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oweninadaydream · 8 months ago

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𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!!

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of-

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor.

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather.

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them.

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second.

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted, of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night was the thought of a deity (and his father) designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away.

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it.

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed.

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek.

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible.

“I wish you were a girl”

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year ago

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if your still doing topgun stuff, may I get some possessive Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Male!Reader? like reader is getting hit on and Jake makes it known that reader is his?

THIS TOOK 3 MONTHS TO WRITE??? AND IT CAME OUT SO SHORT?? I'm so sorry but your request is so good but I got swarmed with work AGHHHH i hope you enjoy this tho regardless, we love a possessive Jake <3

Display of Affection

Tags: Jake Seresin x Male!reader, Hangman x Male!reader, Hangman, Jake Seresin, The Dagger Squad, male!reader, Penny Benjamin, Possessive behavior, established relationship, smug!boyfriend Jake, alcohol, kissing, slight dirty talk, pushing away a creep, Jake Seresin to the rescue! Note: Reader’s callsign here is ’Robin’

When an enjoyable night at the Hard Deck turns sour when a creep decides to waltz his way to you, Jake Seresin comes to the rescue!

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reblogs and comments appreciated <3

A slow Friday night at the Hard Deck. The team was lounging around the pool table, bantering with one another, a drink in hand and the slightly warm atmosphere from the tipsiness the booze has granted them. You and the others arrived around 8, right after an important meeting with Mav before he excused himself for the night and went home with Iceman, wishing you all to enjoy your weekend. So, naturally, you all poured into the Hard Deck and continued to bother Penny with horrible jokes while she rolled her eyes.

Somehow, you all seemed to stay even after rush hour finished, and only your team and a couple of other patrons were milling about. You lean to your left, resting your head on Jake's shoulder as he crosses his arms and says something about baseball to Mickey. The blonde smirks as he reaches a hand around your hip and pulls just slightly closer. You smile, taking another sip from your cup, letting the alcohol warm you.

You squint when your sip ends short and realize your depleted drink before your eyes finding Jake’s beer bottle almost empty. Moving from your boyfriend's hand, you reach over to take his bottle and your cup with you, Jake raises a brow before you stroll away. “I’ll get us more,”

He smiles, before promptly returning to his conversation. You grin, before reaching the bar where Penny is drying a glass and setting your cup and bottle on the counter. “Another bottle for Jake and a refill for me,”

“You got it, Robin,” She nods, before taking both of them and going to do her work. You lean over the bar, forearms resting your weight as your eyes roam about the abundance of bottles and decorations strewn about the Hard Deck. A familiar tune passes through you as you begin to hum, waiting for your drink, before the hair on your neck rises and you snap to your right, spotting a man eyeing you, a smirk on his lips, before he decides to make his way towards you. He’s supporting a worn-down flannel with ripped jeans, a futile attempt on trying to style himself. A civilian in their mid-forties-ish, unkept stubble is as clear as the man's drunkenness.

‘Oh great,’ You roll your eyes, huffing slightly before you stand straight, arms crossed, the annoyance already creeping up your spine. And to no one's surprise, the guy stops beside you, clearly already too drunk for his own dignity, a lopsided smirk while he drops his cup on the bar. By no means are you of a smaller stature than your peers, in fact; Jake is only a couple inches above you and if you were wearing shoes with a bit more on its heels, you'd be the same height as your boyfriend, the same build too. The same predicament currently with the man, only a bit taller than you, but that only seems to fuel him on as he tries to straighten himself, puffing out his chest.

“Hey there,” A sultry undertone in the man's voice has you swallowing a bile, so you reply to his words with a tight smile.

“Evening, sir,” You promptly nod, navigating into a more polite route. He sways in your direction, making you lean back to avoid the man, trying to give this person's intoxicated brain a fucking hint. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, actually you can,” that irksome smirk is back. Your smile tightens. His arm almost brushes yours. “Can you help me to your number-”

“Is there a problem here?” You jump slightly when you feel a familiar arm loop around your middle, pulling you to the right, before you glance and spot Jake’s dangerous grin aimed at the man.

The creep halts slightly before he sneers. “This your man?”

“Yeah, and what of it?” You bite, finding your courage beside Jake’s presence. The man scoffs, disgust written on his face, before he mutters under his breath.

“Fucking sissies…”

Your simmering anger accelerates into a boil, your eyes growing wide with a retort at the end of your tongue before Jake’s hand cups your jaw, cutting you off from shouting at the man and pressing his lips against yours. You let out a small confused noise before Jake starts to prod between your lips, asking for entrance, at which slides in and tastes your tongue. Between your boyfriend's solid hold and the arm around your hips, dizziness begins to envelop you, intoxicated by Jake’s sudden movements.

The kiss ends with Jake softly pulling back, before nudging your head to rest against his chest. “Don't be a hypocrite, would you? Last time I checked you were hitting on a man as well,”

You could practically feel Jake’s burning smirk. You can't help but stand in shock, face as warm as it has been this whole night, and shifting slightly to bury your face deeper into Jake’s embrace. Your boyfriend chuckles lightly, before turning back to the man. “But this one is taken, so why don't you kindly fuck off?”

The man choked on his words, before slamming a couple of bills onto the bar and storming out of the bar. The sound of the door shifting relieves your tension, slowly raising your head. Your eyes meet your boyfriend, a warm smile on his lips. He raises a hand and pushes a couple of stray fringes, arranging them back properly into your hairstyle.

“Thank you, Jake. That guy is way over his head. You did all of us a favor,” Penny’s voice snaps you out and you move slightly apart from Jake, though you already miss his warmth. Jake laughs and shakes his head.

“All in a day's work, Penny,” He winks, quickly snatching your refill and his beer, before turning to walk back to the squad table. You nod a thanks towards Penny before catching up to Jake, bumping his side. He moves his arms, exaggerating as if he was going to drop the beverages.

“Whoah! Careful princey,” He chuckles, swaying slightly.

You roll your eyes fondly. “I had him, y’know,”

“Oh I know baby,” You snap to his face, eyes sharp, which makes Jake let out another surprised laugh. “I mean it! I do! I don't doubt that you’d probably sock that guy in the face,”

“But we’re not trying to get kicked out by our dear Penny, right?” He raises an expectant brow, which makes you huff, a small smile tugging at the edge of your lips. The two of you slide back into your previous seats, discreetly shuffling to press against your boyfriend. You knew he simply smiled, wrapping an arm around your middle. What you didn't expect was his breath fanning against your neck as he leaned in.

“Besides, I don't get many chances to show others you're mine.”

Your face heats. Scrambling to push Jake’s mouth away from getting any closer. The room suddenly grew hotter, a steady stream of arousal moving through your body. “Jake…”

Jake laughs, patting your shoulder lightly. There's a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, most likely from the liquor. “I know, Robin! I know!”

His laugh cuts short, before that devilish smirk is back on your boyfriend's enticing lips. “Later, then…”

Requests are open! (slow res)

#jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x male reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x m!reader #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman x you #hangman x male!reader #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfic #male reader #x male reader #male reader fanfic #amab reader

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mayoonn · 7 months ago

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It's official! Presenting, Alonzo Mavericks, the cowboy from the last fic ♡

"Aren't you sugar? So sweet to bring me dinner.. Thanks.."

A cowboy, rumor has it that he's one of the fearless guys as they are but is he really that scary? He's so shy around you that you thought otherwise about him, he's one lucky soul to have ya! He had heard plenty about you so he is screaming and squealing inside even when he's "cool" from the outside (so mysterious! Σ(･o･; !! )

Hehe so sweet, isn't he (*´˘`*)♡♥︎

Thank you, dear @f0th3rr !! ♥︎

#first oc #alonzo Mavericks #cowboy #cowboy x male reader #he's so sweet #so silly #for my dears

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jaidens · 1 year ago

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The sand from your hair is blowin' in my eyes Blame it on the beach, grown men don't cry

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, anxiety, death, drinking | angst with comfort!

a/n [s] : requests are open!

Bradley sits on the beach, but he feels a million miles away from everything.

You sit next to him as you tell him about work recently and how your coworker did something. Admittedly, he wasn't listening like he usually did, but he stares at the breaking waves and the wind that slips through his cloth Old Navy t-shirt and the shorts he brought to swim in.

Bradley grew up without a father figure after he was five years old. He only had the distinct memories of Goose, his Uncle Maverick, and his mother. He craved the feeling of being able to hug his dad one last time, not just staring at the picture of his Little League team and his father's dumb mustache and Ray-Ban Caravans that sit on his nose.

Bradley sits next to him with a dumb, blond bowl cut and a huge smile as he sits with Goose in his arms. He craves that feeling of being a kid, without worry. He's beside himself as the tears blur the sunset and ocean out of his view, striking like a broken mirror.

“Bradley..” A quiet voice is let through to his ears, as he covers his face with his hands and curls in on himself. “Hey, hey what's wrong?” He can't pull himself to look at you, the person he truly loves as you let your hand touch his arm softly.

Bradley found love, and was able to tell his mother as she laid sick that he was happy. After his father's death, he couldn't live for himself to love. Until Carole had slapped some sense into her son, telling him to find love and that everything will start to make sense. He heard all the stories growing up about Goose's romantic gestures of singing Great Balls of Fire; dedicated to his lovely wife.

When he found you, sitting at the bar sipping on a Sprite and eating one of Penny's famous dinner foods, he knew he was in love. He was freshly out of the Flight Academy, young and dumb when he met you. His mustache barely growing in and still wearing his college baseball shirts.

“Brad, don't ignore me. I know you can hear me.”

One thing about Bradley was his ignoring of problems. His therapist had tried to work him out of the habit, after the dangers of almost getting hurt in the plane after he disregarded Maverick’s commands. It also stood for emotionally ignoring. A year ago, Bradley would have never talked and would've let it out with anger and crying if he was confronted with a problem he wasn't sure how to solve.

“I—I–...” Bradley begins before that frog in his throat appears, biting on his tongue. The tears well up in his eyes, as he takes his hand and wipes them away. The feeling bubbles up inside of him like a Coke shaken with Mentos inside.

“It’s okay, I'm here.” You remind him softly, making sure to hold his hand to help him further in knowing you weren't leaving him alone.

“Hangman— today he mentioned Goose. Told everyone. Maverick didn't even do anything either, I almost fought him too. Then, I remembered Dad. He would've despised me if I used violence.”

“And– and, Maverick keeps bugging me about just fixing my relationship with him. I have no reason too! He pulled my papers!” Bradley stops when he starts practically sobbing, tears running down his face and hands shaking. The anger mixes into his sadness and fear of everything.

He feels embarrassed acting like this in front of you— a grown man crying in someone's arms about another grown man. Bradley feels the weight of his body falling off of him as you rub his back with your hand, and keep on hand raking in the curls of the back of his head.

“Bradley, whatever Hangman said, was unacceptable. Hopefully he apologizes because you do not deserve that at all.” You said. “Maverick loves you Bradley, he basically raised you. What he did as well was horrible, but from what I know about Mav, it was probably meant to happen.”

Bradley takes your words to heart, holding onto your hand now with an actual grip. His lip quivers while he feels your thumb trace over his knuckles. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffles quietly. You smell like salt water and coconut as he lays in the curve of your neck and shoulder. “Thanks.” Bradley says a few minutes later.

Bradley stares at you, the soft smile you have and his big Ford Bronco t-shirt you have on. You look ethereal in the golden and pink hues that collect in the San Diego sky. He feels your connection that wraps your souls together. He's so in love with you, and he thanks whatever big guy is up there, that puts you and him together.

“Why?” You ask him back, looking down at him at where he lays.

“Because. You're always there for me. Always say the right things.” Bradley admits softly. Messing with the towel you have laid on the ground. “It’s why I love you so much.”

His words are anything but foreign to your ears. You smile at him and see him still finding his breath after the cry that he needed to get out of him. “I love you too. I will never stop loving you.”

He feels closer to everything, you as well as himself. Bradley hopes his mother can see him now, holding the person he loves in his arms.

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auroracalisto · 2 years ago

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good enough

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x gn!reader, 8k words tw: MAJOR MISCOMMUNICATION TROPE. divorce, cussing (lots of f bombs at some point), lots of arguing, angst, at one point, reader is said to have had depression before. the reader and bradley are both idiots and neither one of them can properly deal with shit. macho man rooster ends up letting fear gets the best of him and he literally ruins his own life bc of it LMAO, possibly ooc if you squint, possibly questionable actions when it comes to friends, this is dramatic as hell (and i loved every minute of it), self-doubt, angry characters, regret is strong here, rooster fears death and makes it a personality trait™ a/n: based on the song "good enough" by maisie peters. sorry for all of the tws, but i just wanted to try and mark all the boxes. but fr i love bradley. this is purely a play on the song i named, and is just a piece of fiction. a dramatic piece of fiction. like literally take rooster and place him in some angsty romance novel, but cut out the smut. that's this. i am also so sorry for the length of this. i just... started going and i couldn't stop. LMAO

Your heart lurched to your throat as you stood there, his head turned away from your lips—he was avoiding your touch. He didn’t have to say it for you to realize it.

You hesitantly smiled, backing down. Maybe he just had a bad day. It happened pretty often, so taking it personally wouldn’t have benefited you in any way.

He was your favorite person, and you knew you were his. You two were best friends until the end of time. That’s how it had been since even before you two got married—that’s how it would stay.

The television that sat in the living room had long since been turned off. The fan perched in the corner of the room silently hummed along, providing little relief to the California heat that plagued your home.

"Rooster," you began, rubbing the back of your neck. Sweat stuck to the palm of your hand, and you grimaced as you quickly wiped your hand off on the seat of your pants. "How was your day? I know it's been busy—"

"—we need to talk," he said, cutting you off.

He didn't even give you a chance to question things as he walked past you, sitting down on the sofa in your shared condominium. You blinked slowly at your husband, but you gave a small nod. Your feet moved on their own accord as you sat beside him. You placed a hand on his knee, and he only pulled himself away from you.

You swallowed thickly, nerves getting the best of you. Had you done something to offend him recently? Did something happen with Maverick again? You had thought they were doing well—the videos Natasha had sent you were proof enough of that. It warmed your heart to know that he was finally finding himself in this crazy world.

Maybe it was just hot. Yes, that’s it. The heat was getting to him. It had been getting to everyone on base, and at work. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was the same thing here.

"Bradley…?" You said nothing more than his name, watching him with nothing but pure adoration behind your eyes. He meant the world to you. There was nothing he could say or do to change this, even if he was avoiding you.

The man looked at anything but you. His dark brown eyes stared at the black television, and then they moved to the grey carpet just beneath his boot-clad feet.

You must have just vacuumed. He could see the indentations, and that’s what he chose to focus on as he searched for the right words to say. But they never came.

"I want a divorce," he said.

It was so simple. Those four words.

And just like that, your world came crashing around you.

Where was this coming from? Did you do something to upset him?

The words swirled around in your brain, repeating over and over until it hit you like a freight train, knocking the air from your chest. He wants a divorce.

You sat on the edge of the black sofa, eyes fluttering shut as you took in a deep breath. Your hands rested in fists on top of your thighs as you wracked your mind for an explanation. You couldn't find one.

There was nothing that could justify whatever this was.

How long had he been thinking about this?

"Where… where is this coming from?" you asked. You just had to know.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just… please."

"What?" You looked up at him in disbelief. "You—you want to divorce me but you won't even give me a reason?" you asked. Your eyes burned as you held back your tears. You couldn't cry. Not now. If you cried that first tear, then surely, they would never stop.

"I have never asked you for anything, Y/n. Please, just say yes.”

"I don't understand where this is coming from, Bradley," you said, reaching forward to take ahold of his hand. "Please. Talk to me. I want to understand what's going on."

Rooster clenched his jaw, looking down at your hands. Your wedding band glinted in the soft glow of the light overhead. The beautiful piece glared at him as he fought to find the right words to say—but nothing he could say would make this better. Not now.

The words left him without a second thought.

"I don't love you."

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't be telling you the truth right now. He did love you. He married you! Why would he ever ask you to marry him if he didn't love you?

Why would you plan your life together if he didn’t love you?

But even though you could create more and more questions in your mind, trying to placate every emotion coursing through your veins, nothing made sense.

You pulled your hand away as your tears finally began to fall. If he didn't love you, you wouldn't force him to be with you any more than he wanted.

Rooster inwardly grimaced, but he wasn’t about to let you see that. He needed to be strong—he needed to save face and keep on digging in the same grave he had started.

"Just… just tell me when."

"When what?"

"When did this happen? When did you fall out of love? I—I thought you loved me, Bradley. I love you."

He pursed his lips. He seemed to hesitate as he allowed his eyes to meet yours. Rooster's blood rushed to his ears, and his fingers itched to grab onto something. To grab onto you. But he couldn’t. He couldn't even look at you properly when you looked so sad, but he forced himself to do so anyway. You deserved that, at least. You deserved to be looked at when he was ending the relationship you fought so hard to keep.

"I don't know. It just… happened."

He was lying. He had to be lying. There was no way he was being honest—he loves you. He loves you, and this was all just some bad dream. Some bad joke that Hangman put him up to. Maybe Fanboy was in on it, too. Surely, someone put him up to this. They had money in a bowl somewhere, waiting for your reaction so they would know who won. He’d whip out his phone soon and text them the result.

But the way he looked at you… you knew he was telling you the truth. He wanted a divorce. This was happening, whether you wanted it to or not. There was no cruel bet, no ulterior motive.

This was happening.

Every moment of the past three years pierced your brain—Bradley asking you out in the middle of the Hard Deck. Meeting his friends. Picking out your wedding rings. Becoming Y/n Bradshaw. The kisses you shared. The whispered conversations, the happy smiles, the—

He was your life. He is your life. You love him more than life itself.

But he loved you.

Loved. Past-tense.

He did love you. Something changed. What had changed?

You abruptly stood up, roughly wiping your tears away. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be near him right now. Your heart was far too heavy, weighed down by the immense burden of his confession.

"Alright," you said. "I… I won't force you to stay with me. I would never do that to you, Bradley. I would… I would never, ever want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You held back a sob, fists balled at your sides. “We can get a divorce."

Relief spread across his face. He couldn't smile, though. This ended up being a lot harder than he expected it to be.

"Thank you," he said. He stood up, towering over you like usual. "I appreciate it."

You gave a curt nod, averting your gaze. Your tongue poked out, nervously wetting your lips as you cleared your throat. He appreciated it.

Were you just a joke to him?

"I will… I will make arrangements. I will leave by next week."

"What? You don't have to do that. There's no rush—"

"—I'll leave by next week," you cut him off, no longer looking at him.

What was he doing? You didn’t need this. You didn’t need him. As you took a step forward, the tears began to fall. Your husband forced himself to stay put as you rushed off to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

You found little comfort in the blankets that now surrounded you, tears wetting the pillow on which you rested your head night after night. You found little comfort in the place you spent with your husband, time after time, lamenting how much you loved each other. Planning the future of your life—of your family. Of your relationship that should have only grown in love.

The memories of this bed burned in the back of your mind. You could hardly breathe as the sobs plowed through your body.

This wasn’t fair.

This couldn’t be real.

Rooster slowly sat back down, burying his face in his hands. His elbows dug into his thighs, a choked sob catching in the back of his throat. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to say that to you. It was far from the truth. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

This was for the best.

This would keep you safe.

As the sun peered through the grey curtains, setting just beyond the horizon, Rooster stood up. He wiped his tears away, instantly hardening. He had done this time and time again. He would hide, folding back into himself like a metal chair—he’d be there for people when he was needed, but he would be just out of the way until then. He wouldn’t bother you any longer than he needed to.

This was for the best—you wouldn’t have to live your life wondering what could have been.

If he died, that was that. You would move on, and he could rest peacefully in the afterlife.

His father hadn’t ever given his mother a chance to do something like that. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake.

Three years had passed.

Three, long and grueling years had inched by, taking your misery along with you. The New Year would pass over and over, and the only thing you would write on your resolution list was: Move on.

But you never could. That list ended up in the garbage only weeks after drafting it up.

How could you when the love of your life left as he did? How could you when you knew he was the only thing that kept you going, even if you were hundreds of miles away?

They would never say it out loud, but your friends never quite said anything about why he divorced you—why he fell out of love. But why would he tell them something like that? Rooster generally kept to himself. It wasn't something that he would have been very honest about, to begin with.

You knew they knew something more, but they never said anything. You never expected them to, either. They were your friends as much as they were his, and they had been his friend for far longer. You couldn't blame them. Whatever they knew—that was his business. But you kept silent, allowing yourself to wallow in self-pity for more than you should have.

But just like you couldn't blame them for keeping his secrets… who could blame you?

You had your own life before Rooster, yes, you did. You didn’t depend on him. You were independent, and you had your own interests and everything. You didn’t need him. But with his confession, it was as if everything you had ever known had been tossed out of the window of a speeding car in an instant, shattering against the run-down pavement. Pieces flew everywhere—you'd never be able to find them again, let alone put them back together.

You'd never have enough glue for something like that.

You would never be able to repair the gaping hole that was in your heart.

And you knew it was silly. You shouldn’t have ever let yourself trust someone so completely. But you never thought something like that would happen. Rooster was so easy to love.

He was such a happy person—he exuded confidence. He was the epitome of an amazing human being. And yet, he still fell out of love with you.

You never believed someone could just fall out of love so easily.

So, instead of remaining in the very place you felt like you were sinking in, you did what you thought was best. You packed your things and moved to Virginia. At least there, you'd be far enough away that he'd never find you. The mileage did little to comfort you, but it was something.

At least here, you felt like you could breathe.

Changing from the west coast to the east coast was drastic—but you adapted. You had to. You couldn't continue living in the very place that was threatening you at every given minute. You couldn’t continue on in a place where at every corner, something reminded you of him. It was driving you into a familiar depression—one that you had known before Rooster, and one that you would now know after Rooster.

When you left, Phoenix was devastated. Other than Bob, you were her closest friend. She never stopped talking to you—she never stopped being friends with you, even when you moved across the country. When Phoenix asked you to come in to visit, you hesitated. But then she promised you that Rooster wouldn't be there. That he would be visiting some family he had up north—his girlfriend's family. He would be using this free time to get to know them better.

You wouldn't say you were happy for him. Hell, that was far from the truth. Despite the fact you no longer wore your ring on your finger, it was always on a chain around your neck. Your heart still beats for him, no matter how many times you had tried to move on. And you did it all. You tried everything that Google said to do. One night stands, going out with strangers, having people set you up, hell, you even tried therapy. But it never worked.

Why would it? Rooster was the love of your life. He was the one you had seen yourself dying with—he was the one you wanted to grow old with. And he didn't want that in you. He didn't see the same things.

He didn’t see your relationship as a rising sun just beyond the mountain tops. He was already there with the setting sun, disappearing beyond the horizon. He had been there, at the end of your relationship, far before you even had a chance to find the middle. He had made peace with the end. You couldn’t even find peace in the beginning.

After much pestering and a FaceTime call from both Phoenix and Bob, you were convinced to join them back in California for a week. But your only condition was that Phoenix would be paying half for your plane ticket. She agreed in a heartbeat.

So that's why you stood here now, in front of the old dormitory in which you used to visit your friends in. You had already been to the hotel you'd be staying at, and you took a taxi to the base.

The grey building towered over you, making you feel far smaller than you actually were. Memories sat behind those walls, waiting for you to relive them, even if you didn’t want to.

It only took one text message to Natasha before she came barreling down the sidewalk, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Bob was not far behind, and Hangman was taking his sweet ole time. You didn't know he'd be around, but you felt better knowing he was—you had been close before Rooster sent in the papers. He helped you pack and get your things to Virginia.

You hugged Phoenix tightly, smiling up at her.

"It's been too long!" she nearly shouted, excitement running through her body. As she pulled away, Bob pulled you into a hug. He greeted you as he had so many times, with a hug and a simple ‘hello.’

Last but not least, Hangman sent you a smile. He pulled you into a hug, despite the fact he used to be one of the last people you would expect it from. You melted into the hug, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"It's… it's good to be back. I'm glad to see you guys."

"Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy are already at the bar. Said they'd just meet us there. You ready?" Phoenix grinned.

You were as ready as you would ever be. You gave a small nod to your friend, and before you knew it, you were on your way to the very place you met your ex-husband. The Hard Deck.

It was suffocating, standing in that corner all alone. Your friends played pool, and you watched as the different colored balls sunk into the pockets that lined the edge. Hangman stood off to the side, beating some stranger in darts.

Rooster had always been good at that.

Lost in your mind like you had been so many times before, the sound of a glass falling at the bar made you jump.

And then you saw him. Your own glass slipped through your fingertips, crashing onto the floor. Shards littered the wood floor. Phoenix yelped your name in surprise, coming to your side immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on your arm to try and comfort you. You continued to stare, and she eventually looked in the direction of your gaze. Her eyes widened in surprise, lips parting as she tried to find something to say.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near you.

And he was looking right at you.

"Y/n, it's okay, he's not—"

You pulled your arm away from Phoenix, taking a couple of steps back before you took off running in the direction of the restrooms. It was as good of a hiding spot as anywhere, and you'd be able to collect yourself before going back out there. You couldn’t possibly run past him—he’d stop you. Or at least, try to follow you. Phoenix would make him leave. Surely, she wouldn't just let him stay.

You locked yourself in a stall, sitting down on the toilet seat. You took in a deep, releasing a shaky breath as tears clouded your vision. A hand pressed to your mouth, elbows digging into the meat of your thighs as you tried to keep yourself calm.

This wasn't happening! She promised he wasn't here. Why would she lie?

Maybe she didn't know.

The bright light in the bathroom was far too much.

The dripping water from the sink struck the porcelain—plip, plip, plip.

The noise from the bar was deafening as you sat there, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Loud voices echoed through the building, striking your ears in an instant. But the more you cried, the more your sobs became the only thing you heard.

It had been ages since you cried over him, so why now? Why were you so triggered by just seeing him?

You tried to calm yourself down but to no avail.

You loved him. You love him. You never stopped. You couldn't just stop.

You tried so hard. You spent years trying to forget the man who ripped your heart in two with four simple words.

But the universe had a funny way of working. It seemed to work against you in every way possible, no matter what.

You could never win.

You would never win.

No matter what, you were never good enough.

You hadn't been good enough in school. You weren't good enough at work. And you hadn't been good enough for Rooster, even when you were married. You weren't good enough for him, now, either.

There was a knock at the bathroom door before you heard it creak open. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to keep quiet, choked sobs caught in your chest.

Worn shoes popped up underneath the stall door you found refuge in. Those same damn shoes you bought him once for Christmas, four years ago. He had been so excited—they were almost the exact same pair his mother had bought him one year for his birthday. His father's favorite brand—his favorite style of shoe.

God, you searched everywhere for those damn shoes.

And he kept them.

Silence enveloped the bathroom, save for your stifled sobs. You rested your shoulder against the old paneled walls, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore him. But he knew you were there. It was far too late, now.

Rooster stood there, fist raised to knock on the stall door. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. What would he even say? What would have been good enough?

Three years had come and gone without you. Three long years in which he felt as if he was drowning, just existing. He would have been better off launching himself into that ocean, the same as his father. His wedding band was stuffed away in some kind of pocket, always near him or on his person in some way. He tried to get over you—one-night stands, blind dates, even going as far as asking Hangman to find him a girl.

It worked, for a while.

He started dating Kristie—a sweet woman who worked as a nurse on base. But she saw right through him. She knew who he was, and what was going on in that head of his.

She wasn't mad—a bit disappointed, yes, but it didn't stop her from breaking up with him and canceling their planned vacation up north together.

She wasn’t you. She would never be you.

And he didn’t think he would ever see you again.

Rooster found himself in the middle of the Hard Deck, never once expecting you to be there. None of the Dagger Squad had said anything about you. He didn't know you were even going to be in town.

He felt like he couldn't breathe when he laid eyes on you.

The yellow lighting cast a soft glow on your skin. You were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but damn, you looked even more beautiful now. Maybe it was just the years that had passed him by.

The walls of his small corner of the world couldn’t fall on him sooner.

The glass that crunched under your shoes became the only thing he heard until he watched as you ran back into the hallway.

In a split second, Hangman was beside him, obviously pissed.

"What the hell, man? Why aren't you with Kristie?"

"She broke it off."

Hangman clenched his jaw. He couldn't believe this was happening, but then again, Rooster had his head far up his ass more often than not. Hangman punched him in the arm, just enough for it to hurt.

"You need to leave," he said, watching as Rooster recoiled in pain.

"What?" Rooster looked at him in surprise. "No."

"Yes!" he exclaimed. Was this idiot really that much of an asshole?

This time, Phoenix spoke up, her arms crossed over her chest. "We promised you wouldn't be here. You're supposed to be up north. You're supposed to be far away from here!"

"You promised?" Rooster stared her down.

"Well, yeah, you asshole! You broke their heart. They didn't even want to come here in the first place. God, I should've just gone to see them instead of dragging them out here," Phoenix groaned, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand.

Rooster hesitantly took a step forward.

"Rooster, get out," Hangman said, voice low.

He shook his head. He needed to talk to you.

"Rooster!"

He broke out into a run, and before Hangman could follow, Phoenix grabbed his arm.

"What the hell?" he stared at her in disbelief.

"Just let it happen," she said.

"Let what happen? Watch Y/n get their heart stepped on all over again?"

"Just… just let it happen."

Phoenix would wait for you to berate her, later. But for now, she could only wish her friends would try to make up. She could only wish that Rooster would gain a pair and grow up. Her heart ached for you as she watched Rooster run back to the bathrooms, knowing that she couldn’t ever take the pain away from you. The only one who could do that was Rooster, himself, and even then, she wasn’t sure if that would happen.

And now, he found himself standing there, the silence deafening in the small space. The light was bright in the enclosure—brighter than he remembered. His hand was still hovering, his arm growing heavy as he debated on knocking.

Should he just leave? Should he do as Hangman said and walk out? But he couldn't just leave. Not now. Not when he knew he made the biggest mistake of his life, telling you all that bullshit.

You used your sleeves to wipe your tears away as you shakily got to your feet. Your fingers struggled to even unlock the stall door, but when you did, you swung it open. Rooster had to back up just to avoid being hit with the metal.

The two of you just stood there, bright light casting shadows onto the old tile floor. Not a word was said as Rooster stared at you.

You were exactly as he remembered, if not better. You had changed your hair since the last time he saw you. He kept the mustache, and his hair was still cut the same. You kept the same style and the same makeup (or lack thereof).

You still looked at him the same… even if it quickly changed into one of anger.

You were still so beautiful.

His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to talk to you, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to you. Nothing he could say would make things better.

He was such an idiot.

You stepped forward, walking to the stark white sink. You grabbed a few paper towels and wet them before carefully wiping the remnants of your tears. You stared at your reflection in the rounded mirror, your lip caught between your teeth as you hiccuped.

"Y/n?" Rooster tentatively began. He raised a hand to touch your shoulder.

You immediately moved away from his touch, glaring in his direction.

His fist clenched beside him as he watched you.

You tossed the paper towels in the trash and pushed past him, quickly leaving the bathroom.

"Y/n," he repeated.

As you walked, he followed.

Your friends stood in their respective corner, knowing they should intervene. Yet they stayed, hoping that somehow, Rooster would fix his fuck up. They couldn’t keep watching the two of you fight some imaginary battle—they couldn’t watch the two of you wish your life away for something that was quite literally at the tips of your fingers.

Phoenix wasn't too sure if he'd be able to fix this. Hangman honestly wanted to hang a man.

You shoved the doors open, walking into the cool California night. It wasn’t like the cold in Virginia. Virginia’s winters were unforgiving—the snow that would fall would chill you to your very core. Virginia winters would put southern California to shame in an instant. At this very moment, you wished you were there, standing in the chilling wind, begging for some kind of relief—at least then, your body would become numb even if your mind was still running a mile a minute.

Nothing could have prepared you for what had transpired. Nothing could have prepared you for seeing the man you fought so hard to forget.

With no car, you continued walking. You'd call a taxi at some point. Right now, you just needed to breathe.

But you had yet to realize Rooster was still following you.

The man grabbed ahold of your wrist, making you stop in the middle of the damn parking lot. Cars and trucks alike littered the parking spots. A few people walked past you as they went into the bar, ignoring the tension that stood in the middle of it all.

You whipped around, jerking your arm away from him with wide eyes. "What's your fucking problem?!"

Rooster paused, body going rigid as he waited for you to continue.

You had never yelled at him, even when he asked for a divorce.

"Why the fuck are you even here? You're not supposed to be here! You have a fucking girlfriend. Get away from me. I don't ever want to see you again."

Tears sprung to your eyes once more. You tilted your head back, wishing they would just stop. The stars stared down at you, mocking you where you stood. The sky was so close, and yet so far away.

God, would this man ever make you stop crying?

"Y/n—"

"—just go away! I don't want you here!"

"Please," he began, "I need to talk to you. I need to apologize."

"Apologize?! Oh, that's rich! Just leave me alone. You did enough damage when you asked for a divorce. Just leave me alone."

"Y/n, please," he continued. "You… please just hear me out."

"I heard you out once, and it was the worst fucking time of my life," you said. "I'm not listening to you ever again."

You turned back around, set on leaving—this time a bit faster. But his words grounded you in your spot, heart leaping to your throat once more.

"It was a mistake!"

You stared at the gravel that crunched underneath your feet. You could feel your pulse rushing through your body, fast and unsteady.

Nothing could have prepared you for that.

"It was a mistake, Y/n," he said, his voice far quieter this time. "I never should have asked for a divorce. I never should have said anything. I should—I should have just—"

"—what, toughed it out? Let me realize you stopped loving me when you started cheating on me or some shit?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"What? No. No, Y/n… I… I never should have said anything. I never stopped loving you."

What?

You couldn't breathe—your lungs constricted in your chest, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Your body burned as you looked up at the night sky, stars littering the vast ocean of darkness. They still mocked you, but this time, dark clouds rolled in. Perhaps the sky knew just how you felt. The moon cast a soft glow on everything in its path.

Tears blurred your vision once more.

He never stopped loving you.

You let out a sob, turning to face him.

"What?"

"I never stopped loving you," Rooster lamented. "I… still love you."

"Then… then… why?"

"I couldn't do it to you."

"What? Do what?"

"I couldn't die! I couldn't die and leave you a widow. I couldn't end up with the same fate my dad had, leaving you just the same as my mom," he said.

"Well you're not fucking dead, are you?!"

Rooster paused, lips parting to speak.

"You're not dead. You're standing right in front of me, telling me that the reason you fucking divorced me was because you didn't want me to be a widow?! I would have been less upset if you had fucking died!" You took in a deep breath, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You did not have to do that. You did not have to make me miserable. You did not have to make me feel like the one person who loved me was an entire lie!”

Rooster winced. Your words pierced his soul like a sharp bullet, ricocheting off the crevices of his very soul.

"Fuck off, Bradley Bradshaw," you said, fists clenched at your sides. "I never want to see you again."

"But Y/n—"

"—no! No, I'm over you, you bastard! I don't love you anymore. I haven't in years. You're still in love with me? That's great. Fucking deal with it. You deserve to feel the pain of not knowing. You deserve to lose yourself in everything you thought was yours.”

Bradley Bradshaw had never felt as if he wasn't good enough. When he was faced with adversity, he worked harder. When he felt bad about something, he did more to try and overcome that. He had never felt as if anything he did wasn't good enough. But in this very moment, he stood there, wondering how in the world he could have fucked up so badly.

He wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough, for you. That much was evident as he watched you once again walk away from him, disappearing into the night.

His eyes fluttered shut and he held back his tears as he stood there, waiting for lightning to strike him where he stood. Surely, it'd be better than having to go back into the Hard Deck after a screaming match like that.

He deserved it.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. He opened his eyes, head darting in the person's direction. Hangman watched him for a moment before he patted his back.

"You fucked up, man," he began, averting his gaze. "Now you've gotta fix it."

"But how?"

"For fucks sake, Rooster," he groaned. He ran a hand through his perfect hair, musing it from the stress of his friend. He couldn't believe he'd ever thought Rooster might actually be a pretty smart guy. This dude was dumber than a box of rocks, and this just proved it.

"They still love you, you know," Bob said, arms crossed over his chest. "We heard what they said, but they're just hurt. You really did a number on them."

He glanced over his shoulder. The Dagger Squad stood there, all watching him as he stood there, in the middle of the parking lot.

This… was all his fault.

Those four simple words should have never left his mouth. He should have been spending the last three years with you, not trying to forget you. Because if he were to have died in that time, it would have at least been with you and not with the overwhelming ghost of you haunting his every waking move. He could have at least left you behind knowing you were loved instead of wondering if he ever truly loved you at all.

Time passed slowly in the month it took you to finally calm down from the emotional rollercoaster Rooster had you on. You were back in your apartment, the east coast calling your name (even though the west coast screamed for your return; the sandy beaches and the salty water just weren’t the same, here).

Your heart ached—every romantic thing you saw made you want to cry. It all reminded you of your ex-husband, and now, there was no changing things. In your anger, you had told him you never wanted to see him again—that you didn't love him. You made sure he knew that when you left him standing in the middle of that damned parking lot.

What a lie that was.

But if he could tell lies, why couldn't you? Why couldn't you force him to live with the idea that you didn't love him, just the way he did that to you?

Regret became you.

You wondered if that’s how he felt all this time—regretful.

Did Rooster even have a bone in his body that was capable of feeling anything other than pride?

Maverick would know.

Did he know about all of this? He had been Rooster’s best man at the wedding. Surely, he knew something.

Your arm rested over your eyes, blocking out the sunlight that peaked through your curtains. Saturday mornings never got easier for you. Hell, no morning did. Getting up was a constant chore. You had already gotten ready for the morning, but you slipped right back into bed, not wanting to deal with the idea of being a live, somewhat functioning adult at the moment.

Your phone began to ring, loud and in your ear as you lay in bed, staring at the back of your arm. With a groan, you rolled over and picked it up.

Phoenix was calling you.

You answered after a moment of your fingers hovering over the bright buttons. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone.

"Hello?"

"Y/n? Hey! So, uh, quick thing, and I promise you I didn't know about it until Bagman just said something, but he gave Rooster your address."

Silence enveloped your bedroom as you processed what she had just said.

"What?!" You immediately sat up in your bed, gripping your phone with unforgiving strength. "What the hell!"

"I know," she continued, voice laced with worry—she didn’t know how you were going to take this. "I know, and I'm sorry. But, uh, he said that Rooster is probably gonna show up within the next hour or so. He caught the earliest flight out there."

"Why?"

"Why?" Natasha echoed. "Y/n, why do you think?"

You fell silent. You stared down at the blankets that pooled at your feet.

Day after day, you wondered if Rooster would show up, begging you to take him back. But the sun continued to set, day in and day out, and nothing changed. Nothing ever changed.

"Y/n, I know he's an asshole,” Natasha said. “I know he broke your heart. But… Rooster's been through a lot. He might not have realized how bad of an idea it was until he went through with it. He’s… he’s done nothing but regret it ever since.”

"I know he's been through a lot," you said, voice far quieter than it had been. "I know he has. But… but that's no excuse. We were married. I was his partner. He took that away… he took that all away.”

"There's no excuse for him," Phoenix said. "I’m not making one. You’re… you’re my very best friend. But if he shows up and you don't know what to do, you have two options. Turn him away, or… hear him out. Whatever you do, I’m here one hundred percent of the way.”

You swallowed thickly. Without saying anything else, you hung up the phone, tossing it onto your bed. You buried your face in your hands—it seemed to be the only thing you could do recently that would actually allow you to catch your breath.

And then, your doorbell rang.

That was far less than an hour.

The shrill ding of the bell resounded in your brain. You would have to get that changed to something less annoying.

Getting out of your bed and walking down the hallway was the easy part. It was opening the front door that made you want to die as your hand slowly grabbed onto the knob.

You can just turn him away. It'll be okay, you told yourself. He will leave if you want him to.

With much hesitation, you opened the door.

Rooster stood there, worried he had gotten the wrong door and Hangman had given him some shit directions. But as you appeared in the doorway, relief spread across his features. He was dressed in those same shoes you had given him. He wore a pair of jeans, and he wore one of those stupid Hawaiian shirts that he loved so much.

You still had the pink and yellow one you had stolen before you left him in the top left drawer of your dresser. It still smelled like Rooster… but the laundry detergent you had was the same exact one you had used when you were married to him.

Everything you owned reminded you of him.

"Y/n?"

"Bradley."

His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. He nervously wrung his hands together as his eyes looked anywhere but you. This wasn’t that confident, macho man you knew. This wasn’t Rooster.

This was Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh.

His heart was on the line, and he could only hope that the universe would grant him one last wish—let you believe him. Let you understand him.

He would understand if you turned him away. He would leave, and he would never bother you again. But he hoped that you’d accept him for who he is—for everything he has been.

Again.

Even though it took him so long to realize his mistake. Even though he made so many mistakes just to find himself trying to take it all back.

Rooster never thought he was perfect, but hell. The universe really didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, did it?

"Listen, I know you said you didn't want to see me," he began. "But I can't… I can't keep doing this."

You stayed silent.

Bradley was a lot of things. Stupid, funny, a great, flaming ball of firey anxiety. And still, the love of your life, even now.

Nothing would ever stop that from happening, even if he shoved his hand in your chest, pulled out your heart, and crushed it right in front of you.

Even now, after all this time, you knew you loved him.

He took your silence as an invitation to continue.

"I love you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never stopped. I just… fucked up. God, Y/n, I fucked up so bad. I never should have asked you for a divorce. I never should have said any of that shit. I thought I was protecting you. But the only thing I ended up doing was hurting you more, and I never wanted that to happen.

"I love you, so much, Y/n. I never stopped. I… you are the love of my life. But… but even if I loved you, it wouldn't stop life from standing in the way. My dad died. He left my mom all alone. I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't bear the thought of you suffering, all alone, wondering what the hell you could have done to make things different. I couldn't let you have the same fate as my mom."

You stared at him, hands gripping the door.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I… I know I should have."

"So why didn't you?"

"I had already made up my mind…"

And once Bradley Bradshaw made up his mind, that was that. Most of the time, anyway.

Silence enveloped the two of you once more. Birds chirped in the background, cars honking in the backed-up traffic on the interstate not too far from your home. Life was still going on, just like it always would. Life would continue to find a way, even if someone left it behind—even if someone felt as if their world was crashing to an end.

Three years ago, if Bradley Bradshaw had shown up at your door, telling you he had made a mistake, you would have believed him. But watching him as he stood at your door this very moment, you weren't sure. You had every right to slam the door in his face, burning the image of his scared self in the back of your mind. But as you stood here, hands dangling down by your thighs, you knew you couldn't.

Were you stupid for what you were about to do?

Maybe.

But so was Bradley.

"I've started seeing a therapist," Bradley spoke, breaking the silence. "He said it would be good for me to at least… try to tell you why."

"Why you left me?"

He gave a small nod. "Yes. And… he made me realize it never should have happened. It was my fault. It was never yours."

You rubbed your eyes out of frustration, unable to stop yourself from sniffling. A groan escaped you, and he frowned in response.

"Y/n, I… words can't even begin to describe how sorry I am. I can't take back what I said. I can't change the fact that I asked you for a divorce because I was terrified of dying and leaving you alone. But… but I can do this," he said, licking his lips as he watched you.

You tilted your head in confusion, not sure where he was going with this.

Time moved slowly—just as slowly as it had when your world came to a startling halt.

He suddenly held out his hand, locking eyes with you once more. Dark brown eyes peered into yours; those same brown eyes you used to watch until you fell asleep in his arms. Those same brown eyes you stared into when you first said, “I do.” Those same brown eyes you looked into when he asked you for a divorce.

"Hi," the man said, a small smile appearing on his mustache-clad lips. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."

Your eyes widened, your heart leaping to your chest once more, but not because you were scared to face him. But because you couldn't believe this was really happening.

He… was starting over.

You were starting over.

Hesitantly, you took his hand, firmly grasping it before you shook it.

"It's so nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw," you said. Your eyes were still red from your tears, but you began to smile, pushing down the pain and regret of the last three years. It wasn’t worth it. The utter buffoon standing in front of you was worth it. "I'm Y/n Bradshaw," you continued with a grin. "Quite a coincidence, huh?"

Bradley just smiled, tilting his head to the side. You had never changed your name. In fact, you stayed the same, despite the icy shield around your heart. Not that he could blame you.

You were his Y/n. The love of his life—the reason he continued on, and the reason he believed in love, despite the fear that sucked the rational thinking out of him.

Because even when death knocked at his door, he knew you would be there. You would be there, just like his mom was for his dad.

Nothing could change that.

Not the divorce, not his lie that lasted for years. Not the untimely “confession” that left the two of you reeling for each other.

Nothing could change how he felt for you.

And with one instant, you knew your world was mending itself. You'd have problems—that you were sure. You’d have to work on communication; on both sides. But as you moved out of the way for Rooster to come in, you knew it would be worth it.

Love, no matter how much it hurt, was worth it.

Good enough or not.

"Why don't you come in, Mr. Bradshaw? I think we have a lot to catch up on."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, taking ahold of your hand.

"Only if you'll have me."

"Of course, I will."

This was a start. A new start.

A good start.

You were both starting over. And although you wouldn’t ever say it out loud, a part of you was starting to realize that you may have always been good enough—sometimes, fear was stronger than anyone’s resolve. Fear could make even the bravest people pause; it could cause stupid decisions and brash opinions that change everything a person knows. Minds were a powerful tool that could hurt everyone in its path.

You lived it.

You were still living it.

But like any great thing, sometimes starting over is the best way to go. Sometimes, opening your heart back up is the only thing you can do to move on.

Those same brown eyes you fell in love with peered down at yours, and for once in the past three years, you finally felt at peace. You were good enough. You always had been.

And Bradley Bradshaw was a good man. A great man, even. But even great men can fall short. Even great men can make mistakes. It takes an even greater person to face those mistakes head-on, and an equally great person to forgive and continue on loving, even if they never stopped, to begin with.

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marksbear · 2 years ago

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hi I just found your blog and it’s amazing!!! Could I request a hangman from top gun story were he is crushing on mavericks son who works at the bar but maverick goes hard on him because he doesn’t know it’s his son

Hello and welcome to my blog! And thank you for calling it amazing! Thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy the fic!

I'm going to make it headcanons!

HANGMAN X MAVERICKS SON READER

🛩 Him and the gang went to the bar and when he saw you in the distance his mouth immediately fall.

🛩 He watches you from afar making up different scenarios how to get your attention. Phoenix catches him staring at you and she smirks to herself knowing Maverick is gonna give him a hell of a time.

🛩 Jake told coyote to play for him during pool as he leaves the group to go get your attention. He sits right where you're working and gives you his signature Hollywood smirk with a wink. "Hi handsome~"

🛩 "Why the hell is he flirting with Y/n?" Rooster says watching him wink at you. "Whos Y/n" Fanboy asks. "Mavericks son..." Bob answers his question watching you two from afar.

🛩 When Jake spoke to you for the first time you knew who he was. You knew the whole group just didn't make an effort to go up to them and talk. Since this may be the last time he ever talks to you why not play along with the flirting. "Hey there pretty boy."

🛩 Wait your flirting back with him? And you think hes pretty? His heart feels like it's gonna jump out of his chest. He wasn't prepared when you called him pretty or really flirted back. He leans in on the bar ordering a drink.

🛩 "So pretty boy. Why are you here at this lovely bar?" The way you call him a pretty boy makes his heart do back flips. His face becomes a beat red as he stares down at his drink. To fixated on you calling him pretty he doesn't answer your question.

🛩 "Hey pretty boy, I asked you a question." You hook your finger below his chin raising his head up so he can look you in the eyes. "I---uhm to celebrate yeah! Celebrate" His answer was a bit shaking until he got himself together and back to his cocky self.

🛩 From afar it looks like you two are about to kiss. Him looking submissive at you with lovely dovey eyes. While you have a smirk on your face moving your hand to his cheek caressing it while you stare at his lips and eyes.

🛩 Sadly that moment is ruined when Maverick walks in the bar.

🛩 Time feels like its frozen. Rooster and Coyote try to signal Hangman to stop flirting and come here. Bob and Fanboy are sitting down together on a couch mouth wide open after realizing Maverick is here. Phoenix and Payback laughing and clapping knowing this is gonna be good.

🛩 Y/n and Hangman are in their own little world laughing with each other and flirting. Everything is perfect with the little dirty remarks or the longing flirty touches. Y/n writes his number on a napkin and hands it to Jake. "You know... I haven't caught your name yet?" Jake says taking the napkin putting it in his pocket. "Y/n. Nice to meet you Jake. I gotta get back to work, so call me." Y/n gives Jake one last drink on the house and a sweet kiss on the cheek before going in the back room.

🛩 Jake watches Y/n leave with love in his eyes smiling dreamily and holding the cheek you kissed like a teenage girl. He is way to bust thinking how you two will be the greatest couple on this planet. Not even thinking that he never told you his name.

🛩 Jake downs his drink turning around seeing the gang's shocked face and Mavericks pissed one. "Oh lord what did I do." Jake mumbles to himself.

🛩 "Everyone outside.Hangman you stay." Maverick orders everyone. They all give Jake "good luck" smiles and "You fucked up." Looks on their faces not giving Jake any who did what he did.

"Why were you flirting with the bartender?"

"Because I thought he was hot and I went to go shoot my shot. And plus I knew I could get him." Jake answers truthfully with false cockiness because in reality he was a mess when he was talking to you.

"Don't talk about him as if he's just some desperate boy who you needed to save."

"I'm not trying to talk about him like that... I'm just saying I knew he would be perfect for me. I mean cmon me and him are practically made for each other."

"Stop being so cocky. I know he can have a lot better than you."

"Oh yeah? We both know that's a lie. I'm going to be the best thing ever for him."

"Leave him alone. He doesn't need to deal with your antics." Maverick tries to plea getting annoyed from the young adult trying to date his son.

"Says who?"

"His father."

"Well I don't see the guy arguing with me. Who is he?"

"Me. His father is arguing with you because he knows you're gonna get his son in a troubled relationship that's most likely gonna end up in heartbreak."

"His name is Y/n M/n Mitchell. My son."

And that caused Hangman cocky smirk to drop. No fucking way your his son.

THE END?! Unless y'all want a part two!

#hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #x male reader #top gun x male reader #top gun maverick x male reader #male reader #top gun headcanons

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nykie-love-anime · 1 year ago

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Day 25 ~ Reading In Bed

Iceman is sick and he wants his boyfriend to read to him to feel a bit better.

“Come one Ice you have to stay in bed.” You pleaded with your sniffling boyfriend as he stood up to follow you. “But you are so warm. You are taking away all my heat if you are going. So where you go I will follow.” He grumbled out as he sniffled shuffling closer to you. Laying his head on your broad chest he let out a content sigh wrapping his arms around your middle.

“If I get sick I am going to smack you.” You started saying but could not bring yourself to say anything further as you looked down onto his face. Sickly yet adorably cute. “I just wanted to get you medicine. You could have cuddled the blankets for a bit you know that right.” You whispered into his ear but he just shook his head. “No only you. I don’t like the blankets touching me.” He whined out the me for a second too long. “Okay come on mister Ice.” You started pulling him back towards your bedroom. “For such a great pilot you really are a baby when you are sick.” You mumbled and he just whined that he is not a baby causing you to giggle.

Once you are settled into bed again he cuddled into you immediately. “I want you to read me something please.” He pleaded with a tired sigh. “It would make me feel ten times better because you know I love it when you read to me.” He concluded and you just nod. “Sure thing babe.” You looked to your bedside table and picked up the book that you are currently reading. ‘Hopefully he doesn’t mind a good romance novel.’ You though open the book by chapter 4 where you last stopped reading.

As you continued to read you felt Tom’s head get heavy and his eyes started fluttering close trying to fight off the sleep that was taking him over. Reading for about five minutes more you decided it was enough and you moved down the bed to lay down after putting your book back on the table and Tom immediately cuddled further into your chest whispering to himself that this right here is how he is content.

“I love you mister Kazansky.” You muttered kissing his forehead with a tired giggle escaping him “I love you mister Y/L/N.” he whispered and about a minute or two later he is finally out cold. Quietly getting up you went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and his medicine for when he is awake. As you poured water into his cup you felt arms wrapped around your waist. “Now what did I tell you about being out of bed.” You teased and he smiled softly into your neck.

“And what did I tell you about being my personal heater.” He mumbled back and you just laughed. “Well you are never going to get better if you keep getting out of bed mister Kazansky.” “Yeah, yeah whatever come back to bed it is very lonely without you there. And I am freezing my ass off without you there.” He said pulling you towards the bedroom. “Okay fine but you have to take your medicine first so that you can start feeling better.” You said pointing at the glass of water and the cold medicine.

“Fine dad.” He grumbled but thankfully he complied. “Hey that is daddy or sir for you.” You teased the sick man with a smirk and he just laughed but was cut off by a coughing fit. “And that is why you should stay in bed.” You rubbed his back to sooth his coughing. “Come on let’s get back into bed and you can have your personal heater back.” You smiled pulling the blond back to bed.

Day 24 | Masterlist | Day 26

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issdisgrace · 9 months ago

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HEAR ME OUT

#bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x male reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick x male reader #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x male reader

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decadentworld · 11 months ago

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“Show me your safe sign.”

Bradley snaps the fingers of his right hand twice, more easily than he imagined he’d have to try, given the position his arms are currently in. He looks up at you from the floor. His tongue already feels like cotton within his mouth, so he’s glad you’ve both settled on something that won’t require him to speak to stop if he wants to.

Not that he’ll be able to speak much with what’s about to happen anyway.

“Good boy.”

This is a small part of a bigger fic I haven’t started writing yet. I’ll probably revamp these illustrations with a more realistic style when I do. I just needed to get it out of my system lol.

#rooster x male reader #bradley bradshaw x male reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #sub bradley bradshaw #Top Gun #Top Gun: Maverick

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topguncortez · 1 year ago

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Phoenix and Cerberus beach day (with or without his daughter!)

Beach Day | Phoenix & Cerberus

Phoenix & Cerberus Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

synopsis: Cerberus decides to have a day at the beach, just him and his two girls

word count: 600

warnings: mentions of parental death

If you were to ask Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace if she ever saw herself being in a relationship with a man who had a child, she would've probably told you to fuck off. One, she wouldn't have believed you about being with a man, and two, potentially being a step-mother.

But here she was, helping set up a beach umbrella, while Cerberus was putting sunscreen on his daughter, Piper. Phoenix looked over at the two of them, a soft smile on her face. She hadn't realized how much the two of them looked alike until she had moved in with them about six months ago. It was like looking in a mirror when the two sat side-by-side.

"Is Alex gonna be here?" Piper asked, the faintest blush on her face.

"I don't think so kid," Cerberus said, capping the sunscreen and putting it in the swim bag that Phoenix brought, "Think you're just stuck with us."

"That's just fine!" Piper smiled, "Phoenix is cool!" Piper launched herself at Phoenix, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Phoenix chuckled and patted the girl's head, "Some say I'm even cooler than your dad."

"Hey!" Cerberus pointed, "Rude! I'm already out numbered here." Piper rolled her eyes and walked back over to her dad, giving him a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks, babydoll. Now, let's finish setting things up and head to the waves."

"You two go, I got this," Phoenix said.

Cerberus nodded at his girlfriend, before taking his daughter's hand. Phoenix sighed, and sat down on one of the beach chairs that they had brought. She felt content as she watched Cerberus play with Piper in the water, the little girl's laughter filling the air.

Phoenix never knew how much she could love a child that wasn't hers. Sure, she loved her sister Dragon's baby, and the Seresin and Bates-Machado kids had a soft place in her heart. But there was something about Piper that made Phoenix feel. . . different. She couldn't quite describe it.

Phoenix had decided some time ago, that she didn't want children. For her, it just not something she had dreamed of having. Phoenix wanted to live her life and have a career as an aviator as long as she could. She knew that it was possible to be a mother and a pilot, she was watching Dragon doing it right now.

But now, for some reason as Phoenix had learned to love and care for Piper, she felt some sort of motherly instinct. She felt the need to protect and provide for the little girl as if she was her own. Phoenix was well aware that she would never ever replace Piper's mom. She made sure that Piper's mom was respected in the house, putting up several pictures of her, Piper and Cerberus. She let Piper know that she was okay with talking about the loss of her mother, it was a sad similarity they both shared.

Cerberus and Phoenix had talked several times about what their lives would look like moving forward. Phoenix didn't know, but Cerberus already had a ring picked out and hiding at her sister's house. He couldn't even imagine a day where he didn't have Phoenix by his side. She was perfect, in every way.

"Phoenix!" A voice called out to her, snapping her from her thoughts. Cerberus had Piper on his shoulders, both of them having identical wide smiles on their faces.

"Come on join us!" Piper smiled.

"Alright!" Phoenix smiled, pushing up from the chair and jogging towards her family.

taglist:

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year ago

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bob Floyd x male reader who is quiet and intimidating, only to silently become a guard dog to him

idk I haven't slept, hope this makes sense

OOOOOH THIS TURNED OUT SO NICE TBH I love grumpy x sunshine sm :(( it's such a cute trope uGHHH and writing this was such a trip lmao I loved how it turned out tbh thanks so much for the idea!! so I hope you all do too!

Note: Reader is regarded as Panther for his callsign. The fic is in a 3rd POV.

Stone-Cold

Tags: Robert Floyd/Male Reader, Bob x Male-aviator!Reader, sunshine x grumpy!!, Robert Floyd, Natasha Trace, Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin, Halo, Fritz, Yale, Rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick, Iceman, Penny, Meet-cute, First meeting, Fluff, Implied smut, kissing, making out, getting together, separation, slight angst, time skips, NOT TOO MUCH THO!, No use of Y/N, slight OOC, Background Icemav, Background Sereshaw, Background relationships, i don't know shit about fighter pilots, only did small research lmao

Bob met Panther, a dark-eyed individual who never even glanced in his direction. But that soon changes when he finally gains his friendship and the two hit it off, flying through a healthy relationship, a falling out, and a reunion.

—

The first time Bob met Panther was in basics. Panther stood a foot taller than him, with dark eyes that were only focused on the board whenever they were in class. Due to his height, Panther was situated in the back, just two rows behind where Bob usually sits. A suffocating dark air seems to always follow the man, making his classmates, including Bob, avoid him most of the time. It doesn't help that the man barely talks, it's a miracle they even knew his Callsign.

They say he got it after someone from his old crew saw him in the middle of the night, outside of the building, with glowing golden eyes. Paired with his big build, Bob hopes the Callsign story is nothing but a rumor of some drunken crew that stumbled his way and saw Panther that night.

It was a usual Wednesday. His class has departed to spend their lunchtime while Bob makes his way to the cafeteria, reviewing the lesson plan inside his head. While he was too engrossed in his little ramblings, he hadn't realized he bumped into someone waiting in the line in front of him. Bob immediately stops and rubs his nose which took the burn of the bump.

“Sorry!” He quickly musters, realizing he had to incline his head in order to meet the person's eyes, and much to his surprise, it was Panther. The man raised a brow and fixed Bob with a stare that made the shorter pilot gulp. Suddenly, Panther shrugs and turns back around, as if to brush off an insignificant bug. Now that is a treatment Bob is familiar with, so he’s back to looking down into his binder while waiting for his turn.

After obtaining his lunch, he looks around for his usual table, on the far end of the large room. He smiles to himself as he spots it vacant and makes his way to his place. As he sets his tray down, a similar noise follows. Bob raises his head to find Panther, he was the one placing his tray in front of Bob. His eyes widen, panic settling in before he hears the tall man in front of him speak. “Is… this seat taken?”

To hear Panther's voice was a rarity, the man only spoke in class if their instructor specifically asked him to answer. He sounded… Timid—Far from what Bob’s expectation was. The brunette stumbles on his words, finding his voice to answer the man in front of him.

“N-no, go ahead,” Bob manages a welcoming smile, well, he hopes it was welcoming. Panther nods, and takes his seat and so does Bob. He puts aside his binders and readjusts his glasses, a nervous habit. He finds himself looking at his tray of food, then back to his books, then to the blank table. Bob doesn't know what to do with his hands. Awkwardness surrounds both of them.

“I see you took notes of today's class,” Panther was the one who broke it.

Bob perks, before he sheepishly nods. “Yeah its, uh- good for review,”

“Do you think… You can explain some stuff to me? I didn't really catch today's lesson…” The taller man looks to his side, then scratches the back of his neck. Behind his glasses, Bob’s eyes lit up, before he smiled and nodded, his hands already on their way to open one of his many binders.

That was the start of Bob's and Panther's friendship. He admits, he never had the best experience with his peers. Most of the time he’s left alone or is only noticed whenever they have a question, no one ever truly became close with Bob. No one’s ever picked on him, that would be childish, but then again—If you pile some humans filled with testosterone in one shower room, there's bound to be some name-calling or stink eyes. Bob has had his fair share of it, never taken it to heart, even if some days it hurts more than it looks.

But ever since Panther spends his lunch with Bob, the other guys have chosen to leave him alone, even in the shower rooms. No one ever laughed behind his back again, those whispers whenever he was in class or passing by has also disappeared. Panther has spent the better half of his day sticking to Bob, being by his side, going where Bob is going, and only separates when they have different schedules or if he was waiting for his own turn in the rec room while Bob is in training.

It’s been a couple of months since their initial meeting now. Bob and Panther are well into their flight training program, and are currently leading in their class grade. Two of the best in their class, with Bob having a couple of scores above Panther.

The clock barely touched 8 PM. Panther was lounging about in Bob’s room, with his roommate being somewhere in the city, no doubt getting drunk between girls, Panther was free to roam in his best friend's room. Bob is currently on his bed, reading something from a textbook while Panther was doing nothing in particular on the floor, his long limbs strewn about. The only thing illuminating the room is the stripes of moonlight and the dim light of Bob's bedside lamp.

“Hey Bob,” Panther calls from the floor. Bob hums. “Ever thought of getting into Top Gun?”

Bob tilts his head slightly. He closes the textbook, putting his glasses aside before leaning on the edge of his mattress. “Maybe. Why?”

“Nah, just thought if you wanted to, you could,” Panther grins up to a confused Bob.

“What's that supposed to mean?” The brunette smiles, strands of his fringe falling into his eyes.

“You’re smart. Smarter than all of us in class, not to mention you’re a half-decent pilot,” Bob chuckles at that, now fully leaning down to meet his friend's eyes. Panther smiles up at him. “I think you’d make it into Top Gun.”

While Bob doesn't have his glasses on, Panther's smile is just as warm, feeling it seeping into his skin. “You smile more around me,”

Panther’s smile faltered slightly, before he suddenly sat up, supported by his arms behind him, and then they were inches apart. Bob’s eyes widen, finding how close his friend is sitting, he can practically breathe him in. The brunette blinks, swallowing a lump. “That day, the first time we talked, why did you choose to sit with me?”

Panther’s lips are parted slightly. “I just… I knew you weren't as shit as the others,”

Bob huffs a laugh and Panther mimics it. “Really?”

“Yeah, plus…” Panther leans closer, his voice drops into a whisper. “You were the only one worth talking to,”

It happened so slowly. Bob closes his eyes before he feels the man's lips on his, trusting himself wholly to Panther. He feels himself being pushed, his hands scrambling to wrap around Panther's shoulders before he pushes Bob onto the bed and he climbs in himself, lips never parting. He presses and presses, until Bob's lips part and he feels Panther's tongue slips in, which makes Bob groan between their breath and pants. Bob finds himself laid beneath Panther, feeling his friend's hair between his fingers, the solid weight on top of him calms his pestering anxiety. He’s shared a kiss or two, and dated some girls and one boy, but has never gone as far as making out. But despite it all, Panther's mere existence on top of him, caging him in, soothes his worries, and is willing to follow Panther into the long night.

He’s lucky his roommate came back late because he had to kiss Panther goodbye as he sneaked back into his room, not before he heard the man groan from outside his doors; something about his roommate asking questions about last night, which made Bob laugh.

Before Panther left, they had woken up in each other's arms, Bob had the best sleep he’s had in years. Panther was playing with Bob’s curly morning hair, before the more petite man groans and reaches numbly for his glasses, at which Panther laughs and hands it to him. Once he situated his glasses, he finds himself looking at the man on top of him, a soft smile between those addicted lips. “Morning,” He said.

“Mornin’” Bob drawls, turning to face Panther. He smiles, before pressing a kiss to Bob's temple, which Bob closes his eyes upon feeling it. Instead of pulling back, Panther stays there.

“I hope this isn't a one-time thing,” He mumbles into Bob's curls. The brunette blinks, before he pulls back to meet Panther's eyes.

“It isn't.” So serious, so sure of his words. Bob was famous for his hesitation, for his timidness in front of his peers, but this. This, he’s confident about.

Pather’s blank stare breaks into a smile, before he dives back in and smothers Bob with kisses, pulling him right back into his arms, and they spend the rest of the dawn just like that.

—

Bob graduated on top of his class. Pather follows just behind him, but despite it, they’re both worthy of their wings of gold.

After their graduation ceremony, after the pictures and congratulations from instructors and family members, and awkwardly meeting Bob’s cheerful parents and myriads of siblings, after meeting Panther's own family, the two finally manage to sneak away. Panther pulls Bob into the back of his Land Rover, the shorter male giggling as his boyfriend smothers him in kisses.

“I’m so proud of you,” Panther smiles, pulling back from his grinning boyfriend. Bob's glasses are askew, a wide smile on his lips. He can feel himself blushing, the steady heat spreading through his cheeks, which makes Panther lean back in to kiss him again.

They both ended up in the back seat of Panthers Rover, entwined with each other, breathing in lungfuls, a smile on both of their lips. Bob leans to bury himself deeper into Panther's chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingertips. Panther hums, his arm pulling Bob closer. His other hand examines the small wing, it reflects the night's shine.

“What now?” Panther sighs, pocketing the golden wings then turns to his boyfriend. Bob's brown eyes shine with the moonlight.

“I don't know,” The brunette looks out of the car’s window. “Get assigned a squadron,”

It would be the next step in their career. Panther has learned that Bob would be aiming to get into Top Gun, and he would be following Bob if he could, always one step behind him.

Panther turns to face Bob, the aviator picking at his finger. He slowly entwines his fingers with Bob’s, making him glance up to meet Panther's eyes. The taller male softly smiles, moving a stray hair from Bob's eyes. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow,”

—

Two weeks after their Uranium mission, the crew has decided to hang out in the Hard Deck before some of them get shipped out into another deployment. Rooster was busy with Hangman, the two have been getting along ever since Hangman saved Rooster and Mav’s lives. They hung at one of the back tables of the Hard Deck, a bottle of beer in each other's hand. They’re standing awfully close, which makes Phoenix raise a brow.

“Let’s hope they don't break each other's heart again,” Bob snickers, picking at his cashews.

“You don't want to take care of Roo?”

“God no, you're lucky you weren't there for the first time,” Phoenix’s face scrunches in disgust, which makes Bob laugh. The WSO has been sticking with his pilot for most of their leisure time, mostly because he didn't know where else to go. Bob supposed he’ll follow where his next mission took him, or hope Cyclone is merciful and put him and Phoenix on the same crew.

Coyote and Payback are playing pool, along with the others, sometimes cheering one of them on or laughing at a joke or quip the group would say. Maverick said he couldn't join the crew, something about spending his day with Iceman, which they all completely understood and cheered in their group chat. It's a particularly slow day for the Hard Deck, not a lot of patrons on this sunny Wednesday. Penny was conversing with another patron, and overall calming noon washing over Fightertown.

The doors of Hard Deck chimes open. Bob and Phoenix are engrossed in their conversation, and despite standing on the other side of the bar, they did not recognize the customer that came in. A tall man on his peripherals is the only thing Bob notices before Phee makes him laugh and he’s back to ducking.

“Hey there, I'm looking for a Bob Floyd?”

The familiar voice almost gave Bob whiplash as he turned his head. And he thought he'd lost him…

“Panther?”

The man in question walks past the bar and finds the familiar and comforting blue of Bob’s eyes. The pilot stands from his stool, taking shaky steps toward Panther.

The last Bob ever heard of Panther was years ago, before his first deployment as they were assigned their own squadron. Bob was devastated that he wouldn't be getting the same squadron as Panther did, but with reassuring parting words, Panther promised the younger pilot that they’d meet again, one way or another. Since then, Bob has been moving from one deployment to another, meeting new people and squadrons, and experiencing different pain and happiness in his life. He got into the Top Gun program, and he met his current friends. He met Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy and the others, but despite it all he had hoped to somehow see Panther again.

He never considered the man to find him.

“Hey,” Panther's smile is just as blinding as he remembers it. He gives Bob a once over, spotting the outfit Bob is wearing, before he chuckles. “Never changed, huh?”

Bob follows his laugh, finding the courage to reach out to hold Panther's wrist, which makes a steady blush rise to his cheeks. Panthers laugh stutters before he clears his throat and scratches at the back of his neck.

“And you never changed too,” Panther's eyes widen a bit, before he breaks into a smile, which makes Bob grin. He brings himself to stand closer to Panther, having to crane his neck to meet the man's eyes.

“How did…” Bob's question falters, but luckily still understood Panther.

“I found you? Well, word travels fast when you are on the same mission as Captain Maverick,” Panther smirks. Bob laughs, realizing the recent fame the crew got ever since they spent their time with Mav. If you were taught by the legendary Maverick and were on a successful mission alongside him, the story definitely travels fast.

Though, Bob's brow furrows again. ��But how did you know I was here?”

“I have my sources,” Panther shrugs, making Bob pat his arm. He's still supporting those muscles that made Bob’s head spin. Bob blinks, trying to hide away his blush by suddenly pulling Panther into a hug, which makes the man laugh and wrap his arms around the shorter pilot. Panther shakes from the laughter as he rests his chin on Bob's head. Bob melts at the sound of the familiar heartbeat, the warmth Panther exudes.

The two move apart when they suddenly hear the sound of clapping, only to find Hangman walking towards them. “Is that the Panther I see?”

Bob tilts his head, before he feels himself being shifted to stand beside the taller man. “Hangman,”

His jaw slackens. He has never seen Panther revert back to the stone-cold gaze he once wore back in basics, not even when Bob made a mistake that Panther rightfully got angry about. Yet, right now, he has that exact face while facing Hangman.

“I never thought I’d see the day when you're back in Fightertown,”

“Never thought I'd see your douchey-ass here again,” Panther retorts. He stands much taller than Jake, though he still has his bite despite the height difference, seemingly unbothered. Jake leans over to look behind Panther's broad shoulders, finding a confused Bob.

“You knew him?” Jake smirks.

“We were in basics together,” Bob nods, his hand slowly reaching for Panther's arm, patting it softly. “He’s my friend,”

Panther takes a breath, before sighing and moving aside, turning towards Bob with a frown. “Sorry, my bad,”

“It’s alright, I'm fine, Panther,” Bob smiles, pushing stray strands behind Panther's ear affectionately.

Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the crew, including Jake, is currently looking at the two with wide eyes and jaws on the floor. Bob wasn't particularly open to touch, in fact—The only people that ever hugged him were the selected few in the Dagger Squad. Phoenix was normally seen with him, and even then she kept her distance with the backseater. And to the extent of Hangman's knowledge, the Panther he knew back in his Fighter Squadron days was a reserved and quiet guy, mostly intimidating with his height and build, but usually kept it to himself. To see the usually scary man being so touchy with a usually not touchy-feely guy is, to say the least, odd.

The two spent the rest of the day catching up. Bob has learned that Panther took a different route than aiming for Top Gun, and instead got deployed at some places to teach classes, the main reason why he hasn't been able to visit Fightertown. He also learned the second that he got a whiff of information that a squadron, led by Maverick, has done a successful mission and is still in Miramar, Panther booked the first flight to San Diego. He wasn't expecting to find Bob, he was hoping.

Panther ended up listening to everything his friend dumped on him. He knows Bob doesn't easily talk, only in short replies, so he’s happy to find him still so accepting to share his life with Panther. He learns about the Dagger Squad, how he's apparently close with Maverick now, and his experience throughout the death-defying mission. Panther, regardless of it all, was glad he had Bob in one piece instead of being invited to the aviator's honorable funeral. He’s proud to hear Bob making new friends, meeting new people, and is especially interested in meeting Phoenix.

“Oh wait, let me use the toilet, be back in a bit,” Panther places his Whiskey down, patting Bob's back as he heads to the toilets.

Phoenix immediately corners her WSO, sliding up next to him. She stares him down, bewildering Bob. “Who’s that guy and what's his deal?”

Bob takes a second to blink. “Im- Panthers my friend,”

“He seems more than a friend, Bob,” He knew he was safe with Phoenix. He knew he was safe with everyone, because they aren't like the old folks who glare at any two guys standing too close for comfort. Hell, they have Rooster and Hangman who are currently dancing around each other. But for Bob to tell Pheonix his ‘once boyfriend’ was a bit challenging for him. But he trusts her, and she worries for him.

“He’s my… Old Boyfriend? We never broke up, but-”

“He left you?”

“No! Phee please,” Bob sighs, readjusting his glasses. “ We got different squadrons and went our separate ways, honestly, it's a miracle he ever found me,”

The aviator looks down at his glass, the water reflecting his longing gaze. Bob smiles. “I never stopped loving him,”

Phoenix leans back, away from her backseater. Her eyes find the deep pools of Bob’s blues, having known him well enough to see past his usual awkward demeanor. The pilot huffs, before she looks past Bob and then stands. “I’m sure he feels the same,”

She passes Bob then, not before patting his shoulder, then walking away. Panther passes by the pilot, the shorter lady giving him a knowing look which makes Panther's brows crease, but he takes his seat again, already turning to face Bob.

“That’s Phoenix?”

“Heh, yeah,” Bob answers into his glass as he sips. Panthers swivel back around, finding Phoenix next to Hangman and an unknown man who supports a great porn stache. Panther manages a small smile, to which Phoenix responds with a nod.

“I like her,” Bob laughs.

—

It was well over closing hour when Penny finally pushed the crew out of the Hard Deck door, saying something about reporting them to Maverick if she had to, which made all of the squad rush out and into San Diego’s cool evening.

Some piled into Fitz’s car, Halo went with Phoenix on her bike, Hangman is already in Roosters Bronco, which left Bob alone with Panther. The two stay on the bar's porch, watching their friends stumble into their respectful vehicle. Bob spotted the guys fighting over who drives Fitz’s car even though the only sober one was Yale at that point, which made him laugh. Halo was already clinging to a sober Phoenix, clearly babbling about something.

Throughout the night, Panther has gotten into conversations with the squad. Hangman even offered him a match at pool, which he demolished, leaving Jake to wallow his way to Rooster, so he learned the name of the pilot with the sick stache. Panther felt welcomed amongst them, their sense of family palpable. He finds himself smiling most of the time, which freaked Jake out. And it seems they're on a first-name basis now, which Bob greatly appreciates.

They watch as their friends pull out of the parking lot, some blasting music, others oddly calm which bothered Bob. He hopes Rooster won't actually break Jake.

After the dust has settled and their rear lights are far off into the distance, Bob releases a sigh, smiling to himself.

“So, Bob,” Panther turns to him, making Bob tilt his head to match. “I have my Range Rover,”

“Still the same old?”

“The one my aunt gifted me, yeah,” Panther laughs, which makes Bob grins. He suddenly grew quiet, looking down into Miramar’s sand instead of meeting Bob. The shorter man furrows his brow, something churns in his gut. Before Panther opens his mouth, Bob beats him to it.

“I don't-” Bob takes a breath. “...What are we?”

At that, Panther smiles easily. He reaches for Bob's hand, holding them, drawing small circles on the back of the pilot's hands. “I’m your boyfriend, if you’ll take me,”

Then he brings Bob’s chin close, pressing his lips against him, and it’s back to basics. Back to the old dorms where Bob felt a surge of euphoria. Where he could finally let his walls be undone by the man he trusted the most. He’s missed this. Missed the easy slide of their lips, the comforting scent of Panther, the way his hand slots between the man's broad chest, how Panther pulls him closer by his hips and suddenly he’s weightless. Bob smiles into their kiss, happy to finally regain his spot between Panther's arms.

Requests are opened! Reminder to reblog!

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Love Rises From The Ashes 🔥 | Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x male rockstar!reader (romantic), Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader (past romance), dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, light angst, mentioned of implied suggestive content| Male!reader (he/him) | wc: 7.1k

Premise: High school sweethearts don’t always get a second chance at love. Natasha Trace and Y/n L/n surely didn’t think they would. With Natasha becoming one of the best fighter pilots the Navy has ever produced and Y/n sealing his name as rock music’s resident bad boy, the two couldn’t be on opposite sides of the spectrum. But fate seems to work in mysterious ways.

requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Note: to the anon who requested this I hope you enjoyed it! So sorry it took awhile, I had to deal with dropping a class and things came up so I hope I delivered with everything you imagined. Thank you so much for your patience ! I had so much fun writing this and loved every second! ♥️

Songs headcanon for rockstar!reader: “Giving Up the Gun” by Vampire Weekend, “Where I Come From,” by Passion Pit, “The Antidote,” by St. Vincent, “No Control,” & “Girl Almighty” by One Direction, “These Streets,” by Bastille, “Beggin’” By Måneskin.

February 2023

“Hello I’m Ryan Secrest and we are live from the red carpet at Crypto.com Arena at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards! It’s the biggest night in music with all the stars here tonight—Harry Styles, Taylor Swift, Lizzo, Bad Bunny and Beyonce have been spotted. Hip-Hop celebrates 50 years with a stellar lineup in tonight’s tribute as well as honors to music legends Smokey Robinson and Berry Gordy. Everyone’s buzzing about the upcoming performance—Bad Bunny is rumored to be opening the show and rock n roll bad boy Y/n L/n will be sharing the stage with icons The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Stay tuned or tap into our livestream happening on YouTube as we greet music's biggest stars as they walk the red carpet.”

Fixing the collar of his neon green Versace suit, Y/n smiles when he feels Natasha take his hand as the limo approaches the entrance of the carpet. Dressed in a stunning black gown with neon green poking through the sides and the iconic Versace paperclips attaching them together, Nat was a goddess. Her makeup was similar to his, light with black eyeliner to accentuate her eyes with neon green graphic detailing to make it pop. Only Nat’s was clean and sharp whereas Y/n’s was smudged. A glossy nude painted her lips.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. “Nervous?” It didn’t surprise him that Nat could tell what he was feeling. They’d known each other for so long it was easy to pick up on cues from one another.

“You would think I’d be used to this by now,” Y/n chuckled, flipping his hand so his palm encased hers. “After so many years….but still the carpet part has me sweating.” Briefly thinking back to one of his first red carpets, Y/n internally cringed as the image of him not knowing what the hell to do and talking to so many reporters in a short amount of time. Nowadays he’s had no filter and will say whatever shit comes to mind. The media loves it obviously…except when it’s directed at them.

For the rockstar, he only liked showing up to award shows for the show itself. He looked forward to sitting in the chairs with fellow musicians, watching performances, and the thrill of excitement when he won whatever he was nominated for.

Personally he could do without the red carpet. But unfortunately it came with the event. It was the fucking Grammy’s after all.

Nat patted his hand, pulling him from the memory, “You’re a pro at this, babe. Patty and I will be there every step.” Patty was his publicist, who really made it easier for him on carpets by telling the interviewer to keep it fast and quick. “And if you feel overwhelmed or want to get out of there quickly just squeeze my hand and we’ll book it.” The offer makes Y/n laugh, kissing Nat’s hand as he brings it to his lips.

“What would I do without you, Natasha Trace?”

“I like to not think about that,” she teases with a smirk, “But you’d probably try to find a backdoor to sneak into the stadium.”

“Yeah…I definitely would.”

As the limo came to a stop, Y/n mentally prepared himself to face the dozens of cameras, screaming fans, and vulture reporters. He wondered where the guys were going to be seated. Knowing Rooster they probably got the floor beside the stage reserved for fans or front rows of the stands on the side. Either way, he was gonna search them out once they got inside.

Cheers met Y/n’s ears, ringing as he gave a brief wave when stepping out of the vehicle. Turning he held out his hand to assist Natasha, her diamond engagement ring sparkling under the daylight. The cheers seemed to increase at the sight of her, the woman blushing while Y/n smoothed out the fabric of her dress. With a kiss to her cheek, he took her hand and led her onto the carpet, both waving to the many supporters calling out to them.

“Y/n, I love you!!!”

“You look gorgeous, Natasha!! You guys are so hot!!”

“Good luck tonight—it’s your year!!”

Then you had the photographers shouting over them.

“Y/n, Natasha, over here!!”

“Can we get a glimpse of that ring, Natasha?”

“When’s the wedding—are you two having it in San Diego or New York?”

“Over here, Y/n, over here!”

“Y/n, are you excited to perform with the Red Hot Chili Peppers tonight?”

“Yes I am,” he replied over the noise, making the guy give a smile of victory he got acknowledged. “It’s gonna be epic, I can tell you that.”

Soon it came time for the interviews. And God was there a lot. E! Network, Access Hollywood, MTV, ABC, EXTRA, Hollywood Reporter, Entertainment Tonight, & The Insider….and those were just the major ones. Smaller networks were present as well, but thankfully Y/n’s publicist only scheduled him for the big ones.

“Y/n, Natasha, lovely to see you two here tonight,” the lady from Entertainment Tonight greeted them with a smile, “you two look stunning—who are you wearing?”

“These are custom pieces from Donatella Versace herself,” smoothing a hand down his chest, Y/n gave Natasha a twirl to show off her gown. “It’s the Grammy’s so you know we had to roll in nothing but the best.”

“As you should—we love to see it. Let me be the one of many congratulations on your recent engagement,” the couple grinned, thanking her while the camera panned to Nat’s ring. “You two have been together for four years, correct?”

“Going on four this year. But if you count when we were teenagers then about seven,” Winking, Y/n sees Nat blush once more, the reporter lovin the juicy details.

“That’s right, you two were high school sweethearts. How was it when you guys rekindled, did it feel like it was back then or sorta fresh?”

Natasha answered this time, “A mix of both really. We had been good friends as kids that blossomed into young love before fate took us separate ways. When we reunited it was almost like meeting a different person while also feeling the sense of familiarity within them. If that makes sense,” she laughs at the end.

“I agree, but then again I know not to disagree with this one,” Y/n teases, tickling Nat’s side to make her giggle. The reporter and cameras were eating it up. Y/n brings his fiancée closer to him, “We gotta thank our buddy, aka my old flame turned bestie, Rooster, who brought us back together. That’s not his actual name by the way,” the rockstar laughs at the perplexed expression of the reporter, “He is not named after a male chicken.”

“Old flame?” She hums curiously, “by that do you mean your ex?”

Y/n feels his publicist tap him on the shoulder, signaling it was time to go to the next interviewer. Squeezing Nat’s hand, he smirks to the camera, “He prefers to be called, ‘long-term booty call,’.” With that he spun on his heel to escort Nat away, chuckling at the lady’s jaw dropping at the answer. Beside him, Nat playfully tsks, “Bradshaw’s never gonna forget that.”

“Oh he loves it.”

If you asked the 36 year old rockstar that his once fling with a hot asipiring Naval aviator would lead him to his teenage love, Y/n would’ve told you, “This ain’t a fucking romance story. But I love the optimism.”

Traveling back in time while he goes through the many reporters and photographers, Y/n could still picture the once young 15-year old smitten with the girl next door who was his best friend. What was supposed to be a pact between the two of each other’s first kiss, turned into something more than was once a fantasy to them. Both harboring crushes without saying anything until the feelings after the kiss became too much and they were spilling the confessions at the same time.

“I like you—.”

“Wait—what?”

“You serious right now?” Cue a passionate kiss seconds later. The two over the moon in what could only be described as a teenage dream happening before their eyes. Endless nights of sneaking out without their parents knowing to cuddle and skateboard down the quiet streets, exchanging kisses while the stars danced above them. Stares from their peers in school were envious on both ends. Girls jealous that Nat was with the resident bad boy they all desired to have while guys couldn’t believe Y/n pulled the girl of their dreams.

They were complete opposites.

Y/n with his gages, ripped 80s band t-shirts and chains with highlights in his hair. Kids would call him names because he liked makeup, painted his nails and often wore large shirts as dresses with heeled boots. He wasn’t afraid to call people out on their bullshit even if they were figures of authority and was open about loving people regardless of what rested between their legs. While he was smart he didn’t care much for school but still did what he had to do though it was half ass.

Then you had Natasha, captain of the color guard and member of the JROTC drill team. Every year she was elected the president or VP of the class’s student council, claiming student body president of her senior class. Popular wasn’t the right term for her. Nat was well known throughout the school by name but she wasn’t someone who surrounded herself with a lot of friends. Not to mention she wasn’t the typical stuck up bitch people associated with popularity. Kind and nurtured, Nat was the type to welcome new students and offer tutoring to those in need. She was the top student in all her classes, rumored to be the Valedictorian when she graduated and crowned homecoming Queen.

Two sides of a coin, while Natasha was the one everyone saw making it big in the world, people believed Y/n would be a lost cause in the world. His grades were the bare minimum, test scores lacking when it came to college applications and showed no interest in pursuing higher education. Really the only thing he enjoyed was music class and showed talent in English when they were in poetry lessons. His teacher once said, “These are like songs, Y/n. I’m amazed with how lyrically beautiful they are,” she reads over the lines before handing the paper back to him, “Have you ever thought of going to music school?”

“I would if my family could afford it and if it was a guarantee my work would make it big. But it’s not so why waste my time and money.” Was always his answer.

His girlfriend on the other hand had every teacher offering to write letters of recommendation. Her ACT and SAT scores were exceeding, qualifying for Ivy League schools like Harvard and Princeton. Any university Nat applied to was met with an acceptance letter, the one bringing her most joy from the Naval Academy.

It was already common knowledge to Y/n that Nat wanted to be a pilot. Ever since they were kids she was talking about planes and flying. She was one of those kids who loved going to the airport when her family went on vacation that required them flying. One time she even asked to see the cockpit and was captivated by all the controls the pilots were telling her about. Then the local air show took place at the nearby naval base, securing the dream for Natasha she was determined to achieve.

So when the summer after graduation ended, both knew what was coming.

“We’ve got each other on MySpace,” her voice is soft, keeping her eyes on him while her family finished packing up the car with her belongings. “We can write letters and send emails. Maybe even plan a visit some time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n agrees, matching her tone. Hands in his pockets, he tries not to show how heartbroken he is. It was a mutual breakup so it shouldn’t hurt too much, but when it’s your first love you’re saying goodbye to the impact is lasting. “Even if we fall off, Nat, just know I’m always rooting for you. You were made for something more than this shitty place.”

“So are you,” she counters. “You act like you have nothing going for you now that school is over, but Y/n you have so much talent. You should really try to find a band or intern at some label—no matter how small. Maybe someone will see your work. I’m rooting for you too, you know?”

“I know, Natty. I’ll think about it. You just focus on becoming the best damn pilot the Navy has ever seen. We’ll see what fate has planned for me.”

Off to the Academy, Nat shed tears as the image of her now ex-boyfriend got smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. She could only hope they would stay in contact, or cross paths in the future, but for now she had a mission to do.

Out of school and with little to his name, Y/n packed up everything he owned and moved to New York City. There he found an ad for a roommate with a bunch of guys who attended Pratt Institute, which just so happened to be above a music store. Quickly he secured a job at the shop and worked as many days as he could to save up for equipment to start making his own music.

Unfortunately he and Natasha did fall off like he expected. It pained him to admit he wasn’t surprised, but when the two of them were on completely opposite sides of the spectrum and lives going separate paths, it was bound to happen. All he hoped was for her to be having a great time at the Academy. That she would have all her dreams come true. From the sidelines he was her cheerleader.

After a couple years of working at the store, however, the shop owners Y/n had become close to eventually allowed him to borrow some instruments they had that were not for sale—so long as he did not fuck them up. Originally Y/n planned to make mock music videos for his songs and upload them to the buzzing video sharing website YouTube.

What he didn’t plan for was his boss contacting a buddy of his who happened to work at Def Jam Records after Y/n showed him his demo for ‘Giving Up The Gun.’

“Y/n, come here real quick,” Alan called him over from behind the register, the 21-year-old noticing he was with a man in a suit. The man appeared to be the same age as Alan, shaking Y/n’s hand when he introduced himself, “The name's Dale Kingston. You must be Y/n, Alan has told me a lot about you.”

“Hello, Sir,” he politely replies, glancing over to Alan with a raised brow. “Forgive me, but he’s never mentioned me to you.” The two men lightly laugh.

“Nah I wouldn’t put it past him too. Old man likes to keep everything about him mysterious.”

“I don’t who you’re calling old,” Alan quips back playfully, “Anyway, Y/n. Dale and I go way back—we were roommates in college actually. And while I made a career of sharing the art of music by opening my businesses, Dale ended up making a career of looking for the next best talent in the industry. He’s an exec at Def Jam Records,” Y/n felt his bulge open, flickering to Dale who nodded as Alan’s lips rose to a smirk. “And I sent him what you showed me. Hope you don’t mind, but Dale would like to talk to you if you’re alright with it.”

In just one hour of conversing, Dale left Y/n with his business card and a meeting with his team at their headquarters in Manhattan that weekend. Bursting through the door of his apartment, Y/n’s roommates flinched at the sudden sound, “Get up motherfuckers we’re going out tonight!!!” At the popular gay bar just up the street from where they lived, Y/n and his roommates celebrated with drinks and made out with strangers while dancing to Rihanna and Lady Gaga blasting through the speakers.

“Yo, Y/n/n, that hottie in the Hawaiian shirt is totally eye fucking you right now.”

“Well hot damn,” he hummed in delight, making eye contact with said hottie in a Hawaiian shirt. ‘Oh I’m going home with him tonight.’

The hottie in the Hawaiian shirt was named Bradley Bradshaw. A total stud, he rocked the 80s pornstache like no other and a body Y/n wanted to lick sugar off of. He was a native of Virginia who was visiting New York with some of his friends to celebrate his impending entrance to the Naval Academy.

Y/n found this as they basked in the afterglow of their hot session following the bar, “Wait, you’re going to the Naval academy? This fall?”

“Yup,” Bradley proudly states, “It sucks though cause I’ll be the oldest in my class. I’m about to be twenty-two and I’ll be surrounded by eighteen and nineteen year olds.”

“Why is that?” At Bradley’s changed expression, Y/n quickly takes the question back. “Nevermind, don’t tell me if you don’t want to. Shit, I just made it awkward.”

“No-no-no,” Bradley chuckles, placing his beer down on the nightstand. “It’s okay—just I am still bitter about it as you can tell. My uh…the guy who was like a father to me after my dad died pulled my application when I initially sent it in high school.” The confession has Y/n frown, feeling the wave of sadness and resentment radiate off of Bradley.

“That fucking wasn’t right. Did he ever tell you why?”

“No. He wouldn’t when I confronted him,” he rubs his jaw, “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Switching things up so as to not further upset Bradley, Y/n asks, “What are you going for?” This brings light to the man, a smile coating his face.

“Aeronautical engineering.”

Something in Y/n’s stomach flipped, “Oh wow…are you wanting to be a pilot?” Surprise now takes over, Bradley raising a brow as asks how he knew. Y/n lights a blunt, taking a deep inhale to prepare him for explaining. He would’ve offered Bradley it but now knowing he was going to a military academy it was best not to.

“My ex girlfriend is there for the same. In fact…she should be graduating next spring,” he sighs out the smoke, feeling the ease fill his veins as memories of Natasha play in his mind. “Being a pilot was all she ever dreamed of. It’s why she worked so hard in school to meet the requirements for the program. Valedictorian, Cadet Colonel of the JROTC unit—we had Air Force not Navy though,” he specified at Bradley’s tilt of the head of the ranks. “We broke up just before she moved into the dorms. It was mutual, no hard feelings at all. She was going places and at the time I wasn’t.”

“And now you’re going places?” Bradley wondered aloud. Lips lifting in a smirk, Y/n simply replied, “Let’s sure fucking hope so.”

The rest of the night was filled with small talk and discussions about each other’s hopeful future. Y/n filled Bradley in on his dreams of music and how he was meeting with execs from Def Jam. Bradley was leaving back to Virginia soon but they promised to meet up again and keep in touch. They continued to hook up a few more times after that night and even went on a few dates, but after a couple months they realized they were better off as friends. Just like with Natasha, Y/n didn’t want to tie Bradley down or expect something serious when he was just starting his Naval career.

Plus, his own dreams were just getting started.

“That was ‘Giving Up The Gun,’ by an upcoming artist from Def Jam Records, Y/n L/n. The twenty-one year old from Scottsdale, Arizona seems to be giving a new voice to rock music, throwing in elements of pop and techno that we’ve gotten lucky to hear from his newly released EP. Critics and fans have already started labeling him the next David Bowie due to his colorful hair and outfits while not being afraid to wear glitter eyeshadow and lipstick. For those of us in the studio, we’re looking forward to what Y/n has to offer the music world.”

An EP became an album. One that hit the top of the charts in its first few weeks and established Y/n as the next rock n roll bad boy. Winning Best New Artist at the VMAs and AMAs, the early 2010s had Y/n’s name written all over it. Appearances on Good Morning America and the Ellen Degeneres Show. New York became his base of operation and soon Y/n embraced the high life he was getting from making it big. Rooster and him met up often to celebrate each milestone, the two growing closer as the years went on.

The next big break came in 2011 when Y/n was offered features on the Twilight Saga Breaking Dawn Part 2 soundtracks. ‘Where I Come From’ & ‘The Antidote’ were huge successes. He couldn’t believe he was walking the red carpet of a Hollywood premier when the film was released. And Lord was Robert Pattinson a sight for sore eyes. Kristen too. The soundtrack went on to receive a Grammy nomination with Y/n winning at the Teen Choice Awards the next summer. A world tour shortly after, Y/n fell in love with the road and meeting fans every night from across the globe.

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the fan casts people made of him. Anytime it was announced a book was getting an adaptation, he was always what people pictured as the bad boy/sexy villain.

But acting wasn’t something Y/n was interested in. Personally he felt like he couldn’t act for shit and wouldn’t handle 12 hour work days or having to move every few months for a new project. New York was his home, with L.A being his second, and music was his life.

By 2016 Y/n had really made a name of himself in the music world. He was featured on more film soundtracks like Fast & The Furious 7 and Deadpool. Rock music got a new wave of fans. Y/n even changed it up a bit by collaborating with pop artists and rappers. ‘These Streets’ was well received by critics and fans, earning Y/n his third Grammy nomination that he had yet to win.

“You’re gonna get this year, Y/n/n,” Rooster assured him, passing a beer as they sat on the lounge chairs overlooking the beaches of Virginia. “If you don’t then they’re fucking out of their mind. Your hits this year were amazing—top of the charts and platinum in weeks! I’ll boycott them next year if they don’t give it to you.”

Unfortunately Rooster would have to make due with that promise for a few years.

Y/n didn’t want to say he cared about winning a Grammy. But truth be told he did wish he could say that of the nearly seven nominations he had received by 2019, he got a win. Whether it was Record of The Year or Album of The Year, it seemed the golden trophy was out of his reach. Whenever it was brought up in interviews he would brush it off saying, “I’m honored to have been recognized just from my nominations, but I don’t believe it should dictate how I am as an artist.”

One day he hoped to be standing on the stage, holding the award and thanking his loved ones and team who were just as much of winners as he was. But only time would tell.

Speaking of time, it seemed to work in mysterious ways.

A phone call from Rooster in December of 2019 had Y/n clad in a stunning suit appropriate for a Military ball and on his way to meet some of the pilots colleagues. It was to be a celebratory event to commemorate the group of Top Gun alumni in their successful mission stopping a uranium enrichment plant from becoming operational. Y/n had been very worried when Bradley informed him of the assignment. He was overseas finishing up his tour so one could imagine the anxiety he felt at the possibility his best friend could die.

Bradley picked Y/n up from his hotel in San Diego, the two having a quick pregame before arriving at the venue to the shell-shocked faces of the officers. Mickey, who was introduced as Fanboy, could barely make out words. Javy and Jake were looking at each other with expressions that read, “what the actual fuck?”, while Payback took a moment to be like ‘woah’ and proceed to act like Y/n was just a regular person.

“So how do you two know each other?” Jake was the first to ask what everyone was thinking. It wasn’t everyday one learns their rival-turned-friend was casually best friends with one of the best modern rock stars of their generation. Then he choked on his beer when Y/n simply replied, “We used to hook up.”

The questions rolled off from there.

“Wait, you two were together?”

“And you stayed friends?”

“Hold the phone, I need some details.”

After taking time to answer the questions, Rooster takes the moment to ask, “Where’s Phoenix and Bob?” This has Y/n raise his brow, not knowing who either were. Rooster had only briefly mentioned his colleagues to him, but never really explained who they were or how they met. He liked to keep his work life separate from his personal life.

Payback answered, “they’re on the way. I think Bob mentioned his Dress Blues were lost in the cleaners so he had to scramble to get a tux.”

“Damn. Well let’s get some drinks ready for when they get here.”

To say Y/n’s jaw about hit the floor when his eyes landed on Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was an understatement. In fact he had to rub his eyes just to make sure it was really her he was seeing. The same could be said for Natasha, who’s own eyes were bulging from her skull.

“Nat?”

“Y/n/n?’

Now everyone was looking between the two. “You two know each other too?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, “Well if this isn’t a small world, then I don’t know what is.” A sudden feeling he couldn’t describe washed over him. He turns to Rooster to whisper under his breath, “You remember my high school girlfriend I once told you about?” Now it’s the pilot whose eyes are wide.

“Nat’s your high school sweetheart?” The exclamation could pretty much be heard through the entire venue, the daggers all showing faces of shock.

“Yup,” Y/n pops the ‘p’, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “She sure is.” Facing Nat, he bites his lip and says, “Uh, how have you been, Nat? It’s been like….I wanna say ten…fifteen years?”

“Just about, yeah,” Nat blushes, unsure how to respond. But how does one respond when they’re faced with their high school sweetheart who was a best selling rockstar? “I’ve been good. I would ask the same, but I’ve been following your career since you debuted.”

“You have?” Y/n was surprised by this. “Wow, um thank you. I see you were just as successful in your endeavors.” It comes to his mind that Natasha was the person Bradley always referred to as Phoenix in his stories. “Bradley’s told me a lot about you…but I never thought to ask what the name of ‘Phoenix’ was. Possibly I would've reunited with you sooner if I did.”

Nat takes the drink Y/n hands to her with a thanks, “You know when he mentioned he was good friends with someone named Y/n that he used to be involved with, I just assumed it was someone who shared a name with you. I didn’t think to ask further.”

“Eh, I don't blame you. I felt the instant awkwardness at the realization you and him share an ex.” Gesturing for the two to sit at a table away from the others, Y/n shared a look with Bradley and saw him biting back a laugh at his words. Nat on the other hand appeared a little flustered.

“How long were you together?” She cringed at how awful the question sounded. Why the fuck did she need to know? Her and Y/n had been broken up for years. It’s not like they were going to just pick things back up where they left off.

“Oh only a couple months. We realized we were better off as friends—especially since he was going off to the Academy and I had just been signed. To be honest,” Y/n paused to sip his beer, “it was mostly just the physical attraction we needed to get out of the way. It was great while it lasted but it never felt like it could become something more.” He made sure to not add the tiny fact he still had feelings for Natasha at the time.

Well maybe he still did. Lord knows being next to her was giving him those schoolboy feelings again.

The two talked almost the entire night. And then when the ball was done and the team migrated to The Hard Deck, they continued to stay close to each other. Nat told Y/n all about her years at the Academy and making it to fight school. Becoming one of the few female aviators and an alumni of the prestigious Fighter Weapons School before ending with the details about the mission she did with Rooster.

“It was the most intense thing I had ever been a part of,” she explained. “I’ve seen some crazy shit in all the years I’ve been flying. But this mission was beyond my limit—I-I still can’t believe we managed to pull it off.”

“I’m really proud of you, Nat,” Y/n’s smile was genuine, filled with sincerity. “Rooster told me about what he could, and hearing your side just makes me so grateful you guys came home.”

Y/n gave Nat all the juicy details of his high life in the music industry. How his boss was friends with an executive from Def Jam and was basically the reason he got discovered. He couldn’t help but laugh when Nat admitted she bought his albums and would watch the award shows he attended.

“I’m just so happy for you!” She defended with a playful shove. “After I heard you made it big of course I was going to support you anyway I could. You were also featured in Twilight and I happened to be obsessed with it when it came out so I was very excited to see you were featured on the soundtrack. Call me biased but ‘The Antidote’ and ‘Where I Come From’ are my favorites you’ve ever released.”

By the end of the night…or nearly morning because the time was pushing 4 am, Y/n and Nat parted ways with the promise of meeting up for coffee that weekend.

Neither went into things expecting anything to happen. As adults they simply wanted to see how things played out and if being friends could be possible. They didn’t end on bad terms which was good in itself. So why not try to make a friendship?

Well when a global pandemic hits when you and your ex are hanging out that results in you two having to go through quarantine together….close proximity can result in things neither planned for.

It first started out with simple compliments and the two watching movies together. Then it progressed to acts of service where Y/n would bring Natasha lunch or coffee when she was remotely working from home. For weeks this happened with both battling feelings beginning to resurface. Natasha tried to brush it off like a teenage crush. That she was being a hopeless romantic at the thought she and Y/n could possibly date again.

Would it be different now that they were adults? It’s not like they were kids again. Both were in successful careers that they worked hard for. Both were financially stable and would live comfortably when they retire in thirty or so years. Nat was a Lieutenant, and likely had a promotion lined up within the next year. And Y/n was working on new music so there was nothing he was too worried about.

After almost three months of dancing around feelings, one night the two were having dinner when the topic was brought up.

“Nat,” Y/n starts with a sigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.” Her face falls to a frown, looking away as her heart picks up pace.

“Put up with what exactly?”

“Pretending like I don’t want to hold you in my arms. Like I don’t want to kiss you on the forehead before you fall asleep or tell you how you’re the most important person in my life. Since I was fifteen I’ve loved you and the reason no relationship I’ve had after has worked is because I’m so hung up on you.”

When he contemplates if he made the mistake confessing, he’s suddenly around the kitchen island to bring Nat into a searing kiss when she says, “What if I told you, you don’t have to pretend anymore?”

Their love felt natural. They already had a taste of it as teenagers. Now as adults it was busting like a rocket ship. That deep, immense feeling of love one can’t even begin to describe. Like the person was their air and kept them to the Earth.

Bradley was over the moon when they told. Really he was the first to find out the second they decided to make it official. He was Y/n’s best friend after all and Nat was the closest he had to a sister. Although he and the rockstar had history, Rooster would never let it be an issue and supported the two wholeheartedly. “It’s about damn time!” He yelled over the FaceTime call. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen since the night of the ball!”

It didn’t take long for the world to find out the resident bad boy of rock music was off the market. Hearts broke but many were happy for Y/n. Lots of fans actually thought it was the most adorable thing that he was back with his high school sweetheart after fifteen years of being apart. Natasha became well loved among his supporters and although she didn’t have much of a social media presence, she was always met with positivity. Anytime there was a rude ‘fan’ she would just block them without giving any attention.

“I’m a fucking pilot,” she rolled her eyes at the comment of how she was only with Y/n for money and his status. “They act like I didn’t make something for myself or have a career.”

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Y/n praises from the side, causing Nat to playfully roll her eyes.

2021 and 2022 were met with several milestones. Natasha was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and Y/n released his fifth studio album. Planning to go on tour in the summer of 2022, the couple went on a much needed vacation to celebrate their two year anniversary and relax after constant nonstop work in their lives.

“I could get used to this,” the pilot hummed in content, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on her skin. The gentle sound of the ocean waves was soothing to her ears. Beside her Y/n laid on his stomach with a book in his hands while music played on the speaker. “Maybe I’ll just stay here while you go off to see the world.”

He snorted, “I’ll be jealous if you do.” Patting her thigh, he closed the book and threw it to the side. Cracking open two bottles of beer, he handed one to Nat, clicking the glass with her, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Happy anniversary to you, mister. Thank you for this.”

“Anything for my baby.”

The tour was a success and Natasha even managed to fly out for a few shows. Fans loved it when she did because she’d stand in the crowd to sing and dance with supporters rather than be in the VIP section or just off the stage. It was almost as though Natasha was the star of the concert rather than Y/n. Every show she attended the camera would be put on her at some point so the rockstar could dedicate his song, ‘Girl Almighty’ to her. He had written it just shortly after the two got back together, the woman instantly tearing up after she first heard the final product.

Fans would go crazy during the set, mostly because Y/n would come to where Natasha was at and get on his knees to sing the line, “I’d get down, I’d get down, I’d get down on my knees for you.” Then he’d hold a cup of water in the air, the crowd doing the same with their own drinks, for, “Let’s have another toast for the girl almighty. Let’s pray we stay young, stay made of lightning.”

Oh and let’s not forget about ‘No Control’…..a fan favorite that had Natasha blushing mad red like a tomato when Y/n wrote it. “I cannot believe you wrote that!”

“You love it, don’t lie.”

She really did though. It was a catchy beat and of course it made her heart skip that Y/n’s work was influenced by her and their relationship. It only made her love him more.

“Stained coffee cup. Just a fingertip of lipstick’s not enough. Sweet (ooh), where you lay (ooh). Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case.”

The audience of his shows would be in a frenzy. Nott a single person was not on their feet belting out the lyrics to the chorus. And Natasha was at the center with the most energy.

“Waking up. Beside you, I’m a loaded gun. I can’t contain this anymore. I’m all yours, I’ve got no control. No control! Powerless, and I don’t care, It’s obvious. I just can’t get enough of you. The pedal’s down, my eyes are closed. No control!”

Birthdays and holidays passed and before they knew it they were ringing in 2023. It wasn’t just a celebration of the new year and the release of Y/n’s single ‘Beggin’’, but also what the future would hold for him and Natasha after the rockstar got down on one knee and presented the love of his life with a gorgeous ring, “Baby, you know I’m not one to believe in superstition where fate works in mysterious ways. But when I look at how life took us apart only to bring us together, I can’t help but wonder if it truly exists. Fans like to call us ‘twin flames’ and honestly I think they’re on to something. Natasha, you’re my best friend. My one true love. The person I was meant to be with. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

They announced their engagement just before the Grammy awards. All over the news the story was being covered, fans buzzing with excitement for the couple.

@ badboy_Y/n: My favorites are engaged!!! Natasha’s ring is so beautiful omg I can’t wait to see the wedding!

@ onmykneesforyou: Natasha and Y/n are the reason I believe in love honestly—I’ll ascend to heaven if they ever break up.

@ SelenaGomez✔️: congratulations to my lovely friends @badboyY/n and @IAmPhoenix on their engagement! So so happy for you two!

@ MTV✔️: Stop my parents are getting married. I am screaming right now!

The night of the Grammy’s Y/n was filled with nerves. He usually was when it came to award shows, however this was different because he was up for Record of The Year, Song of The Year, and Album of the Year with a performance with the iconic Red Hot Chili Peppers. Thankfully Natasha was there to help ease it. She hadn’t attended many since their relationship started due to her job, but the ones she did made it a hell of a lot easier for the rockstar. Getting the red carpet and interviews out of the way, the two made their way inside. There they greeted several of Y/n’s friends and took pictures with celebs they admired. Nat had to hold back fangirling a bit when Ariana Grande and The Weekend approached.

“You look amazing!” Ariana gushed, taking in the stunning outfit Nat wore. “It’s so nice to finally meet you—I love your weekly newsletter you do about all the books you’ve read and places you’ve visited. I think it’s so cool what you do.”

Nat struggled to get words out. Here was THE Ariana Grande, world renowned popstar complimenting her and saying what she did was cool.

They took pictures with Ariana hoping to catch her at the after party before it was time for everyone to take their seats. The whole time Y/n held Nat’s hand or placed his on her thigh, only letting go when it was time to clap. Physical touch was his love language and it never failed to make Natasha feel loved and appreciated.

When it came time for Y/n to perform Beggin’ with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Natasha was on her feet and dancing like she was the only one in the room. Hell, even Taylor Swift, Lizzo, and Harry Styles were dancing with her. “That’s my man!!” She yelled over the cheers when Y/n finished, blowing a kiss when they made eye contact. “I love you!!”

About two hours into the show, it finally came time for the big three.

Y/n cheered when Lizzo won Record of the Year….and about shit his pants when his name was called for Song of The Year.

“Wait, what?” He literally said as Nat jumped up from her seat with a scream, pulling him up to embrace. “Did—did he just say—.”

“You baby! You!”

Artists around him were on their feet, Harry Styles whistling against the uproar of the crows. His heart was racing and tears threatened to fall. It felt like a haze for the rockstar, a slight tremor in his hands as he took the award being handed to him. Then when he faced the crowd he was met with a standing ovation. Fucking Beyoncé was applauding with a grin. Y/n was absolutely speechless at the realization.

For the first time in nine nominations, he finally had a Grammy.

“Holy shit,” were his immediate words. “Wow.” People were still screaming so Y/n took the time to connect eyes with Natasha. She was in visible joy, wiping away a stray tear before clasping her hands together in front of her mouth.

“I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years it seems like—a-and I didn’t really think it was possible,” he paused briefly to glance at the trophy. “First I want to thank the Recording Academy for this honor. To everyone at Def Jam Records and those who’ve been with me since the start of my career—I can’t thank you enough. Shoutout to you Alan if you’re watching. You are the reason I’m standing on this stage—thank you for believing in me and to Dale for giving me the opportunity to share my music with the world. To my family back home and my friends, your support through the years is what’s kept me going.” Y/n smiled, thinking about Rooster and the guys, wishing he could see their reaction.

“And lastly, to the woman who’s my partner in crime. My muse. My best friend since ten years old and the love of my life. Natasha,” he connects eyes with her teary face, noticing how a cameraman had moved closer to her. “I love you so much. Thank you for your love and support. For believing in me and being my shoulder to cry on when the days get tough. You are everything a man could ask for and I’m so blessed to have the honor of being your fiancé. I can’t wait to marry you and see where life takes us. This award is for you, baby.”

Blowing a kiss to Nat, who blows one back, Y/n quickly ends with, “Thank you to everyone here tonight and at home who’s listened to my music and played ‘Beggin’’. Much love to you all—thank you thank you!” He finished just in time when the band started to play to signal his time was up. Y/n was met with open arms from Natasha when he returned to his seat, the rockstar lifting her in the air causing her to burst into giggles.

“Congratulations, baby,” she kissed him on the lips, careful not to ruin his lipstick. “I’m so proud of you—you deserve everything, Y/n.”

“Thank you, my love,” he kisses her again, then gives a wink. “Can’t wait for us to celebrate tonight.” He smirks at the blush that takes over her face.

Together they cheered for Harry after he won Album of the Year and after one last performance the show came to an end. Y/n, Harry, and Lizzo all posed for pictures and Y/n was hauled away for more interviews post ceremony. Finally they were set free to the after party, where the two basically stole the spotlight.

Dancing to the previous year’s hits and songs of the nominees, Natasha and Y/n partied like they were young and wild and free. They did shots with Adele, danced with Ariana Grande, sang with Lil Nas X. It was the time of their lives.

When it all ended Y/n escorted Nat to their ride, her right hand in his left while his right carried her heels, the two giggling like children as they ran down the hallway. Before they exited the venue Y/n brought Nat into a passionate kiss, dipping her slightly causing her to laugh. “I love you, Natasha. So much, you know?” His tone was filled with so much love it nearly took her breath away.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Yeah fate was something not everyone could agree with. But one thing was for sure when it came to Y/n and Natasha. Like the Phoenix, their love rose from the ashes.

……………..

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