#rooster x gender neutral reader

[wittyminds]

Show Me the Way Home

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Anonymous:

Hey I’ve just seen you’re requests are open, could you write something angst and then fluff with Bradley, maybe they’ve both been snapping at each other and then they make up? Xx

CW: Angst, fluff, endangerment of life (idk)

A/N:

This is my first ever fic so please be nice :)

I've never written angst before so it was a gamble as to how this would go. So... enjoy?

*

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Of course, everyone knew accidents could happen in the air but they're never expected. Especially this one.

But being surrounded by a dozen of very experienced pilots it was hard to remember about the dangers of flying and how one small mistake could take someone away from you.

Rooster had been watching your progress through the course with unwavering attention, staring in awe as you shot through the entire thing flawlessly. You were the best pilot here by far but even the strongest have to fall every now and then.

Literally.

He knew that placing Hangman with you had been a mistake as the two of you had been at each other's throats for years. A "friendly competition" back in their first ever course had led to a not so friendly rivalry that everyone knew about. Which made the situation even worse. When two competitive pilots are in the air it's all bound for disaster.

Maverick had set them all the task of shooting down two target planes, each earning them 'kill' points. Hangman had been determined to beat you but you were confident that both those points were yours. It was meant to be a team building task but the two of you were against even wishing the other good luck.

There had been one target left, leaving the two of you whizzing around, determined to leave the other in the dirt. You had taken the other one down moments before Hangman would have, resulting in a rather amusing string of expletives from him.

You had been chasing the final target, Hangman gaining speed on you when it happened.

*

"Hangman, Wraith, this is a team task! I don't want to remind you again!" Marverick's voice rang through the intercom but you didn't listen. You were so close, your target slowly circling the aircraft in front of you.

Rooster realised he had been holding his breath as you strained to close in on your target. The table groaned as he clenched his fist round the feeble wood, the surrounding pilots exchanging knowing glances.

"Just a little further." Your voice muttered through the intercom.

Hangman, who had been quiet for too long, suddenly sprung up in front of you, sending your concentration haywire. Was it too much to ask for a clean shot?

"What the hell, Hangman?" You gritted your teeth in frustration, slowing down so you didn't collide with his rear, "I nearly had him!"

Hangman only smirked, you could feel it through the intercom.

"And let you get all the kill points? I don't think so."

The target plane swerved to try take you off its tail but you both followed it, only slightly unnerved by the sudden change of direction. You could hear Hangman muttering as he tried to get a clean shot which seemed impossible at the new angle.

"This is bullshit." He muttered, suddenly pulling up to get a different angle.

His sudden manoeuvre had left you to fly straight through his jet wash with no warning.

Your plane broke into an uncontrollable spin, everything around you blurry and dizzying. A series of panicked yells escaped you as you spun and Rooster shot out of his seat, ice cold dread drenching his entire body. The room stilled to a deafening silence as you tried to eject from the aircraft.

"Wraith! Can you hear me? Wraith!" Maverick yelled but you were too panicked to answer, still trying to locate the ejection handle.

Rooster couldn't watch, your plane getting closer and closer to the ground with no sign of slowing. The thought of what would happen if it hit the rocks below with you inside-

His feet carried himself out before he could register it, the door swinging shut behind him as he marched out the building and to the safety of his truck.

There, everything would be fine.

*

You and Rooster had been catching feelings over the past months, each glance lasting longer, each graze of the hand full of electricity. There were moments when you would both lean in instinctively after quiet moments together only to realise how close you were before pulling away.

So, it stung when you stepped out of the emergency aircraft, dizzy and half conscious, to not find Rooster waiting. Your heart had dropped at the sight and you stumbled through the doors into the building with only the dream of his arms there to hold you.

After numerous questions and glasses of water, you were given a lift home from Phoenix. She had become the equivalent of your sister but even she didn't want to prod the wound of Rooster's disappearance with questions. You stepped out of her car with a tired farewell, to be greeted by the comforting sight of your home.

Inside there was ice cream, chocolate and far too many rom-coms to keep you distracted.

After a warm shower that would definitely raise her bill a ridiculous amount, you climbed down the stairs in your favourite sweater, a pair of slippers keeping your feet warm from the sudden change in temperature.

The weather had gone from clear to sour in a matter of hours, much like your mood.

How could he leave in a moment like that? When you weren't even sure if you would make it out?

Your thoughts were broken by a frantic knock at the door, the sound clashing with the thundering rain outside. You paused the film, halting Julia Roberts moments away from kissing Richard Gere.

You shrugged the blanket from your shoulders, shuffling the short distance to the door to notice a large shadow huddled under the small overhang above your door. You didn't need to guess who it was for a second as you swung it open to reveal a dripping wet Rooster, holding his jacket over his head.

A thousand thoughts erupted in your head and your nostrils flared.

"Oh, so you do remember me?"

An expression of pain flashed over his face but it was gone in a blurry second.

"Can I please come in?" His voice was pleading and you opened the door wider so he could shelter from the furious pelts of water.

As you shut the door again, he lowered his jacket from above his head to fold in his arms. He ran a hand through his soaking hair, the movement sending a slight jolt through you.

"I just want to say, I feel so shitty for leaving, Y/n. I really do." As he rambled on, you got a proper look at him, not listening as he continued to speak.

His eyes were wide, giving the impression of a puppy being told off for the first time and as you studied him, you noticed his knuckles were stained a slight red.

"What happened to your hand?" You interrupted him quietly and he froze.

You crossed your arms and frowned at him, waiting for a response.

His eyes fell from yours and he rocked back on his heels nervously.

"I punched...." His voice trailed off into a mumble and you strained to hear him.

"I swear to God, Rooster, tell me." Your voice rose and he sighed loudly through his nose.

"I punched Hangman!"

The words rang through the air and your arms fell from their knot. Anger flared in your chest and he rose his head to meet your eyes once more.

"You... what?" You spoke slowly and carefully, taking a step toward him.

"I punched him, alright? He was careless and could have killed you!" Rooster's voice rose and all signs of being nervous disappeared.

"No, not alright! It's not your duty to stand up for me! You clearly didn't feel the need to be there when I got back!" Tears stung your eyes at what he had done but you blinked them back.

"I had to leave! I couldn't stay in that room!"

Anger clouded all your judgement, all you wanted was for him to explain why not punch the guy who had accidentally sent your aircraft spinning. Why did everything have to be so difficult for the two of you? Why couldn't you just settle the stupid argument and get back to Julia Roberts?

You scoffed at him, "Right, because watching the plane go down was so much worse than being inside. What was so awful about the accident that you had to leave? Why cant you just let it go?"

"Because that's exactly how my dad died!"

Every retort building up in her faded with his words. He had never openly spoken about how his dad died except that he had been in a flying accident.

How could he not have told you this in your many deep conversations? Surely it should have come up at 3am with a bottle of vodka clouding your judgements. Maybe it was just one of those things that was meant to be forgotten in the soft, tender moments.

"How was I supposed to know that?" You finally uttered, too shocked to consider how he felt.

"You didn't, I know. But it scared me that you were up there in exactly the same position he was in before it happened." You could see his eyes swimming with tears, only he didn't blink them away.

"Then I don't understand how you're mad at me! It wasn't my fault!" Your voice suddenly went higher than normal and you fought to keep your emotions under control.

"I'm not mad at you!" His hands flew up to his hair and his jacket landed on the floor with a dull thud, "I was just terrified because the person I love most in this god damn world could have died and there was nothing I could do about it!"

You waited for his words to sink in and finally let tears roll down your cheeks.

"Y-you love me?" You whispered, all memories of anger flitting from your mind.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes. You waited for a reply but he only muttered a series of incoherent words before picking up his jacket and shuffling past you to open the door.

Thunder rumbled angrily as he stepped back into the rain, drowning out any words said. You were too shocked to move or go after him. His words kept playing over and over in your hand, a broken record of what you had been hoping for for weeks. But all he said as he slammed the door behind him was a simple, "I'm sorry."

And then once again, he was gone.

As the door slammed, you flinched at the noise and watched his figure storm back to his truck. Rain battered her windows and you ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

You don't know what came over you, probably the countless romance films and books you had indulged in, but you found yourself wrenching the door open and running into the freezing cold rain. Your sweater was drenched in seconds and you squinted through blinding droplets as you sprinted towards Rooster.

He had just about made it to his car but you could catch him. Thunder drowned out your footsteps and when you tried to call his name, the wind howled over you.

Finally, you reached him and breathed out one last call of his name.

He turned round to see you, eyes sad and shoulders heavy.

"Y/n, I'm so sorr-"

But when you reached him you didn't even think before pulling the front of his shirt to lower his lips to yours. In one smooth movement you kissed him breathlessly, his hands flying to support your waist and hip. He didn't kiss back but just as you pulled away, his grip on you tightened, keeping you in place. Your heels lifted from the grass as he moved into him, bringing him closer.

This is what it should have always been. The two of you. Safe in each other's arms.

Just like the movies.

One of his hands moved up to your hair, cupping your head gently as his lips moved in an easy rhythm against yours. Rain ran down your faces, thunder sounding as you blocked out the rest of the world.

All that mattered was the two of you in this moment.

You both pulled back for air, resting your foreheads against the other's as you panted. A relieved laugh escaped you and you pressed another quick kiss against his lips. Your arms had snaked round his neck and you stood staring at the man before you, still processing what you had done.

"Rooster?"

You were too breathless to speak properly and he hummed quietly, nudging your nose with his.

"Take me to bed now, or lose me forever."

Your smiled as he kissed you deeply again, suddenly lifting you up to wrap your legs round his waist. Another laugh escaped you at his goofy grin but he cut you off with a kiss.

"Show me the way home, Y/n."

[megzscribbleznwordz]

i saw that you do 12 oz mouse x reader (you did mouse for the request) and um. can. can you do roostre for my request please. please and thank you okay bye

I'm so happy there's someone else out there who wants X Readers for the 12 Oz Mouse show. It's one of the ones I saw for the first time most recently, and I'm very excited that other people likeys it too :3

Roostre

Roostre is a big sweetie pie with his lover. Like he’s so down bad for you it’s actually adorable

He loves it when you help him out on the corndog farm, accepting any help graciously and with strong appreciation. That’s probably how your relationship starts, helping out on the farm and having him invite you out on a date with him. 

Roostre introduces you to the others fairly early on, excited to see you find a place in the friend group if you’re interested in doing so. He’s very casual with affection too, having no reservations about peppering you in kisses and calling you all sorts of sweet things while you’re with the others

He’s very skilled in the acoustic guitar, and loves to strum out tunes for you. Nothing Is nicer than just relaxing, the two of you, while he practices his craft and plucks out some notes for you. Definitely serenades you quite frequently

Roostre makes every date about reminding you what it is about him you love, showering you in compliments and sweetness, making delightful conversation, letting you know how much he loves you 

Pet names include: Sweetheart, Sweet Corn, lovey, lover

Roostre is a very good listener! I feel like he isn’t the most chatty at social occasions, but he very much takes in and understands what everyone says. Especially you, he’s one of the best to come to with your problems. Roostre is the best at helping you out, or even just listening if that’s what you need.

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (12)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

People are taking notice. This is good, just... don't allow suspicion to linger for too long...

Reader is Gender Neutral!

It was the next morning.

After your little ‘Dress to Impress’ situation with Signora, you grabbed lots of blankets and extra mattresses for the Harbingers. Originally, you planned for all of them to sleep in the living room and dining room as it was the biggest and the furthest space away from you. However, all the girls complained about this and managed to persuade you to let them stay in the guest bedroom instead.

So there you were, moving half of the mattresses and blankets into the guest bedroom for them, not a single shred of help given to you. You’re not sure how they’re going to decide who gets the bed, but honestly, you don’t want to imagine the petty chaos that will ensue because of it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to have the girls close to you, after all, you can hear all their arguments through the walls quite clearly…

Anyway,

After that you used the rest of your noodles for yourself and forced the harbingers to eat boiled vegetables. You’re not evil, it’s just the only other thing you could cook without guaranteeing the house would catch on fire. Also, it might have been the only thing left in the freezer.

And off to bed everyone went after dinner. They didn’t say thank you, of course. However silence is better than having to figure out how to piece your sofa back together like a lego house. As of now, you’re downstairs and suffering through an onslaught of Childe’s complaining.

“When’s breakfast?” Childe whined, laying on the sofa with his patched up injuries still healing.

“Never, until you and the others get a job to financially support the house.” You replied, leaning back on the armchair and watching the news. It wasn’t anything interesting unlike yesterday, with the notice of you being missing being the conversation of the day. Today, it was reporting on the increasing average climate temperature. Ah yes, another problem. But luckily, that’s something out of your control right now.

“But it huuuurts! You can’t expect me to walk around the city limping.”

“Yes, but that won’t stop you from using the Internet, will it?”

“I have no idea what that is.”

Maybe this is a good thing. Letting the harbingers go on the Internet without any control or restrictions could possibly not just end you, but also the entire world. At that point, if you let it happen, humanity’s biggest problem wouldn’t be climate change anymore.

“It is decided.” Sandrone gleefully spoke with an excited voice, walking through the front door and entering the living room. “I’m officially working as an engineer in a garage not too far away. Oh, this is simply splendid news!”

“Sandrone, I thought we agreed you weren’t going to work due to you looking too young?” You questioned her with an exasperated sigh, already expecting this outcome.

“We never agreed on such a thing.” She scoffed at your unenthusiastic reply. “The Rooster and I discussed my wishes to learn the field of mechanics of this world. We decided it would be best if I visited the mechanic’s garage we passed by when we were walking to that weird food place we found you in. When I walked inside and inquired about a position, they instantly said yes! Ahh, it seems even in this world humans can detect true talent.”

“Or, get this, they were suffering from this city lacking engineer’s to hire. From the sounds of it, they were desperate to employ just about anyone.” You fired back, voice plain.

“Don’t be so conceited. They specifically asked for my skills. And, after I talked about my puppets and robots, they were instantly intrigued and brought me aboard!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Good for you, or whatever.” You turned back to the television, not giving her anymore attention.

“Well, I believe it is a wonderful thing.” Pulcinella walked into the room, sitting on the sofa with Childe, his back to Childe’s shins.

“At least someone’s got a job. Did anyone else actually try to find one this morning?” You groaned.

“A woman approached me with a business card, something about ‘fitting the vibe’ with a new fashion collection she was working on and offered for me to be a part of it. What did that mean?” Arlecchino spoke up, passing you the business card she mentioned.

Looking closer at it, you could tell it was a relatively new business. One owned by someone just a few years older than you maybe. Honestly, it actually looks really cool. Maybe you’ll check out the website link on the back of the card later.

“She’s asking you to become a model for a fashion branch she’s designing.” You explained, passing the card back.

“Modelling? Hm, looks like I’ll have to find something somewhere else.”

“You don’t want to be a model?” You questioned her.

“I’m used to working in the shadows, I dislike public attention when I work. Becoming a model would be unlike me.” She sighed disappointedly.

“I say you do it, Knave.” Columbina cheered for her. “If you don’t like it, you could always kill her and erase all footage from her Kamera.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“I suppose that could be a possible outcome.” Arlecchino thought to herself, ignoring you.

“Okay, please don’t think about it if that’s what you’re going to do if you don’t like it! Be normal and just quit the job, and read your contracts!” You exclaimed in horror.

“Very well, I’ll contact her later today.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” You turned to her.

“I thought I’d ask you to help me.”

Of course she’d expect that. Children, all the Harbingers are basically children high on drugs in wonderland not knowing what to do or how to do it. Just what would they do without you? It’s no wonder despite kidnapping you they give you a lot of freedom. You’re surprised they haven’t tied you up and left you to rot in your own boredom actually. You often wonder why they haven’t done that, it’s very clear they get more and more annoyed the more time you spend with them.

“Childe, the second you heal I’m kicking you out of the house until you find a job.” You announced, Childe whining as a reply.

“Why are you so harsh with me!? I’m one of the nicest guys here!”

“Because some of the others actually took the initiative to go out and find a job today which I’m pleasantly surprised at. It could have turned out a lot worse, but luckily it didn’t. Therefore, I really don’t care.”

“Decider!! You’re so mean!”

“Why do I hear Childe screaming a lot more than usual this morning?” Pierro yawned, entering the room with hazy and cloudy eyes.

“The Decider wants him to get a job.” Scaramouche bluntly stated, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. 

“Oh, as if you have room to talk. You didn’t even try to get a job this morning. You didn’t even leave the house to pretend to try!” You argued with him.

“There is no way, in any stage of care I could possibly and deniably have for you, am I working to support people I don’t even like.”

“You’re doing it to support yourself!”

“I don’t even need to eat, silly mortal.” He snickered at your flabbergasted face, struggling to keep up and monopolise him.

“Hmph, if the heartless crude doesn’t wish to work, don’t force him.” Sandrone scoffed in his direction, fiddling with the TV remote in her hands, observing which button does what.

“As I have decided and discovered a place to work, allow me to earn as much money as you need. I can guarantee you, I’ll be much more helpful than this…” She struggled to find the word.

“...thing.”

“Excuse me??” Scaramouche couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his head snapping towards her direction as fast as the speed of light.

“It truly is shameful, to take and not give in return.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Dottore grinned, entering the room alongside Pantalone and shutting the living room door.

“It doesn’t matter what any of you morons say. I’m not getting a job, meaning stop bothering me with blather I’m ignoring. You’re wasting your own time.” Scaramouche scoffed, turning away dramatically and walking in the direction of the dining room going to do something that you couldn’t even attempt to guess.

“...I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t try it, you’re thinking of what we’ve wanted to do for years. His usefulness is the only thing keeping him alive now.” Pierro sighed, a hand on his head trying to soothe his incoming headache.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

You were back in your bedroom, trying to communicate with the Traveler on the other side again. Alas, he still wasn’t replying in your favour. His blank look was still displayed on his face. Maybe you should stop for a while and give it time, continuously trying seems to be wearing you out more than the Harbingers themselves. Either that, or you’re getting really angry now. …What are you saying!? Nothing will wear you down more than the presence of the Harbingers, never forget what they did and what they could do to you. Even if they’re acting nicely towards you, it doesn’t change how they treat and have treated others. Never forget it, ever.

Speaking of never forgetting, now that you have the time, you should do something about all this merch.

You walked up to your desk, eyeing the different figures and occasional sticker littering your desk. You made quick work of scratching the stickers off, ripping them to shreds and violently throwing them in your bin. You looked at the Arlecchino and Scaramouche figures standing next to each other on the back shelf of your desk, you grabbed them and stared at them, admiring every detail made by the artist.

Such a shame. It’s funny how just last week you were excited that you could potentially buy all the figures and line them up on your desk. Unfortunately, you’ll never be able to see these characters the same ever again. Especially fucking Scaramouche.

You shook your head after a short while of staring, choosing to shove the figures under your bed instead of smashing them like you wished you could with the real people. You’ll try and resell them later for money to support yourself once this is all over.

Anyway, at least now your desk is clear. You can’t remember the last time you saw it bear with only your computer on it. Next, you should get rid of all the genshin plush toy’s on your bed and above your wardrobe. Starting with the massive Childe whale laid out across your mattress. Ugh, but you actually like this one! Without the genshin context, it would just be a cute whale! Should you just shove this one under your bed too? And what about–

“You’ll never guess what I did!” Childe burst through your door, a very excited expression on his face.

“Childe!? What are you doing?? GET OUT!” You shrieked, standing up and running to cover your computer screen before he could see it.

“Okay, so, you know how you told me to go out and find a job when I got better?” He began explaining, ignoring your complaining with a mocking tilt to his head.

“Yes, but get out! We can talk outside of my room!” You quickly ran forward, pushing him away from the door frame and out of the room with haste.

“You don’t even have anything interesting. Just looked like a basic bedroom to me…” He pouted playfully, his eyes narrowing at the door you slammed behind you after you successfully removed him from your bedroom.

“Right. What were you telling me about you looking for a job?” You sighed, not wanting to discuss your bedroom any further.

“Okay. So, I was out looking for a job, yeah? I was struggling and felt really angry, but then I passed by a building with boxers punching and training! I went in and asked if I could try it, and they immediately asked if I could join their gym after I did! Pretty amazing, right?” He hummed, grinning widely.

“...You have to pay to join a gym.” You countered him, a confused expression.

“That’s what I thought too! But, the manager of the place was coincidentally having a meeting with a man looking to sponsor an upcoming athlete. When he saw me, he offered a sponsorship to me. So now I get paid to train in the gym everyday!”

“That’s… um.. You know what? If it’s what you want to do and it pays well, go for it or whatever. Just warning you, sponsored athlete’s training is very harsh and time consuming. You don’t get to eat what you like and have spare time to yourself. You’ll have barely any time to yourself in the house. Not to mention–”

“That I can’t quit until my first fight? Yeah, I know that!”

“Alright fine then. Just… don’t kill anyone.” You gave him a suspicious glance, turning around and opening the door slightly to squeeze through without him seeing your bedroom.

“See you la–”

“Decider, could we have a look at the modelling place now? Pierro has given his permission for us to head outside and find the shop.” Arlecchino walked up the stairs, stopping after seeing the awkward placement of yours and Childe’s conversation.

“I CAN’T CATCH A BREAK I HATE MY LIFE!”

“What are they talking about?” She whispered to Childe, the ginger shrugging as a response.

“Dunno. They’ve been more annoyed than usual today, kind of reminds me of my mother when Tonia steals her clothes and goes outside to make them dirty on purpose.”

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... …

You can’t believe this. The Harbinger’s are actually letting you go outside without the worry of you escaping? Okay, you suppose you are essentially tied to Arlecchino right now due to her grabbing your wrist with an iron hold, but it’s better than nothing!

Your visible appearance must have been one to laugh at. You were wearing an oversized jumper and three of your mothers scarves which were so long they were almost touching the ground, even with the three wrapped around your neck twice. Thank goodness it’s cold today, if it wasn’t, you would be getting even weirder looks than you already are now. You sighed, your breath sticking to you thanks to the blue covid mask wrapped around your face under the bundle of scarves.

“You went overboard, you know?” You turned to her with unimpressed eyes, Arlecchino’s head still looking forwards in attention, ready for any potential surprise attacks like a true soldier.

“No, I say we didn’t cover you enough.” She replied with a rich voice. “I insisted we add a hat to cover your head, but Pulcinella couldn’t stand the fact you’d be sweating with it on.”

“Thank you…” You did a small imaginary salute to Pulcinella. “I would have cried if I had to wear any more clothes. I can already feel my skin soaking wet.”

“That’s repulsive.” She commented.

The two of you crossed the street, heading towards the shopping centre in the middle of your city. When following the link on the business card Arlecchino was given, Google Maps led you to the main shopping centre in town. Seeing this was a beautiful opportunity to see if you could find anybody you recognised to get help, you gladly accepted her request for you to guide her towards the shop she needed to get to.

You walked in, following after the silver haired woman with anxious steps. She stopped, seeing a map of the building and pointing at the words, trying her best to try and read them. With a frustrated sigh, she turned to look at your smug expression, watching her try and fail to understand the map.

“The place you’re looking for is that one.” You walked up to the board, pointing to the name of the clothes shop she was looking for.

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, trying to conceal her annoyment with a screwed up face.

The two of you then began walking through the shopping centre, yourself occasionally glancing at the confectionary shops smelling like heaven. You were tempted to drag her in, to have a look at the delicious delicacies wrapped in colours and dream of having them, but you decided against it considering her gaze darkened every time you yanked her towards a window.

“You are such a child.” She commented, breaking her silence to mock you. “Pulcinella tells us of your childish behaviour and resorts to disobey, witnessing it first hand at first was entertaining, but now it’s becoming frustrating.”

“I tend to have that effect on people.” You replied, struggling to hold your tongue with a grin. Technically you’re safe right now. There’s too many people around here for her to try anything if you annoy her too much. Sure, she would take out the majority, but there will be some who could run away unscathed in time to call the authorities.

Well, that’s what you would have done if you were 100% sure she came alone with you in the first place. Not only that, but you don’t want to get other people stuck in this situation with you. It’s kind of crazy how traumatic situations like this will either bring out the best or worst in people. In your case, you luckily responded in the former way. To think a couple days ago you were a selfish angsty hermit who never left their room unless your parents called for it.

Arlecchino isn’t stupid, you know she’s the Fourth Harbinger for a reason. She’s intelligent, patient, and excellent at hiding her true feelings if she needs to be careful. A terrifying analyser, and one you should probably stay neutral around when you’re alone with her. If she’s not as arrogant as you think she is, you’re guessing she asked one or two Harbingers to spy on the two of you from afar. It’s a shame you’re not as perceptive as the others, maybe then you’d actually stand a chance.

“Hey,” You felt a hypnotising click in front of your eyes, focusing on the mutated fingers with red nails very close to your eyes.

You came back to reality, finding the silver woman bent over slightly clicking you back. “I would advise you to pay attention and listen to me from here on. I cannot have my guide slacking and leading us in the wrong direction.” She coldly stated, slipping on a pair of gloves you advised her to wear before leaving the house.

“Right.” You coughed, avoiding her mesmerising eyes with a dramatic step back and a light flush on your cheeks. What in her right mind made her think getting that close to you was a good idea!? Is she trying to kill you, and embarrass herself in public??

The two of you walked in silence after that, the happy families and couples you walked by contrasting the tension between the two of you. Thankfully, the shop wasn’t too much further. If you had to walk anymore in that suffering silence, you think you would have charged through one of the shop’s glass windows. The two of you had successfully reached the shop in question and found the woman who scouted Arlecchino inside. You saw her brooming the floor through the glass windows.

“Sooo…” You awkwardly turned to her. “I’m presuming that’s the woman who gave you the business card?”

“Yes. That’s her.” Arlecchino nodded, grabbing your wrist and walking inside with you being dragged behind her.

The shop was very gothic. There were many clothes both in and out of fashion, that seemed to be loved by the community who were browsing the shelves and hangers with bright smiles. Yeah, this is a good shop. It reminds you of one of those small online businesses that only a few people know of due to its rarely appreciated products. You can see Arlecchino fitting in somehow.

“Wow, wow, wow! You actually decided to come!” The woman exclaimed. “Please, do come in! I’ll be with you shortly, I just need to put this broom back.”

She seems… cheerful.

The excited woman ran up to the two of you, standing at the front door. She clasped Arlecchino’s gloved hands, and practically had stars in her eyes.

“If you’re here, I’m guessing you took my offer then? Oh! I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Aurora, but everyone calls me Rora since the name Aurora is quite posh, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s a beautiful na–” 

“Do you really!?” Rora beamed at you, interrupting your quiet voice with her louder brasher one. “I thought so too, until I realised it didn’t fit the brand in my shop.”

“Anyway…~” She laughed, interrupting herself. “We’ll have to see whether my vision does indeed match your style. Come with me, err, what was your name again?”

“My name is Arlecchi–” 

“Ahem!” You coughed, interrupting her with a side eye. You forgot to tell her she should use a different name for when she applies for the job. Fuck, that reminds you, you didn’t tell the other Harbinger’s who unexpectedly went out to find a job on their own to give fake names either!

She seemed to get the hint, closing her eyes then opening them again. “My name is Arlette, it’s nice to formally meet you once more.”

“Sure, sure! The pleasure is all mine, or something like that. Now come on, I’ll have you model some styles I put together to see if they’re good enough to go on my website.”

“Website?” Arlecchino mimicked, turning to you with a raised eyebrow.

“It means if she likes the way you look, you not only get the job but you get paid for the work you’re going to do today. That’s what it seems like anyway, she seems nice.” You shrugged in reply.

“‘Seems nice’?” She gasped jokingly. “I am nice! We’ll show you, you just wait there and we’ll come out looking fabulous!”

“Yes, wait there. It would be a foreseen shame if you exited this shop without a second pair of eyes on you.” Arlecchino hinted, before turning around and following the woman behind the till and through the staff door.

Well, that confirms your suspicions. She did get a couple other Harbingers to trail the two of you to the shopping centre. How frustrating of her. 

What’s even more frustrating is how Rora didn’t realise your appearance is unnatural! Come on, girl, even though it’s cold it’s not normal to wear this many layers inside a shopping centre! Oh well, maybe you could turn to the other customers in the shop?

You looked behind one of the shelves covered in t-shirts, peering through the gap to see two other girls laughing at a video on their phones. Would now be a good chance? But you’re being watched. Maybe you should test the waters first by having a normal conversation.

Yeah. That’s a good idea. Now, if your legs could just move and guide you to where you want to go that would be great. It would be a bit weird if you called out to them when you’re in an enclosed space together. Huh? Why is the ground shaking? You feel like you’re about to collapse to your knees, where did your strength go? Your eyes widened in realisation when you realised what was happening.

You can’t do it. Your legs won’t move, they’re shaking as if they’re trying to move, but can’t for some invisible wall. You can’t seem to get your voice to work either, it feels as if it’s wrapped itself inside your throat like a coil. Come on, just move! Now’s the perfect chance to try and do something! Are you scared of the fact that a few other harbingers may be watching? Or is it something else?

You looked around the room quickly, feeling a sickly heat wave over your head. You couldn’t tell whether you were crying from disgust or fear. Why is it, when you just need to do something, does your body freeze like this? Is something wrong with you? Surely it isn’t normal to just freeze, when people are scared you usually see them run - not stand like a deer in headlights!

Realising how awkward and how hard it would be to explain yourself if someone saw you in this state, you went to a random corner of the shop and tried to calm yourself down.

“Helloooo?~” Rora called out, stepping out of the staff room with Arlecchino trailing behind her.

“Where areeee youuu? We’re finished, and I need a second opinion!”

You sighed, giving your eyes one more wipe then rubbing your hands as if you were drying them under a hand dryer.

“I’m here, just looking at this collection of… jeans.” You lied, not being able to keep your voice cheery, instead it came off as a dejected unnatural tone.

Walking over to the two after a deep breath, you saw Arlecchino dressed in an entirely different outfit than her usual one. She was wearing a clean white blouse with long sleeves, the blouse tucked in a pair of black jeans with a chain connecting her back pocket to a section on her belt. There was a tie wrapped around her collar, descending down and resting above her chest.

She stood tall, a blazer slung over her shoulder rather than around her body. Not going to lie, she looks amazing, and strangely sexy in a way… Her modelling a tomboy outfit like this reminds you of a fanart you saw once, which you definitely didn’t spam a certain copypasta on… ANYWAY—

Your point is she looks great, Rora really knows her stuff.

“Well?~ From your stunned expression, I can tell I really hit the mark with this one! It’s targeted for office girlies who want to dress differently, but still classy. Non-gender specific and of course, fab-ul-ous!” She stepped beside the harbinger leaning a certain way and spreading her hands out dramatically.

“What do you think, Arlette? Is it comfortable? Is there something you would change?”

Arlecchino looked down at herself, judging her appearance with lidded eyes. After a short pause, she nodded and looked back at the designer.

“I like it. It’s comfortable, and the stitching is beautiful. Sometimes the most basic of outfits can make the boldest statements.”

“Exactly! I knew you’d get me!” Rora cheered. “And my, my! It’s not everyday somebody notices my trademark stitching. You have perceptive eyes!”

“Trademark? Does that mean you sew all these clothes yourself?” You gaped, not believing a word you’re hearing.

“Mhmm. I hate the idea of allowing a machine to create my clothes for me. I want to spread my passion and ideas sustainably, not mass-produce them in a factory without a care in the world. The idea makes my heart wrench!” She comedically weeped.

“Actually… To be fair, that’s actually why a lot of the shelves are still empty. Turns out managing a shop in a busy shopping centre like this takes a lot of work - especially when it’s just you. A lot of the time, when something is bought out it takes me months to refill the aisle back to how it once was. It’s difficult… but, I love it.”

“Wow…” You felt your eyes glistening. “Environmentally aware and sustainable? Rora, I might be your newest biggest fan! I’ll be honest, I thought you were just a massive Pinterest fan.”

“Ahah! I get that a lot!” She giggled into her hand.

“You wouldn’t happen to do custom designs, would you?”

“I haven’t thought about it. Buuuut, considering I’m running a little bit low on funds, I would love the idea if you had something in mind?” She thought to herself, encouraging the thought.

“Sorry, but it’ll have to be another day. My funds aren’t the best either at the moment. I’ll definitely keep the thought there though, if you’ll do the same?”

“Of course!” She gave a thumbs up. “Anyway… Whaddya think? You’ve had a look at one of my simpler designs, and I think you fit the image I had in mind perfectly! Your friend seems to agree also!”

Arlecchino stared at you for a few seconds before brushing a strand of hair out of her face and looking away.

“I’ll take the job.”

“Yippee! Welcome aboard, Arlette!” Rora jumped up and down, unable to control her excitement. Everybody else in the shop awkwardly applauded after being spooked by the sudden noise, not looking surprised in the slightest. It seems Rora getting excited is a usual occurrence…

“Alright-y then! Hmm, let’s see… we’ll discuss contracts and serious stuff tomorrow when you come in for your first official day… for now I guess I can ask whether you’d be okay with restocking shelves and helping me manage the till?”

“Hm? I thought I was simply modelling?” Arlecchino wondered out loud. “It is not a problem, I thought it would just be my image that’s being used.”

“You see, having someone monitoring the shop would give me more time to work on clothes and research. It could possibly get the shop running smoother and make business quicker.” She clicked her fingers.

“And besides, you seem like the thorough type. If someone tried to steal from the shop, I know you would chase them down instantly!”

Pfft, yeah, you can see her doing that alright.

“I appreciate the honest thoughts.” Arlecchino nodded appreciatively. “Would I be paid a higher amount?”

“Why, of course! I can see your added efforts would boost productivity which in turn could increase products being bought. When that increases, I’ll be sure to pay you more.”

“Then I see no issue with our arrangement.” She sighed, eyes shutting harshly when hearing Rora squeal in excitement again.

Oh dear, this is going to be a long day.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... …

“Aaaaand that’s a wrap! Thank you so much for this!” Rora clapped, thanking Arlecchino with a thumbs up and a cheer.

“That was… suspiciously easy.” Arlecchino mumbled her thoughts. “Your Kamera equipment took less than a minute to set up.”

“Well, yeah, duh? Hey, is your friend always like this?” Rora turned to you.

“Something like that…” You coughed into your hand, avoiding eye contact. “Anyway we should be heading out, it’s getting late and I’m hungry.”

“Before you go!” Rora ran behind the till, scrambling to pick up a few notes before running back to the two of you and handing them out. “Here, I’d be a bad boss if I didn’t pay you fairly for today’s work. We got around 12 outfits for my website, so this amount should be alright. Do you have any complaints?”

Any complaints… ANY COMPLAINTS!? She’s given her way too much, no wonder she’s having some financial troubles! Buuut, you are in need of some money… Okaaay, you’ll be a bit greedy and let it slide this time. But when Arlecchino’s next pay-day comes around you’ll definitely say something to protect Rora’s business - being too kind might be her downfall. If only you knew how right you were in saying that.

Arlecchino looked to you, clueless with the money she gratefully took from her new boss. You nodded, smiling as normally as you could, eyeing her as she folded it and stuffed the notes in her pocket.

“I will see you tomorrow.” Arlecchino waved slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the shop with her.

“Wai– Arlecc– I mean, Arlette, let me say goodbye too!” You struggled to speak, fumbling due to being lurched forward to match her strides.

“Bye Rora!”

She simply waved back, a gentle smile on her face as she eyed the two of you leaving her shop like a herd of elephants. Her smile dropped, her arm going back down to her side as she turned to the other customers in the shop.

“Ladies, you wouldn’t have happened to feel… something wrong there, would you?”

The two girls looked at each other, one looking clueless whilst the other nodded, agreeing without words.

“I didn’t see anything, they just looked like two normal people to me.”

“No, there was a threat of intimidation with your new worker.” The other thought out loud. “It’s hard to explain, but I get what you mean by feeling something wrong. The person with her looked like they were about to burst into tears at one point - hell, they were wandering around the store aimlessly when they weren’t at her side.”

“Huh? But if something was wrong, why wouldn’t they have just… I don’t know, passed us a note if they couldn’t say anything?”

“No. I don’t think they could.” Rora interrupted her. “Did the two of you hear their name, by chance? It’s almost as if Arlette was making sure that question wouldn’t come up, when she was talking the conversation always felt controlled.”

“Okay, even I don’t know what you’re referring to here.” The intelligent girl with the headband said. “If anything, Arlette didn’t speak very much. It was almost as if she was clueless about the whole thing, maybe that’s why she brought her friend?”

“Hmm… Wait, we really didn’t hear her friend’s name! I wonder why they didn’t introduce themself. Oh, speaking of suspicions… Now that I’m thinking about it, did anyone find it weird how they were wrapped head to toe in scarves and coats? They must have been boiling, I don’t think they would have chosen to leave the house like that…”

“That’s true. In fact, now that I’m thinking about their appearance also, I don’t think I could mention a single unique characteristic of theirs at all. If they ever entered the shop without all the coats and scarves, I don’t think I’d be able to recognise them unless they spoke.”

“I’m going to find out everything when Arlette returns tomorrow.” Rora looked determined, turning around back to the till. “Something just doesn’t feel right. I’m sure it’s nothing, and we’re just looking too deep into things, but I think it would be wise to ask more personal questions tomorrow.” 

“Good idea.” The girl in the headband agreed. “Would you like me to also be there tomorrow? There’s strength in numbers.”

“Yes please.” Rora’s face turned serious. “I could use all the help I can get right now. Say, ‘Lils’, you coming in tomorrow too?”

“Of course, girlhood is girlhood after all! We have to stay toge–” She flinched, running up to the window without warning and looked around. She looked back to the other two giving her a suspicious look. “Sorry, I thought I felt something weird. Must be all the creepy talk.”

“...Damn it, Knave. It hasn’t been a day and you’re already garnering suspicion.” Scaramouche whispered to himself in frustration, looking through the window carefully once the girl turned her head.

He sighed, moving away from the window to tail both you and Arlecchino. It seems his presence was needed here after all, the Knave didn’t warn him wrong. He has to give her credit, unlike some of the morons he’s been forced to come here with, everything she planned has indeed come true. He thought this outing would be useless, that it was a waste of time, but it ended up being useful and that’s all he could care about. What to do about those three though? It would be far too dangerous to let them live, especially considering they were onto her. What’s more important to him is this sudden interest in The Decider. In his opinion, they’re becoming far too curious. He would rather them stay entirely clueless.

“Hey, Arlecchino? Now that you’ve been paid… could we plea–”

“No.” She cut you off, placing her hand over her pocket so you couldn’t snatch the money inside. “We are not buying stupid things, we finally have money that you’ve been complaining for. I will not let you waste it.”

“But… But it’s a tradition I have!” You complained.

“Tradition?” She raised her eyebrow, not looking impressed.

“Yeah!! Whenever my mother and I come to the shopping centre, we always stop by a chocolate shop and treat ourselves.”

“What a stupid tradition.” She muttered under her breath.

“Come on, pleeeaaaseee? You’re a ‘Father’, you should know when to treat your children!” You tried to convince her, trying to use puppy eyes with your hands clasped together.

“Don’t try to convince your perfectly fine brain with your own stupidities.” She glared at you. “You are not a child of mine, and you never will be, so end that thought whilst it’s still alive.”

The two of you walked in silence after that, the occasional puppy eyes from you and a heightened glare in return from her. Scaramouche looked on from behind incredulously, mouth threatening to gape open in disbelief. Is he seeing this right, the Knave is tolerating your begging? Not to mention, her facade is definitely dropping. He can’t remember the last time he saw her like this without lashing out in a violent rage.

Before long, the two three of you found yourselves at the front of a shop. You stopped, looking up at her confused, until you realised which shop she stopped the two of you at.

“Arle— You didn’t!” You beamed at her in excitement. No way, she remembered which shop you were looking at the longest on your way to Rora’s shop!? So, she really did care about what you were thinking earlier!

“Pick what you want, and get something for myself also. I am trusting you to get something cheap and delectable, if I dislike what you give me I’ll tell the others not to consider letting you out of the house ever again.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You ran up to her, wrapping your arms around her tense body. You hugged her tight, smiling widely before letting go and grabbing her hand.

“I’m going to give you a tour of the entire shop so you can make your choice, trust me, you have an expert over here!”

“Ah…” Arlecchino looked away for a moment, the only evidence of her mood being her eyes shining more than usual. “Alright.” She nodded, a twinge of embarrassment showing.

Scaramouche felt his jaw drop, his incredulous expression from before leaking out in the shop like incense. Is he… Is he seeing this right?

Hoh, this will be interesting…

Helloooo! Nice to see everyone before another 6 months have passed. I'm hoping to be more consistent now that studies have become less important for this next year. Still important but my procrastination to do other things has no limit.

Just because I said I feel more motivated to get out of bed every morning in my Christmas message doesn't mean I've changed as a person lol

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll @vvzhyxx @averycuriousperson @starlaisopaque @liyuedragonmorax @lovelive-animequeen1029 @mayythammyy @eirly-morning-tea @rainejiang

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[starboundpix]

ii. (love is) a greeting

it turns out the shiny metal scarecrow-esque thing is not a scarecrow and is most definitely offended. he's here to stay, though, so there's plenty of time to make up for that first impression.

daycare attendant x reader ✧ 1.8k words farm au, gender neutral reader, reader is a farmer, reader has a pet dog, hints of dca not being treated well in the past

note: a sun-centric part that has somehow grown into nearly 2k words >u< I promise moon will get his time to shine! (heh)

The crowing of your rooster wakes you up, blinking blearily and squinting at the rays of sunlight streaming through your curtains. You slowly sit up, shoulders and arms aching terribly, but you must get going with your day. There are always things to do on a farm.

After changing out of your pajamas, you exit your bedroom, only to nearly trip over Pluto. “Hey!” He whines and whimpers, circling frantically around your legs, barely giving you any room to move. Your eyebrows furrow and you kneel down, letting him put his paws on your legs as you gently grab his head, looking into his mismatched eyes of hazel and blue. 

“What’s wrong, buddy?” His ears are soft as you stroke his head. Pluto slightly relaxes under your touch, but the little noises he makes do not subside. 

Suddenly, he pulls his head back and takes little shuffling steps toward the stairs, eyes watching you all the while. You have owned your dog for many years now and know that Pluto will not act this way without good reason. Something uncomfortable stirs in your gut, but you follow your dog as he leads the way down the stairs to the back door of your house. Pluto’s whines increase in volume as you wrap your hand around the handle so you pause to stroke his head.

Whatever is out there—whatever is making Pluto so worried—better watch out. You know your dog will protect you with all of his might and you will fight tooth and nail to make sure he is safe.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door–

–and are greeted with brilliant blue eyes and a giant smiling face of gold and yellow.

“New friend! I am pleased to-”

“Oh what the hell?” The words fly out of your mouth in a shriek and you whirl back inside toward the safety of your home, pulling the door shut behind you. 

Over the blood rushing through your ears as your heart pumps furiously in your chest, you hear muttering through the door. “That was quite rude! I don’t think my greeting warrants a response like that.” A pause. Then, “Perhaps that’s not unexpected for people who live in the middle of nowhere.”

Your mouth falls open in outrage. With this cocktail of shock and anger rushing through your veins, you push open the door again, this time stepping completely through to shut it behind you. “I was startled, thank you very much,” you spit out. 

A warm presence presses into your thigh. The reminder of Pluto being by your side is enough to calm your nerves a bit, enough to make you realize that this- this being—a… scarecrow? Your scarecrow!—does have a point. Just the tiniest bit. Taking a deep breath, you shut your eyes and reopen them to look what you once thought was your scarecrow in the eyes.

“Sorry,” you say. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be at my door, least of all the scarecrow I set up in my garden yesterday.”

The not-a-scarecrow raises his hand to his mouth, which turns round in outrage. “A scarecrow? Scarecrow? I will have you know that we- I am a top of the line farm helper animatronic!”

You blink up at him. “So, um.” You were not prepared for anything like this at all. “So you’re a, uh, robot?”

“A robot?” he screeches, making you wince. The rays around his head shift in agitation. “I am an animatronic. A farm helper animatronic, unit ID 1987!” His teeth show in a smile, though you feel that he is anything but happy.

Hearing those words, you think of the booklet that arrived with his crate. Your aunt must have chosen the sun themed animatronic for you, and he certainly is no mere scarecrow. He’s sentient. He has a personality. A very unique one, at that. He seems a little prickly, although to be fair, you did sort of insult him multiple times in the span of five minutes. Not your best first impression. 

The thought of this animatronic being a new companion around the farm makes you a little excited. It has been a while since someone who could actually communicate with words—not with barks or clucks or bleats—has been on your farm for more than a few hours. Not to mention, this is the first time you’ve encountered such an advanced animatronic.

Slowly, your lips curl up in a smile, a warmth rising to your face the first time since you’ve exited your home. “Got it! Hey, I’m truly sorry about my initial reaction. I mentioned to my aunt in passing that I really needed a scarecrow for my garden, so when I got a package from her, that’s what I thought you were.” Wringing your hands together, your expression turns sheepish. “I probably should’ve read the manual from front to back. I definitely wasn’t expecting someone uh, y’know, alive and at my door today. Your presence was a surprise, but it’ll be nice to have some help around the farm. So anyway,” You share your name, holding your hand out for him to shake. “I’m the owner here. Welcome to Monarch Skies Farm.”

The animatronic’s sky blue eyes break contact with yours and he looks down at your outstretched hand. There was a stiff smile plastered on his face the entire time you were talking, but now his faceplates shift so minutely that you barely catch the slight widening of his eyes. After a long pause, he stretches out a yellow and vine-etched arm, long fingers sliding against your palm. You don’t expect them to be this warm. It takes another moment before those fingers tighten around yours, and suddenly your arm is being pumped up and down with enough force to shake your entire body. Pluto starts barking in protest.

“Lovely to meet you, it’s great to meet you! I’ve never met someone quite like you before. Monarch Skies Farm is a beautiful name and there must be lots to do, oh yes. What should be done first today?” He finally lets go of your hand and pulls back a bit, much to your relief; although his hand was warm and comfortable, he’s still pretty much a stranger to you, and all that metal leaning into your personal space is not the best feeling. It feels like he isn't as peeved as he was before, but the hint of snark in his comments shows that he hasn't forgotten your reaction to him. Holding his hands behind his back, he rocks from heel to toe as he awaits your answer, head tilted to the right.

You settle your hand on Pluto’s head to calm him down. “There’s a lot to do today. But first, do you- uh, do you want me to call you by your ID? It was 1987, right? Or is there another name you go by?”

The animatronic stops moving completely. You blink up at him, watching as he seems to stare beyond you while he thinks, motionless. A long moment later, his faceplate rotates upright so he’s looking directly at you. “Oh, no, not the dreadful ID. It lacks a bit of everything, don’t you think? The little ones called me Sun, and that’s a much brighter name!” He winks at you, one bright blue eye vanishing under a golden eyelid.

Your eyes widen. “You really go by Sun? That’s what I named you when I- well, when I thought you were a scarecrow. All the bright gold and yellow and the rays around your face,”—you gesture at him—“made me think of the sun.” Curious, and also a little desperate to move on to avoid his piercing and unreadable gaze, you ask, “Were the children who called you that from your previous farm? What was the farm like?”

Sun takes a moment to respond. There is a strange tone to his voice when he says, “Yes, the little ones from my previous farm gave me this name. They are such wonderful children!”

“O-okay.” He obviously avoids answering your question about his old farm, but you don’t want to press too hard, especially when you’re just getting to know him. Clapping your hands together, you move on. “I’m not sure how the previous farms you were at did things, but I think I should first show you your room. After that, I can give you a tour of the farm. How does that sound?”

You can’t quite determine what he is thinking from the expression on his face, but Sun gives you a shallow nod so you open the door to your home. “Come on in!” Turning away from him, you enter your home with Pluto walking beside you.

You miss the sight of Sun’s fingers twitching, a stiff smile on his face with blue unblinking eyes, his faceplate rotating a few degrees. He hesitates before finally following your retreating figure into your house.

Sun runs a finger along the top of the dresser in the guest bedroom, revealing a streak of dark brown wood under the layer of dust that had gathered on the surface over time. You were telling the truth; this guest bedroom really has not been used in a while. 

Now this bedroom is his. His!

“This place could use a good cleaning,” he says to himself, rubbing his fingers together so the dust they had picked up floats back onto the dresser. His hands rest on his hips as he turns in a slow circle, taking in the room.

It’s a decent size for a regular human, he thinks. Cozy, with warm earthy colors and extra cushions on the armchair and bed. Small trinkets decorate the dresser and bedside desk in a way that personalizes the space yet is not too cluttered.

Useless. Moon pushes the thought to Sun.

 “W-well,” Sun says, “we may not sleep like a regular human but it can be nice to lay down while charging! At any rate, this is much better than the horse stall.”

Still dirty.

Sun can’t really dispute Moon on that. The urge to find some cleaning supplies and wipe down every surface in this- their room is strong, but Sun remembers that you are waiting to show him around the farm and get started with your tasks for the day. Perhaps he’ll ask you after finishing the tasks, if it isn’t too much of a bother. You’ve proven yourself to be rather nice despite your initial reaction to him at your back door this morning. But-

Be careful.

“Yes, yes, I know. Can’t trust adult humans too easily; they’re not like the children!” Despite saying this, a small spark of hope travels through Sun’s wires against the disapproval he can feel from Moon. He exits his bedroom with a bounce returning to his step, heading to where you wait for him by the front door. 

Perhaps, as Sun sees more of the farm and gets to know you, he and Moon will grow to like Monarch Skies Farm. He tries to squash the doubt that Moon sends his way.

note: and there we go! we've discovered that sun will now be a resident of the farm! as for moon? he remains to be seen. literally. >.< thank you so so much for reading! i'd love to hear your thoughts c:

series masterlist ✧ part one ✧ part three

[staplegrapes]

Bust a Move (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader)

Description: Omaha convinces the squad to go line dancing. For as much as you enjoy dancing by yourself, you can't seem to peel yourself off the wall. You hope to be am invisible bystander, but that doesn't fly with Bradley Bradshaw.

Word Count: 2.6K

TW: None

A/N: It is implied the reader is either a pilot or WSO but it does not go into detail. No use of Y/N.

✨Gender Neutral Reader✨

When Omaha suggested line dancing after training today, you were fully convinced the pilot was joking. Never, once in your months of working with him, had he mentioned it before. Sure, he was from the Midwest, it made sense, but still. You would never have guessed that 5 hours later you would be watching Omaha absolute kill it on the dance floor.

You had heard of Dixon's Country Bar in passing. Even having never been through these doors before, the wooden floor, cowboy memorabilia on the walls and the dim lights didn't surprise you one bit. What surprised everyone is that it appeared Omaha was a regular here given the remarks thrown his way the moment your crew walked through the door.

"Neil! Good to see you bud!"

"Hey! Save some chicks for the rest of us!"

"These your pilot friends?"

When did this man have time? You wouldn't claim to know everything about him, but it feels like you should have known this. Makes you wonder what you don't know about the rest of the squad. But at least now you knew how well they danced.

Rooster, Payback and Fritz picked it up without any issues. You knew Rooster and Payback could dance, but there's a difference between just dancing and picking up choreography as fast as they currently are with no practice. Or maybe they did have practice? Were you the only one who didn't line dance on the weekends? Well, obviously not.

Harvard, Yale and Fanboy were doing their best to keep up with the other three. A little stumble here and there was pretty normal, but they were doing well enough you were slightly impressed. But if a dance had too many spins or was too fast, the three of them often excused themselves off the floor to grab another drink.

And then there was Bob.

Oh, Bob.

You could have predicted this, but Bob was... struggling. Despite both Phoenix and Halo attempting to help him out, it was a battle. He seemed to always get the hang of it by the end of the song, which seemed frustrating. You couldn't tell by his face though. He was having a blast and that is all that mattered.

Coyote was quite good at this as well. Early in the night his smooth moves were catching plenty of looks. Yet, you didn't see much of those moves later on. He was now on the sidelines cashing in on some of those looks, trying to "pick up some digits" as he would say. Same with Hangman, except he barely tried to dance, just flirt, as usual. You barely saw the man step foot on the dance floor unless it was to follow some girl.

Not that you could judge honestly. Your crew had already been here an hour and you had yet to even inch near the dance floor. And it seemed odd, since you've always liked dancing alone in your kitchen. The unfamiliar environment and your lack of knowledge of these dances created some sort of invisible glue between your shoulder blades and the wooden wall. You should have realized you were gonna be the stick in the mud tonight. You should have stayed home. But no one seemed to notice too much. They were all having a great time, so you continued to sip your drink and enjoy the show. So there you stand, homing all the drinks, past and present. That was to be your excuse if anyone were to ask.

Harvard downed his third beer as he headed back for the dance floor. You looked back down to your drink. It was slightly cooler than room temperature now. You weren't the designated driver, but you also just didn't feel like drinking here. If you were gonna dance, which you kept saying you were gonna do you weren't gonna be able to do it well, inebriated.

You weren’t having a bad time. Watching your colleagues drunkly dancing was quite amusing. Watching Bob have the time of his life was nothing short of joyful. Still, something was uneasy in your chest. You felt like a burden for not being able to leave the wall. Either way, you stayed and watched, breathing through the slight anxious feeling in your chest.

It was well into the night, despite this, Rooster was still wearing his sunglasses. He felt they added to his ensemble. It also made it easy to keep stealing glances of you from the side. Something about the way you were standing there was setting off alarms in his head. He could tell something was off. Not that you were one to cut loose often and be the center of attention, but you didn’t seem genuinely content in your spot. Maybe you weren't feeling well? Maybe something or someone made you uncomfortable? Maybe you were tired? Was training rough on you today? Whatever it was, he saw through the facade.

Between songs he decided to go check on you. Slapping Payback and Omaha on the shoulder as he passed by, he slips off the crowded floor. As the lights changed between songs, growing brighter, even with his aviators he was struggling to see you as he got closer.

You saw him making his way over. Oh boy, you knew he was gonna tease you about this. You just didn't have the same ability to let go and relax like he did. That's what you liked about him. You always worried your inability to do just that was what he didn't like about you. As he gets closer and out of the lights, he pulls his aviators off and hooks them onto the collar of his tank top.

"That wall heavy?" He asks in a raised voice as the next song begins to blare over the sound system.

"Huh?" You're not sure if you heard him right. He walks up next to you, not quite so close to the wall, but close enough to hear you over the crowded room.

"I mean, you're holding that wall up. It's a pretty big wall, with all that wood paneling..." He nods towards the wall.

"Oh shut up." you chuckle.

He smirks as he takes another sip of his drink that's been keeping you company at the table. Looking back to the dance floor as the song hits it first repeat, he turns back to you.

"So, what's the song?" He questions, looking down to you without dropping his head. His expression is one of pure intrigue. As if whatever the answer is, is something that he's been dying to ask you. Yet, you don't even know what he means.

"What song?"

"What song is gonna get you out there?" nodding towards the floor.

You shrug. "I dunno. I don't really know any of these, let alone the dances."

"You wanna hear a secret?" He whisper-yells (the softest he could possibly speak and you'd still hear him), leaning down to you. You tilt your head in his direction.

"Me neither." He smiles.

"Yet, somehow you're nailing all these dances?" You retort unconvinced giving him a playful smack on the side of his face which he attempts to block with a grin. He nods his head laughing.

"I wouldn't say I'm 'nailing' them all. Did you see me during that Watermelon one? I had no clue what was happening."

"You're telling me you've never done this before?" you press further.

"Well," he leans back against the wall, "not never, but it's been awhile." his silence is not enough for you and he catches your expectant look before shrugging and continuing. "I had a few friends college who'd go out line dancing once or twice a month. I tagged along occasionally. The songs are different now."

You hummed as your eyes wandered back towards the dancing. A few minutes of silence holds over the two of you.

"So what is it then? You're shy?" He looks down into his drink. You shrug, not knowing if he sees it or not, but silence would answer his question, so it is just as well.

"I dunno, Rooster. I just can't seem to peel myself off this wall."

"Well, is there room for two?" He leans closer to you in an endearing manner.

"No, Roos, go back, you don't have to stay up here with me."

"I've been dancing for an hour. I want a break."

"Suit yourself" you mumble into your drink.

"You want me to keep dancing when I claim to be exhausted? What if I pass out?"

"I'm sure someone will give you mouth to mouth." you smirk. He smiles turning back to face the crowds.

"I'm sure you would."

You blush. How was he so casual about throwing comments around like that? Your comment implied he was getting attention, nothing more you made sure of it. Did it not phase him that he just implied the two of you... Bradley Bradshaw. "You’ve been hanging with Hangman too long." you say, diverting your face away from his gaze as casually as possible.

He laughs. A full laugh. He has such a good laugh. It puts you at ease. For a moment, you're able to forget you're blushing at his comment and this feeling of overwhelming anxiety from this whole night. It's just you and him joking as usual.

You two stand there for awhile more. Some of the crew tries to pull Rooster back to the floor, but he just shakes his head. You can't stop the small feeling of joy when Rooster chooses to stay with you. Makes you feel your company cannot possibly be THAT bad.

"You dance though, don't you?" he questions

"Uh yeah, once in awhile. Why?"

"Your foot is tapping right now." he quips, his gaze dropping to your foot.

You freeze up, realizing he's right. He pushes himself off the wall with his shoulder to get a better look at you offering you a hand.

"Alright, you're gonna dance at least once. Deal?"

You wanted to say no just to avoid the situation. But the way he had come up to check on you, the way he's staying with you without actually making you feel guilty, you couldn't leave him hanging. You take his hand and shake it.

"Um, sure." You mumble. He smiles as he goes back to lean on the wall again.

"We'll wait for a good one." He notes with a wink as the two of you watch some girl reject Hangman for the third time that night. It was just not his night.

Your situation aside, you and Bradley were marveling over the fact there had yet to be one song Omaha didn't know. Every song he breezed through it like it was as easy as reciting the alphabet. The two of you could pick out the other regulars, but most of them had certain ones they were less familiar with. That was not the case with Neil "Omaha" Vikander. His consistency was popular with the crowd for sure. It was endlessly entertaining to see this new side of him.

"Alright, here it is." Bradley says, shaking you from your thoughts a few songs later. He grabs your (finally) empty glass placing it on the table along with his, grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the floor. In that moment you finally feel your shoulders leave their contact from the wall and it felt great, still your stomach was doing backflips in an anxious response. You would have likely felt more anxious if it had not been for Rooster's firm but comforting grip on your wrist as you two navigated the crowd. Eventually he found a spot near the back edge of the floor. No one would be trying to walk through there, or hopefully look back there. You were nervous enough as it was.

As you attempted to calm yourself, you realized you recognized the song.

"Footloose? Really?" You ask him, as the extended intro played. He beams at your familiarity with the song.

"Of course! It's a classic. One of my mom's favorites." You didn't miss how his smile lit up a little more when he mentioned his mom.

"Isn't this song fast?" You question.

"It's not that bad. It's pretty easy. Just follow me ok?" you nod as your eyes dark around the floor but Rooster slaps your arm lightly to grab your attention. "Don't worry about the people around us. They're doing their own thing.” And you then noticed how he had put you in the spot closest to the corner, that way you only had one person in front of you and him next to you. You appreciated the less pressure of this spot and he probably knew that. Before you could think too hard about it, the song started to pick up.

"You ready?" He smiles to you doing a few hops shaking out his shoulders.

"No clue." you shrug with a smile. No going back now.

And he was right. The dance itself really was not too hard to pick up. Were you a natural? Not in the slightest. Yet, you felt like you did much better than you had actually expected. Some of the moves weren't far from what you did in your kitchen. When you do mess up you look to Rooster who starts you talk you through it with a smile and a string of encouragements "There you go!", "That's it," "A natural, what did I tell ya?". It calmed you just enough to pick up the moves before the next verse. Every few moments when you were actually getting the moves, you'd dare to look over to Rooster who would be looking right back at you with a wide grin splitting his face. When the song ends you can't help but laugh looking back to him

"Hey, that was great." He raises his hand and you give him a high five. The two of you are just smiling at each other before you're interrupted.

"Aye, you finally made it down here!" Payback calls out, making his way over. "C'mon give it another song!" He does a little shimmy and you smile. Once you got out here it was easier, it was just that initial push off the wall. So that's what you did and yes, you were not good. But having Payback and Rooster beside you, it didn't feel like you were being a bother. Both of them were just glad you were on the floor. The whole squad, minus Coyote and Hangman who are still trying their best to not leave here alone tonight, migrated their way towards the three of you and it was a good time.

Eventually the night comes to an end as 2 AM hits the clock. The crew, including Coyote and Hangman, heads outside and after saying farewells heads in different directions. Of course, Bradley and you are the only two who are parked in the same direction. So you walk in a comfortable silence down the street.

"Thanks for helping me get out there tonight." you thank him after a few moments.

"I didn't do much. You just needed a push." He shrugs.

"Yeah, but if you hadn't, I wouldn't have had as much fun as I did."

He nods silently. A block passes by and he finally breaks his uncharacteristic silence just as your car comes into view.

"Hey, if you want to, we can always go again." he adds nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I kno..." but he cuts you off before you say any more.

"Just the two of us." he finishes.

You pause, processing what he just said.

"Figured maybe that would be less pressure." He shrugs, obviously trying to ease the tension his last phrase just created.

"I might have to take you up on that." You smile, having a hard time looking up from the ground the closer you get to your car, feeling his eyes are still on you.

"Hey," He calls and you know he's trying to get you to look at him, which you grant him that silent request.

"I hope you do." He tilts his head down in sincerity.

"Have a goodnight." He smiles and pats the side of your upper arm, as he spins around and heads back towards his Bronco.

"You too! You smile standing by your car.

He turns back as he continues walking.

"Already did." he chimes with a wink.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Every summer is gonna be a Top Gun summer from here on out.

[lilithslittleworld]

Masterlist <3 (By Fandom, character, and type)

Just a little reminder link to my character list and that requests are open!!

Twilight Saga:

Quileute Pack

Seth Clearwater:

Formal Crushing (fluff, oneshot)

Jacob Black:

New Moon if Edward had never come back (Chapters)

New To This (fluff, smut Jacob x Reader oneshot)

Cullens

Alice Cullen:

Our Little Secret (Alice x Bella smut)

Bella Swan/Cullen:

Our Little Secret (Bella x Alice smut)

Headcanons:

How Bella’s (and Alice’s) Graduation Party Actually Went (or should’ve gone): (headcanons)

Divergent Series:

Peter Hayes

All For You (smut, angst, some fluff. oneshot)

Jeanine Matthews

The Exception (fluff and angst oneshot)

Four/Tobias Eaton

Intruder (Four x reader smut, oneshot)

His Girl (Four x reader fluff, oneshot)

Character Headcanons:

How The Divergent Characters Would React To You Being Injured\In Pain (angst, fluff, headcanon)

Harry Potter Universe:

Weasleys

Fred Weasley:

Ambulo Aqua (Fred x fem reader, fluff)

Harry Potter Guys

Oliver Wood

Locker Room Tales (Oliver x gender neutral reader, fluff)

Harry Potter

The Chosen One (Harry x reader, smut)

Marauders era

Remus Lupin

What Better Way to Relax Than Sex? (Remus x fem reader, smut)

Harry Potter Headcannons

Doing It With The Harry Potter Characters Is Like (smut headcannons)

Top Gun Fandom:

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Hanging In There Series: Part 1 Jake "Hangman" Seresin Hanging In There Series: Part 1

The Hunger Games Series

[daddy-cake]

Krueger x Mexican!Reader Headcanons

Y'all already know the drill, this is all sfw and Gender Neutral!Reader

No use of any Y/N variations

A/N: I'm Mexican and in love with him... I just had to. This place needed more Mexican!Readers anyways🙄

MEXICO RAHHHH🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽✊🏼✊🏼✊🏼✊🏼

Reader is also implied to not be part of the military. Sorry not sorry <33.

Warnings: All of these just silly goofy

MASTERLIST

First time meeting your family is going to be Krueger's last.

The family wasn't so happy to hear that you fell in love with a white man.. They could have let it slide if he was American because most Mexicans are a suck up to Americans... but Austrian? Grandma was literally crying at the news and praying for the family, she was claiming that the family was truly doomed. The only thing that will get the family to calm down is you reminding them that he isn't from Spain or Argentina. Heavy on Argentina.

Family is going to be calling him "El Barbie" in a derogatory sense. You tried to tell him that it was a compliment and means that's he's tough in Spanish.

Your dad definitely tried to bond with him by taking him to rooster fight. However, the two came home and your father was beyond mad. He starts claiming that Sebastian is bad luck because his rooster, who has a streak of wining 20 tournaments, lost. Got rubbed by the egg afterwards.

Sebastian isn't too pleased with the environment. Parents are having an argument, kids are running around screaming or crying, music is playing at full volume, one of the dogs are barking, the tías are gossiping, La Rosa de Guadalupe is playing, Grandma rubbing him with the egg and praying, Grandpa is working on the roof, and some cousin is vacuuming.

When dinner came around... lord help this man. He wasn't prepared for the spice that only he could taste. Had tears trying to escape then he had to excuse himself from the table and go outside to regain his composure. The whole family was muttering "No aguanta nada" the whole time.

To say he was relieved to hear that you two were going home is an understatement. He preferred more of a quiet environment than one that is loud and makes it very apparent that he's not welcomed there.

When you two arrived at your own place he was ready to just pass out. He was warned that the place was going to be busy, but he thought he could handle it and it wasn't that bad since he was a soldier... he should've listened to you.

The next day was spent inside and not even letting an ounce of the outside in. Krueger dearly needed it to just regain his sanity from the pervious day.

Everything was going fine until when he wanted to prepare something for lunch. He was looking all over the kitchen for the pots and pans until he finally gave up and asked you where you kept them.

"Why are they in the oven?"

"You don't put them in the oven?"

Krueger at one point received a gift that was rooster from you and was so confused why you would gift him this. At first, he thought it was some sort of joke gift from you until he realized it was a genuine gift after a few seconds of silence. Doesn't even know what to do with it, so he ended up giving it to your dad. Dad was not happy.

The one time the both of you went out to dinner, he was not expecting other guests to keep telling you two to have a good meal as it wasn't a thing in all of the countries he has lived in.

Was told by you not to speak at all when you two were out on the streets or else y'all would get jump. Krueger doesn't listen to the rules though.

When you left your Banda music on while doing some chores, he was about to turn it off but he got really into the music.

Got a chihuahua simply because you begged for one and he found it somewhat funny that despite their small sizes they are very protective. Also it was between that or the stray xoloitzcuintli down the street that's been there for around 10 years.

100% brags about thechihuahua, saying he has a vicious dog that could kill anyone. Everyone thought he got a Rottweiler for a long time.

La Quebradita. Trust once you teach Krueger the basics, y'all gonna be making your cousins and their partners jealous. Considering he's part of a PMC and once in the military, he obviously is gonna have some strength. That strength comes in handy when you two want go all out in a Quebradita competition.

Considering Krueger was once part of the military, he obviously would be sort of tidy considering that they engraved that trait into his head when he first joined. So yes, he would help you clean around the house. HOWEVER, laundry duty is always on him. Simply the way that you'll probably fold clothes would just trigger something in him like a sleeper agent.

You'll always have to be the first to initiate any sort of "I love you"s. He doesn't know why, but he just can't bring himself to say it to you.

When Sebastian is away on missions, he often times receive texts from you that revolves around staying safe. He can't help it, but to have a small smile plaster on his face.

There will be some point in the relationship that he would just go off the grid and/or no contact for a few days. It's not that he hates you. It's just that considering the life he has lead, he definitely needs some points to take a step back to recollect in a way. Also to stay away from authorities, but let's not take about that.

Would never go into any sort of detail about his background besides being part of the military. He'd never once talk about his parents or why he's no longer part of said military. To you he's kinda of an enigma. You know so little about him, but he knows so much about you. You that it was unfair in a sense. However, no matter how much you try to get answers, he'd never budge. So after awhile, you start chalking things up to him having a strained relationship with his parents (which in a lot of Mexican households would probably mean that his parents were absolutely vile if you go no contact with them) and possibly leaving the military on his own terms.

Krueger would go great lengths for a mangonada. Me too bro, me too.

[elvisabutler]

elvis presley x reader

give you my heart ( rated t, big daddy elvis ) come and trim my christmas tree ( rated m, big daddy elvis. the smuttier version of give you my heart. ) sentimental over you ( rated g, big daddy elvis fluff. ) the happiest place on earth is here with you ( rated t, 60s elvis. ) catharsis ( rated m, sub big daddy e. gender neutral reader. ) teddy bear ( rated t, big daddy elvis, plus size reader. ) i got a feeling in my body ( rated m, 60s elvis sugar daddy. work in progress. ) never, no never, a baby, baby like mine ( rated m, 70s/big daddy elvis. sequel to my baby’s sure his love’s secure from kinktober. work in progress. ) make you know it ( big daddy elvis showing female reader how good sex can be. work in progress. ) orpheus ( elvis x priscilla x reader. sequel to gravity. work in progress. ) watch the smoke pour out the doors ( rated m, vampire elvis ) is this a sexual buffet or a comeback special? ( rated m, incubus elvis. co-written with @prompted-wordsmith ) teeth grown sharp and glowing red ( rated me, incubus elvis. sequel to is this a sexual buffet or a comeback special? co-written once again with @prompted-wordsmith. ) queen of graceland verse ( that one breeding kink-ish series ) masterlist professor presley ( big daddy ) masterlist beyond the sea verse ( selkie elvis ) masterlist gunmetal masterlist

elvis presley x original female character

spark masterlist ( never famous big daddy electrician au with war ptsd, elvis the pelvis mentions and tragic married women oh my. rated ) quiet on the set masterlist ( late hollywood elvis gets directed by alfred hitchcock's daughter and falls head over heels in love and shenanigans happen. ft. elvis as stanley from streetcar named desire and as rooster from true grit. )

elvis presley

caught in a trap masterlist

[blurredcolour]

You Left Your Name On My Lips

“It's Not The Prompt. It's The Creator." Challenge

Prompt: "Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time.”

Summary: A rare professional opportunity reignites painful memories of what seems was never meant to be.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Death in Retrospect, Discussion of Loss and Grief, Discussion of Graves, Military Inaccuracies, Political Inaccuracies, Several References to January 6 Capitol Riots, Minor Reader Injury, Blood, Hospital Setting, Brief Discussion of Prosthetics, References to Sad Maverick, Medal Ceremony, Surprise Ending. Rating - T.

Credit: Paramount Pictures

Author's Note: Reader has no gender or physical descriptions. Pronouns are used a few times as they/them. All images contain image descriptions for accessibility. Thank you very much for reading and happy one year anniversary to Top Gun Maverick!

Word Count: 7505

“You left your name on my lips, everyone I meet knows I loved you…” – Katherine Perez (@s.h.e.ispoetry)

The late afternoon thunderstorm broke over West Executive Avenue just as you left the safety of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, hastening your steps into a run while you darted across the street toward the West Wing. As a member of the speech writing staff, you found yourself traversing this route often throughout the workday, but rarely at the direct request of the Deputy Communications Director.

Pressing the notebook in your hand into service as a make-shift umbrella, you hitched your laptop bag higher onto your shoulder and dashed into the building. You took a moment to ensure you looked presentable before signing in with security and heading towards the Communications bullpen. You paused at the corner of Ben Simkin��s desk, waiting for the Assistant to the Deputy Communications Director to finish his phone call so he could tell you how many minutes late your meeting would be.

“Looks like you just beat the rain.” Ben said as the phone rattled home into its cradle. “She’s only five minutes late so you can come right in.” He stood and led you through the open office door.

“Thanks, Ben. Definitely got in here at the right time…” You muttered, watching the deluge cascade against the windowpane.

“I saw you’re on holidays next week, going anywhere exciting?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe to indulge in a moment of friendly conversation.

You had always enjoyed Ben’s personable warmth. Particularly in contrast to the brusque efficiency of Faith Watson, the woman who shared administrative duties for the Communications team. It was always a good day when you got a reply from Ben rather than her.

“Just back to visit the family, they are constantly complaining they don’t see enough of me. I don’t see enough of me…” The pair of you shared a laugh before his line began to ring again and he hurried out to answer it quickly.

A flash of lightning flickered through the dimly lit office, thunder cracking and rumbling promptly in its wake as you settled into one of the chairs across the empty desk. Your thoughts turned back to the possible reasons why you had been summoned here when your eyes skidded to a halt on the file folder resting on the cluttered yet orderly desktop. The three letters scrawled in a black marker sorely in need of an ink refill sucked the moisture from your mouth, making you squirm in your chair uneasily.

MOH

“So sorry to keep you waiting.” Your boss suddenly burst into the room, and you stood quickly as she turned on a few more lights to fight off the gloom of the storm.

“N, not at all. How can I help?” You asked quickly, sitting as she assumed her seat behind the desk and gestured for you to sit as well.

You watched with trepidation as her hand stretched out to land on the very same folder that had evoked such a physical reaction within you just moments before. Shit.

“As you’re well aware, we have a Medal of Honor ceremony coming up this Friday. I’ve just gone through the latest draft of the speech and Michael has done a wonderful job, but it is missing…. something. Some sense of who the Lieutenant Commander was.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips nervously as you tried to take steady breaths, nodding to show that you were listening as you held your notebook on your lap in a ruthless grip.

“It’s my understanding that you knew him?” She tilted her head, eyeing you thoughtfully as you slowly nodded, wondering from exactly where this information had reached her.

“Yes, I did.” You somehow managed to voice.

“I know this is perhaps an impossible ask, but given your talent with words as well as your personal insight, I was hoping you might agree to take a pass at it?” She tented her fingers in front of her lips, assessing your reaction thoughtfully.

There was a reason she was sitting behind that desk. She had just made an incredibly difficult request wrapped within a compliment and tied with the bow of a professional opportunity. And while your initial, visceral reaction was to refuse, the rational and professional part of your brain interceded.

“I would be honored, ma’am.” You nodded, wishing your voice sounded more confident, but still thrilled that you had been able to speak.

“Thank you. I consider this a personal favor and will not forget it.” She glanced back at the rain pelting against the windowpane behind her and frowned. “Why don’t you get Ben to find you somewhere in the West Wing to work on this. A lot of people will have left for the day, and we need to get this finalized as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you, I will get started right away…” You gulped and reached out for the folder, tucking it close against your body as you tried to leave her office at a reasonable pace instead of the headlong flee that was burning to be released from the muscles of your legs. “Ben?” You cleared your throat as your voice came out slightly brittle and shaky. “Do you think you can find me a hole in the wall somewhere in this building?”

He raised an eyebrow before turning to his computer, clicking around. You raised your own eyes to the ceiling above you, calling upon whatever higher beings you could think of to grant you strength and patience.

“Follow me.” He said at last, though in truth it had been a sum total of forty-five seconds, before he led you through a maze of corridors and down a set of stairs into a plain office. “Usually held in reserve for the Deputy Chief of Staff’s Office…they are clearly not using it right now…You ok?” He eyed you skeptically and you swallowed tightly, offering a nod and a tight smile.

“Just in for a late night is all.” You clarified.

“Well, the kitchen is open for another two hours so maybe get some food now.” He advised. “Or you’ll be eating a hot dog on the corner, and you’ll never find this room again.”

The laugh that his comment pulled from you brought with it faint relief from the tension you had been carrying since your meeting and you nodded, setting your things on the dated wooden desk.

“Thank you, Ben. Have a good night.”

The door shut behind him with a careful click as you went about setting up your laptop, connecting to the network, and settling into the questionably supportive chair before at last you had no choice but to turn your attention to the file folder you had been dutifully ignoring. As you loaded the word processing file of the speech from your email, you tugged the packet closer. Opening it slowly revealed a copy of the medal citation and other documents pertaining to the ceremony on the left side, while the redacted Naval personnel file of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw lay on the right.

With unsteady fingers, you moved to lift the personnel file before suddenly losing your nerve, curling your fingers back into a fist and turning instead to read over the medal citation.

The words blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors behind the tears that flooded your eyes, refusing to be blinked away any longer. Everything had changed that day, just over a year ago, when Bradley Bradshaw had sacrificed his life to save everyone on board the aircraft carrier upon which he had been serving. You had found out a week later, along with the rest of the world, when the news broke on CNN. Truthfully, as his ex, you had not been entitled to anything more.

The cold hard truth that your relationship, ended by mutual decision in the late fall of 2020, was well over, had not made his death any easier to bear. It had, rather, clarified a fact you had been desperately trying to deny – you were still very much in love with the man and ending your relationship based on your diverging career paths and the 2,500 miles between you had been the worst mistake of your life. And now he was never going to come home.

Slumping over the back of the chair, you sealed your palm over your mouth as the sobs rose in your throat, unbidden yet unstoppable. Hot tears spilled from your eyes, scorching their way up along your temples as each exhale wracked your body with grief that remained as raw and unresolved one year on. His absence from this earth had created a jagged chasm in the pit of your stomach – one that refused to be filled or covered over no matter how hard you worked or what failed relationships you had pursued.

Grounding yourself by digging your heels into aggregate flooring and sinking the nails of your free hand into the distressed wood on the underside of the desktop, you managed to slow your breaths. To cram the agony of your grief back into its cage beneath your breastbone, leaving you an exhausted wreck in the gathering dark of your borrowed, subterranean office. You searched through your laptop bag, hoping you might have saved some napkins from that last time you’d eaten out, but you were disappointed to find nothing more than a few pens.

Seriously considering wiping your face on your shirtsleeves, you looked up startled at the knock on the door before Ben’s face appeared through the small gap as he opened it. He tutted gently as he took in your barely recovered composure.

“I thought as much.” He murmured gently before sliding into the room with a box of tissues, a tray of drinks, and two takeout containers.

“Ben…you are a saint…” You croaked and paused, not sure which of the items he set on the desk you wanted the most before ultimately settling on the tissues.

Turning slightly in your chair, you made quick work of mopping your face and blowing your nose as discreetly as possible in the small space afforded in the office. After discarding the used tissues, your next priority was a cold beverage, sighing deeply after you took your first sip.

“You even got my favourite.”

He grinned proudly, snacking on French fry from his meal, having settled into the only other chair in the room.

“I could just tell…”

“A saint, Ben.” You reaffirmed before carefully tucking into the meal he had procured for you.

A few bites in you remembered yourself and quickly fished out your phone, sending him a funds transfer for the food.

“Oh, that wasn’t…” He muttered after he checked the resulting notification on his phone. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You sniffed thoughtfully, swallowing your bite as you shook your head.

“I’m not, but I still really appreciate this, Ben.”

“So, you didn’t…just know him did you…” He asked hesitantly and you paused with a bite of food raised to your lips before taking the food into your mouth and shaking your head again.

“No Ben,” You clarified after swallowed. “I was very much in love with Bradley Bradshaw. Still am I suppose, even though he’s…gone…” The final word of your sentence seemed to catch in your throat reluctantly, and you coughed a little to force it out.

Ben frowned deeply and looked over the folder laying open on the desk.

“I’ll talk to her, there’s no way she can ask this of you…”

“No! No, I…I agreed to do it, it’s an opportunity to touch a Presidential speech directly and independently. I don’t get those very often Ben. And I. It’s something I can do for him, one last time.” Your throat constricted again ominously so you nodded, hoping that sufficiently rounded out the thought you were trying to communicate.

Ben inhaled deeply, holding his breath in inflated cheeks, before exhaling it through pursed lips as he nodded.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He tilted his head.

“This,” you gestured at your nearly completed meal, “has already helped more than I can say. Thank you.”

His soft smile was a balm to your aching heart – by no means a cure, but it had a soothing effect.

“Did you want to talk about him?”

“I don’t think. I don’t think that I can quite yet, Ben. Maybe someday? I’d like to…someday….”

“When you’re ready then.” He stood to collect the remnants of your meal, moving toward the door. “Are you alright if I head home?”

“Please do! You really didn’t have to stay for me. But thank you.” You nodded and he smiled warmly before stepping out, leaving you to the quiet of the office.

Taking a few deep breaths, you put some background music on your phone to help you focus on the task at hand before pulling up the speech to review what had been written thus far. The Deputy Director had not been wrong, there was a dimension missing. Typically, interviews were conducted with the honoree’s family, but Bradley had no close family left to speak for him. You knew that one of the main reasons he had chosen to stay out in California, rather than returning to Virginia, had been to reconnect with Maverick – Captain Mitchell, but he did not seem to be a man of many words.

At least he had not been that night when he showed up at your apartment door bearing a handwritten letter from Bradley. It had taken him several weeks to track you down; your personal details including phone number and address were unlisted for your safety and security. Working in politics had taken on an entirely different level of risk after January 6, 2021, but even before that you had made the choice to be as difficult to find as possible.

He had not had much to say as he stood there in his dress blues, other than to confirm your name and give you his condolences. He had delivered some prescribed line about Bradley’s bravery before disappearing down the stairs of your building, leaving you with the worn envelope, your name scrawled on the front in Bradley’s handwriting.

Shaking your head to physically clear the thoughts from your mind, you turned your focus back to the cursor in your word document, blinking at you expectantly, before beginning to type out an additional paragraph.

Words fall utterly short when we try to describe who someone was. We must look to their deeds. The words “Reckless disregard for personal safety” in his citation are striking. Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw had a history of fearless determination. He was unafraid of pursuing his goals despite any obstacles in his path, and twenty-two-months prior to the events of July 2022 was fully prepared to lay down his life for his superior officer.

“He even risked disciplinary action to call his ex from work during the Capitol Riots of January 6…” You sniffled aloud, shaking your head fondly.

You had been working for a prominent Senator during that time, doing some paperwork when the crowd infiltrated the Capitol building. Alone in the office, the rest of your colleagues in the chamber staffing the Senator, you had been frozen by panic and uncertainty. The unexpected vibration of your cellphone on your desk had been jarring, particularly when Bradley’s name accompanied it on the screen.

You had taken the call, whispering beneath the Senator’s desk, and he had talked you through barricading the door, through making the office appear unoccupied. You had heard someone begin to reprimand him on his end of the line, but he had continued to speak to you calmly, reassuringly.

“You’re going to be alright, just keep low, keep quiet, and keep that umbrella in your hands, ok?”

“O…k…ok Bradley.” You had whispered, not sounding nearly as sure as he had.

“I have to go now…” He had apologized gently.

“You’re damn right you do, Lieutenant Commander!” You had heard the sharp bark of his superior much closer this time.

“Thank you!” You had risked a little more volume to give him your emphatic gratitude before ending the call, feeling somewhat more prepared to deal with whatever might come down the hall.

It was the last time you had spoken to him.

You realized now that you should have called him back, but at that the time life had been moving so fast. As soon as the building was made safe, the voting had resumed. And then the transition team had called offering a position on the speech writing staff in the White House. The whirlwind of activity had been shifted into a higher gear of intensity at that point until the next time you looked up was to watch the report of his death on CNN.

Filled with a sudden curiosity, you turned to his personnel file, gnawing on your lower lip as you leafed through the papers contained within. You let out a gasp when you came across the notation that a nonpunitive letter of caution was delivered to him on January 7, 2021. While the contents of these letters were typically private, it was not hard to guess just what message Bradley’s superior officer had delivered to him.

“Oh Bradley…” You sighed fondly, shaking your head before turning back to your keyboard with renewed inspiration.

After two hours of writing, shaping, and polishing, you felt confident enough to submit your version of the speech to the Deputy Director. Sending the email, you carefully packed up your laptop before tucking the contents of the Bradley’s personnel file and citation back into the ceremony folder with a quiet reverence.

Stopping by her office, you were not surprised to see her still there working away. You dropped off the folder and wished her a good night. The rain had let up during your time working underground, leaving a blissfully cool evening, free of the usual summer humidity. Due to the late hour, public transit was quieter on your commute home, and your street almost tranquil. Dropping your keys and bills from your mailbox on the kitchen counter, you found your steps leading you to your bedside table of their own volition, filled with a desire to reread Bradley’s last words to you.

You sat on the edge of you bed, turning on the lamp there, and fished the worn envelope out from the bottom of the drawer. Carefully unfolding the familiar creases, you traced your eyes along his slanting penmanship.

Tilting your head back to prevent any stray tears from soiling the paper, the idea to laminate the pages to preserve them flitted through your mind once again. And yet the idea of putting a barrier between you and his words remained so off-putting that you shook you head. You carefully tucked it away for next time, dragging your tired mind and body to the shower.

The final draft of the speech was presented at the Communications team meeting the next afternoon, accompanied by your heart hammering beneath your ribs and a knowing grin from the Deputy Director. It was your version, untouched from the night before. There was no formal announcement, no by-line, but the people who needed to know, knew the authors of that speech. And you were indisputably one of them. As you were making your way out of the room, your boss stopped you, extending an invitation to the ceremony on Friday.

“I recognize it might be difficult…” She stated, giving you an out, but you took a breath to steel your resolve and shook your head.

“I’d be honored to attend, thank you.”

“Wonderful, I’ll have Ben set it up in your calendar.” She smiled before excusing herself to answer a call on her cell.

The building was a flurry of activity the day of the ceremony. The sheer extent of it – uniformed personnel and staff rushing through the lobby, the buzz of conversation – set your teeth on edge as you stepped into the West Wing that morning. Rather than making your way directly to your meeting, you decided to stop by Ben’s desk as he had an innate talent for picking up on the root cause of chaos as this seemed far beyond the usual for this type of occasion.

As you entered the Communications bullpen, his eyes widened when they met yours and he hardly seemed aware of the phone receiver pressed to his ear, belatedly uttering an apology before ending the call. He glanced around before lurching to his feet and grasping your elbow, pulling you into the notably empty Deputy Director’s office.

“You should sit.” He said with no preamble.

“Good morning, Ben, it’s lovely to see you too. I had a good sleep thank you for asking.” You greeted him with plenty of sass and a raised eyebrow.

You were already feeling snappish this morning, nerves frayed by excess emotion, and whatever sudden onslaught of chivalry he was experiencing was unwelcome.

“I’m sorry. The ceremony today has been postponed indefinitely.” He frowned, gesturing at one of the empty chairs hopefully but you shook your head as your stomach sank.

“Indefinitely? I don’t understand. These things don’t get postponed, they are thoroughly researched and perfected and…what on earth happened?!” You realized your volume had gradually increased to reach something akin to a shout as he winced, and you frowned. “Sorry…”

“You’re not going to sit, are you…” He sighed and you shook your head impatiently.

“Ben…” You said warningly.

“Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw has been located alive in Kuwait and was air lifted to hospital in Germany during the night.”

You realized that Ben’s lips continued moving after the word ‘alive’, but your ears were filled with a dull buzzing. All of the blood in your body felt as though it seeped out of the soles of your feet into the plush office carpet, and you crumpled to the floor.

The bright glare of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and Ben’s frantic face greeted your return to consciousness and you hissed at the pain in your right cheek, reaching a hand up to find a tender spot. Your fingers came away smeared faintly with blood.

“You clipped the corner of the desk on the way down…are you ok?!” He looked you over quickly, finding a tissue to press against your cut.

“I think…I think so. Ben. Repeat what you said…” You looked to him, terrified to be optimistic.

“He’s alive.” He could barely contain his grin, squeezing your shoulders as he punctuated the statement with your name. “He’s alive, after all this time, he was hiding somewhere and…I don’t have all the details yet, but…they obviously want to put the medal around his neck once they get him home.” He looked around suddenly. “But you! You should call in sick right now and buy a ticket to Germany. Go. Go to him.”

Your eyes whirled around the room, trying to find something to focus on to help you process the fact that man you had just help eulogize in a Presidential speech had in fact survived his act of reckless disregard for personal safety. Ben pulled the tissue away from your cheek and your eyes were drawn to the bright red contrasting sharply against the white between his fingers. Everything seemed to crystalize in your mind, and you looked to him quickly.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah, you do.” He grinned wider. “I’ll start texting you flights, get out of here.” He quickly slapped a bandage onto your cheek from the nearby first aid kit before shooing you out of the office.

You darted back to your desk, leaving your sick message on the Deputy Director’s voicemail and texting Ben that you had done so. He replied that it was duly entered into the attendance log and then spammed your phone with flight deals. You got home, throwing together a suitcase and grabbing your passport within an hour, flight booked to leave in three hours. Turning around quickly, you changed out of your suit into something more appropriate for a long-haul flight, before heading to the airport.

Six hours later, you found yourself pushing long-cooled airplane food around its sectioned tray as your eyes stared unseeing at the movie on the screen in the back of the headrest in front of you. Your mind was too busy mulling over the improbability, the impossibility, of it all to focus on the film you had chosen to distract yourself, the meal you had chosen from the options on the flight attendant’s cart.

How, in this era of hyper-interconnectedness, had a Bradley gone unfound for over a year? You knew from his citation that his was the only American plane in the air at the time, from the investigation records that they only had radar and radio communications to rely upon to detail the events before his plane crashed. Courtesy of those same records, you knew a covert operation had been undertaken to examine the crash site in enemy territory. That some form of remains had been recovered, identified, and buried in Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in San Diego.

Yet the postponement of a Medal of Honor ceremony was unprecedented. It would not have occurred on the basis of mere speculation or rumor. Ben’s report that Bradley was alive must be true, but how it was possible was entirely beyond your comprehension.

Landing in Frankfurt at five thirty in the morning local time, you were then faced with nearly three hours of public transportation before you finally arrived at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. You had barely slept or eaten, but Ben’s bandage was still securely in place on your cheek. At least that was something in your favour.

After all you had overcome to arrive at the nursing station in Germany, you had not expected to be thwarted by a dour-faced Army sergeant.

“Are you family?”

“Well, no, not exactly but I…”

“Authorized personnel and family only.” He replied firmly, looking down his hawkish nose at you and you frowned down at the flecked pattern on the worn laminate countertop.

“Add them to the list, they are family.” A voice interceded from the other side of the l-shaped desk, and you lifted your eyes quickly to see Captain Mitchell standing there. “Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw will want to see them.”

He looked younger than the last time you had seen him. As though the weight of the entire Navy had been lifted off his shoulders. There was, perhaps, even the trace of a smile in his eyes as he nodded for you to hand over your passport so the long-suffering sergeant could add you to the list of approved visitors.

“His room is this way, come on.” He tilted his head toward the wide, sterile hallway and you found your feet rooted to the spot, unable to take another step after flying thousands of miles on the word of your colleague. “Truly. He will want to see you.” Captain Mitchell assured you and, swallowing roughly, you found the will to propel your body into motion once more.

Captain Mitchell stepped into the room first and you carefully set your luggage in one of the chairs by the door, inhaling sharply as you heard a voice you thought had been silenced forever.

“Heya Mav, thought you were going for coffee…” Bradley rasped.

“Found something better on the way…” He turned to the side to reveal you, standing there like a deer in headlights, staring at a very alive Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw.

He was thinner than the last time you had seen him, having endured who knows what hardships in the name of survival over the past twelve months. His normally tan skin had lost its glow too, most likely from the necessity of hiding, and his customarily trimmed moustache had expanded down his cheeks and jaw into a full beard. Lack of sunlight had kept his chestnut hair dark as well, grown long in luscious waves. Yet he was still unmistakably the man that kept a firm hold over your heart, long frame barely fitting on the bed, propped up in a sitting position beneath a white and blue flannel hospital sheet.

Your name fell from his lips in a whisper, and he looked quickly between you and Captain Mitchell.

“You sure I’m not dead?”

Blinking rapidly as tears threatened to flood your vision, you and Captain Mitchell shook your heads at the same time.

“No Rooster, you’re definitely alive, they’re definitely here, and I’m definitely going for that coffee now.” Captain Mitchell excused himself and you walked over to the hospital bed slowly, trying to remember how to breathe. In and then out.

You did not need to faint again, especially not in front of Bradley.

“Hi…” You said quietly, feeling suddenly shy. Even draped over a hospital bed after a year of being declared dead Bradley was still the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes upon. Even with a full beard. Perhaps especially…

He held out his hand to you and you quickly took it between both of yours, sighing softly at the reassuring warmth of his skin as he guided you even closer to his bedside. With his free hand, he reached up to run his fingers along the bandage across your cheek.

“What happened?” He frowned.

You huffed a self-deprecating laugh and shook your head.

“Close encounter with a desk while fainting.” You muttered. “Are you ok?”

“You fainted? When?” He looked you over, concern knitting his brows tighter.

Typical Bradley, ignoring any concern you might have for him. Unchanged in the least.

“About…fourteen hours ago, I suppose?” You grimaced.

“Because of me.” He said flatly and you conceded with a nod. “I’m sorry…”

“Please…Don’t apologize, it was the best news. I…I just happened to fold like a deck chair.”

His lips twitched into a grin which you echoed happily.

“Such a softie.” He teased.

“I’ll have you know I fought off the QAnon Shaman with that umbrella, thank you.” You boasted playfully.

He squinted at you quizzically and you registered that perhaps he was not quite well enough for that level of humor.

“Not really, I was removed to a safe room shortly after our call. Thank you again Bradley. Thank you for taking the time to write me that letter, as well. For asking Captain Mitchell to bring it to me. It meant a lot.” Your voice trembled, betraying your heightened emotions.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry I was such a moron and never said any of those things to you until I thought I was going to die.”

Shaking your head quickly you lifted his hand, still clasped between yours, and kissed the tips of his fingers.

“I’m just as guilty…I mean I technically haven’t even apologized to you in return. I wrote you a letter in reply, but I left it in San Diego...at…” You trailed off not wanting to discuss the gravesite you had visited. “I love you. I never stopped and I’m sorry I was also so stupid…” Your voice wavered with emotion as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

“I love you, too.” He murmured and shifted his hand between yours to lace your fingers together tightly. “There was never a pair of idiots better suited for each other.”

You laughed tearfully, wiping at your eyes with the cuff of your sleeve and shaking your head.

“Never.” You agreed. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?” You asked, looking around the anonymous, off-white room filled with the typical hospital equipment. It could have been located anywhere in the world, for how similar it looked to every hospital room you had ever had the misfortune to see.

“Yeah…come here…” He crooked the index and middle fingers of his free hand, gesturing you closer.

You immediately leaned over the railing of his bed, shifting closer.

“What is it?” You asked, wanting to be of assistance.

“A kiss.” He grinned, slipping his fingers around the back of your neck as soon as you were within his reach.

“Oh.” You murmured, eyes flicking up to meet his warm, whisky-colored gaze, before assisting him in closing the distance.

It was tentative at first, a gentle brush of mouths that sent a familiar rush of warmth through your veins and had your breath shuddering against his damp lips. His breath caught audibly in his throat before he tugged you closer, pulling your lips to his firmly as you pressed your still-entwined hands into the mattress beside his head to brace yourself. The fingers of your other hand delved greedily into his longer-than-usual curls, relishing in their silky feel as he rumbled happily against your lips.

Finding your synchronized rhythm after all these years, both of your lips parted to deepen the kiss. You sighed deeply at the familiar taste that was unmistakably his, mixed with the salty tang of tears as one or both of you were crying. A deliberate knock and polite cough had you tensing before pulling back quickly, untangling your fingers from his hair carefully before stepping back to allow what looked like a team of doctors to enter the room.

You slipped out into the hall when they initiated their exam, wanting to give him his full privacy, and sank into one of the chairs near the desk where the unpleasant sergeant offered you a glare before turning back to his work. The output of energy, and ebb of adrenaline, caught up to you then and you found your eyelids sinking heavily as you rested your chin on your palm, elbow balanced on the arm rest, dozing until one of the medical team gently shook you awake.

“Sorry. Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is asking for you…” She apologized as you blinked up at her sleepily, but you smiled quickly and shook your head, heading back into the room again, noting that Bradley’s countenance was more serious than when you had parted.

An empty food tray sat on the bedside table – you had apparently slept through meal delivery.

“Everything ok?” You asked quietly, carrying one of the empty chairs over to sit beside his bed as he looked you over, sighing softly. You noticed the team had dropped the side rail on his bed and left it lowered, making him more easily accessible to you.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation of where I’ve been. Of what happened.”

“Bradley, you owe me absolutely nothing. You can share with me whatever you wish whenever you are ready but there is no obligation involved.” You frowned, reaching for his hand, which he squeezed softly as he stroked his beard thoughtfully with the other.

“Let me start with the fact that I am not unscathed? I…You went to my grave, you all but said as much.” You nodded guiltily in reply, and he squeezed your hand against reassuringly. “I left a piece of myself behind in that plane, after the missile hit, before I could eject.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, looking him over as he looked pretty whole to you, until your eyes trailed lower, and you noticed only one peak at the end of the bed when there ought to be two. Your eyes widened as your heart rate picked up, but you did your best to take a steady breath and assume a neutral expression before turning back to him.

“Your leg?” You asked gently.

“My left foot.” He confirmed with a nod, voice tight. “I assume that’s what they found and used as confirmation of my death. There’s not an awful lot left usually when we burn in. That’s what is probably buried in San Diego.”

“I’m so sorry, Bradley…” You shifted to stand, sliding your arms around him in a careful hug, pressing your cheek against the top of his hair as he buried his face in your neck.

You held him reassuringly, hands pressing into his back soothingly as his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you until his heavy breaths evened out and he leaned back to look up at you.

“They have to do more surgery, to properly fit a prosthetic. A sympathetic family found me, cauterized it, kept me alive, moved me around to other like-minded people until they could smuggle me to Kuwait…It’s never stopped hurting…” He whispered and you frowned softly, kissing his forehead.

“Oh Bradley…” You whispered in reply, arms tightening around him protectively, wishing you could bear just a little of his burden, ease even a fraction of his pain.

He lay his head against your chest, and you lifted a hand to stroke his hair soothingly.

“They want me to get stronger and then they’ll send me state side for surgery and rehab…they’re thinking Walter Reed…”

You hummed thoughtfully, trying not to take too much pleasure in the thought of him being in Maryland.

“It’s a good hospital.”

“Close to you.”

“I’d come as much as possible. You’d be welcome to come stay with me if you need a place.” You murmured, noting how his torso was growing heavier against you. “Why don’t we lay you down, hmmm?” You suggested softly and he nodded, complying sleepily.

You rearranged his blankets carefully to tuck him in, settling into the chair at his bedside and taking his hand, watching as he fought with his heavy eyelids.

“Shhh rest, Bradley, it’s ok.”

“Stay…?” He asked, eyes flashing open one last time to lock onto yours pleadingly.

“Of course I’ll stay.” You nodded and squeezed his hand, smiling as he nodded back, surrendering to his exhaustion and falling asleep.

You were not far behind, laying your head on the bed beside your clasped hands, letting sleep overtake you as well.

You awoke to the feel of warm, calloused fingertips stroking down your jaw, your lips curling up at the corners at the pleasant sensation before you forced your eyes open in the low light of the hospital room. Any sense of time had abandoned you somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, but it was still dark outside the windows and a glance around the room revealed a sleeping Captain Mitchell, slumped back in the other chair near the door.

Looking back to Bradley, who’s touch had roused you, he mouthed a soft sorry, to which you shook your head in reply.

“You ok?” You whispered.

“Hungry.” He confessed and you smirked a little.

“I’ll find something ok?”

He nodded gratefully and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before easing your stiff body from its less-than-ergonomic position in your chair. You both shared a wide-eyed look at the crack your neck emitted, glancing over at Maverick, who thankfully slept through it all. You stopped by the nursing station, grateful to find a friendly lieutenant on duty who directed you to a vending machine with sandwiches at the end of the hall.

Suddenly inspired to hunger of your own, you procured a few from the machine that thankfully accepted American currency before returning to the room to partake in your feast with Bradley. Once you’d cleared away the wrappers and the crumbs, he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“You said you wrote me a reply…did you save a copy?”

You swallowed and eyed him for a moment, wondering how it was possible for someone to know you so very well. While you had written the letter to him on compostable paper, hoping to leave as little an environmental footprint as possible, a part of you had needed to keep of a record of your words to him. Thus, you had taken a photo of your handwritten letter and saved it on your phone.

You pulled the device out of your pocket, ignoring the knowing grin on his features as you pulled it up, squinting a little at the intrusive brightness before holding it out for him to read in the dimly lit silence.

He raised his eyes as he came to the end, the glow of the screen causing the unshed tears in his eyes to shimmer. You leaned up to kiss his temple before whispering.

“I’d like to amend the ending…. You’re home now, thanks to every power in the universe, and whatever comes next, we get to figure it out together.”

He licked his lips slowly, setting your phone down on the worn flannel, before cupping your face to guide your mouth to meet his warmly.

When at last, nearly a year later, the President delivered his rewritten speech and secured the blue ribbon of the Medal of Honor around Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw’s neck, you watched from the front row with a raised mark on your cheek. Bradley fondly referred to it as your ‘rescue mission battle scar’ and pressed his lips to it with delightful frequency, letting the whiskers of his once again neatly trimmed moustache tickle your cheek.

The seat you occupied was that of his beloved partner, rather than standing in the corner as an anonymous White House staffer. It was the seat that you had always been meant to occupy and one that would never willingly vacate again.

Top Gun Masterlist

@tgm-all4one

[make-me-imagine]

Valentines Day 2023 Masterlist

Here are the links to everything I wrote for Valentines Day 2023.

Note: All fics are Gender Neutral Reader Inserts.

Leverage:

Eliot Spencer x Reader: 'My First Valentine' (fluff/drabble)

Eliot Spencer x Reader: 'What You Want the Most' (fluff/romance)

Harry Wilson x Reader: 'Flowers and Confessions' (fluff/cute)

Top Gun:

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader: 'In Your Dreams' (angst/fluff)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader: 'Love Is Stored in Post-It Notes' (fluff)

Top Gun Valentines Scenario Game

MCU:

Peter Maximoff x Reader: 'Disheveled Confession' (fluff/cute)

Stephen Strange x Reader: 'Only You' (romance/cute)

Scott Summers x Reader: 'More Than Anything' (angst/fluff)

Shang-Chi x Reader: 'My Person' (fluff/romance)

Stargate:

John Sheppard x Reader: 'A New Experience' (cute/fluff)

9-1-1:

Lou Ransone x Reader: 'Valentines Day Morning' (domestic fluff/drabble)

The Gentlemen:

Raymond Smith x Reader: 'Exactly My Type' (romantic/cute)

Star Trek SNW:

Spock x Reader: 'Two Hearts, Eight Words' (romance/cute)

Enola Holmes:

Sherlock Holmes x Reader: 'Cheers To Us' (romantic/cute)

[the-whispers-of-death]

What's this, OC x Reader content that hasn't been asked for? More Kali Content? Gasp. Anyways, this is Kali x Ranch Hand!Reader (gender-neutral reader.)

Kali took a left turn, driving away from the city of Austin, Texas and into a more rural part that laid just on the outskirts of the city. He had come home from a grueling mission, having left his parents to find purpose in the private military company called The Shadow Company.

This would be the first time he had seen them since he joined the Shadow Company eight months ago. He could only hope they were doing well.

He drove to his parents' ranch where he lived with them, because they were in their sixties and needed help around the ranch. He even took care of their bills of up keeping the ranch, hiring ranch hands to help, paid for their electric and water bills. The only thing his parents paid for was for their groceries, hence why he rarely had time for his own paperwork since he was always trying to pay the bills on time even when he was overseas.

It was the middle of the night so when his truck stopped in front of the gates of the ranch, he didn't expect anyone to open them for him. He got out of his truck, leaving the door open and the engine running because the area all around him was his parents' property.

Kali unlocked the padlock that kept the gates closed and grunted from exertion as he pushed the gates opened. Once the gates were open, he got back in his truck and drove inside the field before getting out again to close the gates and lock them back up.

All of this took several minutes and by the time he parked in front of his parents' house, he was slightly out of breath. He was in desperate need of sleep, stumbling out of his truck for the third time that night and barely remembering to take his duffel bag. He made his way onto the porch that had been lovingly built for his mother to sit outside to watch his father work out on the ranch back when they quit their jobs as doctors and became ranchers when Kali enlisted in the Marine Corps at eighteen.

Kali took out his key to the house and paused before placing the key in his left, non-dominant, hand and turned the doorknob with his right hand. He sighed when the door opened, his parents having not locked it for the night.

He told his parents time and time again to lock their front door, that being secluded from everyone besides a neighbor that was several miles away to the left didn't mean that someone couldn't stumble onto the property and rob them, but his words fell on deaf ears. His father told him that despite not being able to work on the field that much, he still could shoot intruders with his trusty hunting rifle.

It did not soothe Kali's worries.

Shoving the key back into his pocket, he very quietly crept inside the house, careful not to wake his parents up. He gently closed the front door behind him, taking off his shoes upon entry and placing them in the shoe rack. He then quietly made his way to his bedroom, opening and closing the door softly.

As soon as he was inside the bedroom, he barely managed to take off his gear before dropping onto his bed and passing out. His sleep was dreamless and he woke up in the early morning to the rooster being his alarm clock.

Kali rolled out of bed, brushed his teeth, showered, and changed into appropriate ranch clothes. He exchanged his half-black-half-blue mask and black neck gaiter for a black cowboy hat and cowboy boots, getting right back into the habit of going out into the field to work.

Once he was properly clothed, he went to the kitchen and ate a hearty breakfast before heading outside. His parents were still sleeping, something that was normal to Kali ever since they aged into their sixties.

He stepped outside and saw the trucks of the ranch hands he had hired, all of them here bright and early. He had no opinion of the ranch hands, besides the fact that they were very good at their jobs and were a tremendous help.

"Mr. Kumar, you're home," a smooth, almost lyrical voice called out to him as he made his way to the chicken coop where a pair of ranch hands were checking on the hens and if they were laying eggs.

It was you, the most experienced ranch hand of the bunch. He admired your work ethic, you both being what was classified as a workhorse since you both did a tremendous amount of work and were always busy. He found himself drawn to you, especially since you did the most when he was away on missions.

He found himself smiling down at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "What did I tell you all about calling me by my name? Mr. Kumar is my father, so please call me Ashok. But yes, I got home last night at an ungodly hour," he said, his tone light-hearted as he chuckled.

You didn't smile back at him, but he was used to that. You rarely showed much emotion on your face. "I'm glad you made it home safely, Ashok," you replied, most likely out of politeness than sincerity.

Or at least that was what Kali thought.

"How are the hens doing?" he asked, clearing his throat and drawing everyone's attention back to the chicken coop. He walked inside, you and the other ranch hand flanking him. "I trust there are no health issues with them?"

"No issues, Mr. Ku—Ashok," you said, stumbling over your words to catch yourself as you fell back on the habit of calling him by his last name. You merely moved on from the mistake, continuing, "All of the hens are healthy and producing a good amount of eggs, more than enough to be sold to the markets and grocery stores. The rooster's doing well too, as I'm sure you heard him when dawn broke."

Kali nodded in approval, still smiling at you with that bright smile. "I'm good. I'm sure you all have been working efficiently on the ranch, but is there anything I can do to help with today? It's a huge amount of property, I know, so maybe there were some tasks that need someone to take care of since there's not that many of you?" he asked, turning to you.

You delegated all of the tasks when he wasn't home, hence why he looked to you. But that was as far as your authority went, because Kali's parents did own this ranch after all.

The other ranch hand spoke up, "{Name} delegated all of the tasks to us already, and it seems like everything that needs to be taken care of has someone who can do it. Besides the paperwork, of course."

Kali's smile faltered briefly before he kept it up on his face. "Of course," he said.

He was a bit disappointed, having wanted to relax by doing ranch work. He was most at peace when he was out in the field, watching over the herd of cows and sheep or fixing parts of the fence that separated his parents' property from the neighbor's. Getting his hands dirty was something familiar and he found solace in it.

But he supposed paperwork was an important part of ranching too. Not every part of ranching was enjoying Mother Nature, there were bills to pay, livestock to sell and trade. Every job had a downside.

He did hate paperwork though, military or ranch paperwork, it didn't quite matter. It was tedious and he much preferred working outside. He got too many paper cuts when he sat in the office in his parents' house to do paperwork.

However, he didn't feel comfortable putting it on his parents' shoulders even though they still owned the ranch. He had resolved himself to lighten their burden and that included doing the dreaded paperwork.

"Right, okay. Well, I'll come out and check on you all every hour or so, make sure it's all running smoothly," Kali said, forcing himself to head towards the house."Maybe I'll help mend a fence today when you're all busy."

He went inside the house and after saying good morning to his parents, he sat in the office. And outside the window of said office, he could see you taking out the cows so they could graze and roam.

It was a shame, he had been looking forward to being around you more.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[fever-daydream]

Fever-Daydream Request Rules and Information

1. At this time, I will not write smut. I am okay writing more suggestive topics and may be open to writing smut in the future, but not right now.

2. Along with smut, I will not write large age gaps, extreme gore or violence, abuse of any kind, or any stories involving hateful rhetorics towards any group of people.

3. Though I will write stories about real life people, I won’t write about ships between real life people (ex. Joshler, Frerard, etc.). I am all for shipping, but it is just not something I personally am comfortable writing.

4. All “x Reader” pairings will be “x Fem! Reader” unless a gender neutral reader is explicitly asked for. I will not write “x Masc! Reader”. This is due to the fact that I am a cis female and do not feel like I can accurately do so.

5. If you request a romantic pairing between two characters, they must both be canonically legal adults (18+). In all requests that are x reader, the reader will be at least 18 years old, even if the pairing is platonic.

6. I am a graduate student. Though I will strive to get requests done as fast as possible, I have no specific timeline that can be expected. I ask that you give me grace. Constant asking about when I will fulfill a request will result in the request being denied. If this happens multiple times, you will be blocked.

7. I have the right to deny any request if I feel uncomfortable with the subject matter and/or it does not follow the above stated rules.

These rules may be updated at any time and are not all encompassing.

Who I Write For

Movies and TV Shows

Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Javy “Coyote” Machado

Twisters

Tyler Owens

Boone

Scott

Javi

Mission: Impossible (Movie Series)

Ethan Hunt

William Brandt

Star Wars Universe

Poe Dameron

Cassian Andor

Anakin Skywalker

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Han Solo

Finn

Bodhi Rook

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Steve Rodgers (Captain America)

Sam Wilson (Falcon/Captain America)

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

Peter Quill (Starlord)

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Scott Lang (Antman)

T’Challa (Black Panther)

Grant Ward (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D)

Howard Stark (Agent Carter/Captain America: The First Avenger)

Loki

Thor

American Satan/Paradise City

Johnny Faust

Vic Lakota

Leo Donovan

Dylan James

Bands

Twenty One Pilots

Tyler Joseph/Clancy

Josh Dun/Torchbearer

Black Veil Brides

Andy Biersack/The Prophet

CC/The Destroyer

Lonny Eagleton/The Redeemer

Jake Pitts/The Mourner

Jinxx/The Mystic

My Chemical Romance

Gerard Way/Party Poison

Mikey Way/Kobra Kid

Frank Iero/Fun Ghoul

Ray Toro/Jet Star

Palaye Royale

Remington Leith/Aldous Blackwell

Emerson Barrett/Alan Blackwell

Sebastian Danzig/Fredrick Blackwell

If you do not see a person or character on this list, feel free to message or send me an ask! I am a fan of many things!

[bluebirdsboi]

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist | Last Updated: 6/12/23

Key

Fluff = 🥰 | Angst = 😢 | Smut = 🥵 | Hurt Comfort = 🩹 Platonic = 🤝 Headcanons = 📝 | ABC Headcanons = 👩‍🏫 | Oneshot = 📘 | Series = 📚 AU = 🌎 | Songfic = 🎵 Male Reader = 💙 | Gender Neutral Reader = 💜 | Female x Female = 💖 Story on hold = ✋ | Character on hold = 🔒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (Miles Teller) 

Coming soon...

Jake “Hangman” Seresin (Glen Powell)

Coming soon...

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia (Danny Ramirez)

Coming soon...

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (Tom Cruise)

Coming soon...

Robert “Bob” Floyd (Lewis Pullman)

Coming soon...

[yearofcreation2023]

Year of Themed Creations: July 2023 Collection (in progress)

WORDS:

When It Comes To You by @flightlessangelwings - Year of Protectiveness Dialogue prompt- “ you need to get out of here! go! i’ll buy you some more time!“ Action prompt- [ REUNION ]: after spending a considerable length of time apart, the sender reunites with the receiver after saving their life from an immediate and potentially lethal threat. (Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader)

Not All Heroes Wear Capes by @all-the-things-2020 - Year of Fandom Crossovers Lt. Marcus Moreno is posted to the Enterprise after a stint at Starfleet headquarters. His daughter Missy is eager to go but is he ready to return to space after losing his wife? (Marcus Moreno)

Love at First Fight by @ironmandeficiency - Year of Idiots after a tavern visit, you seriously consider getting your eyes checked when you mistake an unassuming dwarf for your best friend’s ex. (bofur / reader)

Full-Time Problem by @never--doubt - Year of Soulmates In a universe where everyone has timers that freeze when they meet their soulmates, it's hard to focus on that when a war is brewing. What will Rey and Finn do when they figure out that Poe has already found his soulmate? (Poe Dameron x Female!Reader)

A Chance Taken by @ghostofskywalker - Year of Flowers It took a long time to get over the boy that you used to spend time with in the Senate building, but your lives took you in separate directions. But when he shows up during the Clone Wars with a dire warning for your planet, you don’t want to let him go without telling him how you feel. (Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader)

Something Soft by @keldabe-kriff - Year of Small Joys More attempts at feeling out moments between Joel and Ellie, placed at a point when they have more trust in each other. Other than that it isn't any specific point in the timeline of the show. (Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, no pairing)

Is This How It Ends? Pt. 4 by @artemiseamoon - Year of Whump Memories from the past haunt Rhea as she reflects on a moment that could be the cause of Santiago's personality change. (Santiago, OC Rhea, Frankie Morales)

First Dance by @hopeamarsu - Year of Firsts You find yourself with the Red Viper of Dorne. What would you ask from him? (Oberyn Martell x gn!reader)

Saying I Love You Through An Accidental Kiss by @songsformonkeys - Year of Saying I Love You  I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. Unbeta'd. (Joel Miller x reader Pre outbreak)

Buck Moon by @grogusmum - Wheel of the Year This is a companion to my one shot Your Spot Okay, I should admit from the jump. This is not all that pagany. It’s smut. Sorry. But not really. Oops. I just, okay, this is what happened on Frankie Friday, I was thinking about him and Rocket. I also kind of got interested in the challenge of writing a smut for a gender neutral reader, if I could manage it. Fingers crossed. (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Bird Strike by @captainsophiestark - Year of Olympians Prompt: Apollo; light, the sun, truth, inspiration, medicine, healing. Summary: A bird strikes brings Hangman down and leads to confessions from him and Rooster’s sister. (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader)

.

[miyamoratsumuu]

at midnight

↳ kuroo tetsuro being the dork he is, had the audacity to give you butterflies this late in the evening. kuroo tetsuro x gender neutral reader fluff note: <...) is a message from kuroo while (...> is a message from you^^ text in italic are your thoughts

navigation . . . haikyuu masterlist

"Will I really be able to finish this tonight?" You thought to yourself as you glanced over at your list of assignments, projects, and whatnot. "Well, it isn’t even 10:30 yet. I could push through with this. It’s the chemistry ones left anyway." That was your attempt to stay optimistic given your current situation.

Minutes passed, and you continued to work through your school tasks for the night. After a while, you paused. Again. "Geez, it feels like these are never-ending." You scanned around your desk until your eyes landed on your phone resting beside you. "Hm. Taking a break wouldn’t hurt now, would it?" With that, you grabbed your phone, unlocked it, and immediately opened a social media app.

It was most likely that you didn’t notice that time passed by so quickly. You only figured that out once you glanced at the top of your phone screen, where the time was displayed. "Huh," you blinked. "IT’S 11 ALREADY?" You turned off the phone and placed it back on your desk. You blame the phone. You blame the personality tests that begged to be answered. You blamed the teasers for a new anime movie that was going to premiere; your blaming was cut off by your phone screen lighting up with a message notification. You looked over to examine whose contact was on the notification. You were surprised, to say the least.

tetsuro !! <wyd?)

(assignments. why?> sent 11:06pm

tetsuro !! <assignments huh)

tetsuro !! <says the one who posted their "which spongebob character are you" test results just 5 minutes ago)

You scoffed and laughed. "Am I really amused just by that? Well, I wouldn’t complain;” For the first time tonight, you answered your own question.

You ended up debating with yourself about whether or not you should show that you were entertained by him. In between your thoughts, a notification appeared on your screen again.

tetsuro !! <you take way too long to reply sometimes, y’know?)

tetsuro !! <and here I was about to offer help with your homework, you lazy butt)

(I’m not lazy, for your information> sent 11:12

tetsuro !! <yeah yeah, u're really hardworking, I know)

Why exactly did that make you smile? God, you could imagine Kuroo’s smirk through the phone. You wish you could just slap it off of him. Despite that, though, you accepted his offer to lend you a hand with your tasks, and so he facetimed you and fulfilled his promise. All the while, sometimes in between, the both of you told each other about your day and shared a few laughs. The two of you finished up a little after 11:50 and ended the call.

(hey, thanks sm again!!> sent 11:56

tetsuro !! <you’re welcome, it’s no problem. Anything for you;) )

“;)” You smiled. Again. But before you could reply, three dots appeared at the bottom left of your screen. He was typing.

tetsuro !! <alright, well it’s really late now lmao)

tetsuro !! <I’ll message you again tomorrow morning before we get to school)

tetsuro !! <gn:) )

Reading the messages, your heart skipped a beat. But before you get carried away with your thoughts again, you typed a reply.

(mkayy, goodnightt!! See u tomorrow:)> sent 12:00

Placing your phone back on the desk, you close your eyes in thought. "How will I be able to get some shut-eye straight away when my heart can’t calm down?" That was another question you didn’t answer. “Damn rooster head” You ended up dozing off quickly anyway.

You never thought you’d feel the most joy at midnight. You really do learn new things every day.

☁︎ were the timestamps on purpose and meant to do something? honestly idek either

[carters-things]

Fly Away With Me

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x GN!Reader

Summary: Date night with Bradley in the stars

Tags: No gendered pronouns or descriptions of physical appearance used except the line "his fingers getting lost in your hair". Just some sweet fluff!

Masterlist

You sat on the bay window with your knees tucked to your chest, your feet rubbing circles on top of each other. The cool breeze from outside drifts in through the open glass, running down your skin leaving goose bumps behind in its trail. You pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and over top of you, being careful not to spill the drink in your hands in the process. You take a sip of your drink as the sun starts to set. You leaned back against the window frames, closing your eyes and basking in the light of golden hour. 

Your mind started to drift as you listened to the sound of the seagulls in the distance. You thought about Bradley. Being in a relationship with someone in the service wasn’t easy. There were more nights spent apart from each other than together. Never have a guaranteed day off, or date night, and plans almost always being moved at least once before they eventually fall through. Occasionally Rooster would be able to make it home, but it was always long after you were asleep. He would crawl into bed next to you, pulling you as close to him as he could, never wanting to let go. Sometimes he could only spend a few hours in bed sleeping with you before having to return to base, but he would soak up every second of quality time he could get. Loving Bradley was worth all of the sacrifices, but peaceful nights like tonight still left a small ache in your chest as his absence. 

The growing volume of music slowly draws you back to reality. Jazz trumpets ring softly from outside. You toss the blanket to the side, a cold shiver rolling across your lap in its absence. You place your drink down on the side table as you examine the empty backyard trying to find out where it’s coming from. 

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…

The lyrics ring in your ears, bringing a smile to your face. Bradley always loved this song and sang it to you on your quiet nights in the house. His chest pressed to your back as he stood behind you, his chin resting perfectly on top of your head. His hands would rest on your hips, slowly swaying the two of you back and forth as he would sing softly. This song being his subtle way of asking you time and time again to be his. 

As you made your way through the house to the front door the music grew louder.

Once I get you up there, I’ll be holding you so near, you may hear, angels cheer, ‘cause we’re together…

You open the front door to see the love of your life before you. It took a second for your mind to process that he was actually here. Leaning against the front porch pole, wearing a half cocked smile, a small bouquet of flowers held carefully in his hands. The aviators sat down his nose just far enough to get a peak of his beautiful brown eyes, a small speaker sitting beside him on the railing. Your hands covered your heart as you took in the entirety of the moment. 

“Bradley…” You started to get choked up as you watched his smile grow larger with each step toward you he took. He set the flowers down on the ground before wrapping you tightly in his arms. You buried your face in his chest, relishing in his scent and warmth. He kissed the top of your head before pulling back and taking your face in his hands. 

“I’ve missed you so much, honey.” He pulls your face closer to his, your lips colliding with the same electricity as the first time he kissed you. You melted into the taste of him, his fingers trailing along your jawline towards your ears. Bradley’s hands flattened out against the side of your head, his fingers getting lost in your hair, as the two of you kept from parting lips.

The need for air finally breaks the moment. Heat rushes to your face, as you let out a small chuckle. "What are you doing home? I didn't think you'd have any time off this week."

"They had to do surprise maintenance on the jets, so they gave us the night. I have a surprise for you." He said taking your hand in his. You didn't question him because you already knew he wouldn't tell you. 

He opened your door before aiding you, even thought you didn't need it, into his bronco. He shut your door before kissing your cheek through the open window. 

With each turn you tried to figure out where he was taking you. The sun has since set, making it harder to figure out his plan in the dark. His hand rested on your thigh, your hand snaked around his wrist to rest on top of his hand in return. The closer you got you realized he was actually taking you to Maverick's hanger, before surely enough pulling onto his road. 

"What are we doing here?" You asked him puzzled. 

"You'll see." He gave your thigh a little pat as he parked the truck beside the building. He hopped put and again opened your door, taking your hand to get you safely to the ground. 

His fingers intertwine with yours as he leads you both towards the runway. You can see a blanket laid out on one of the two tarmacs, candles in Mason jars spread out all around. There was a basket of food, glasses, and a bottle of sparkling cider. 

"Honey! I love it!" You stood on the tops of your toes to kiss his cheek. The two of you took your place on the blanket as he set out plates for you both, serving the finger food meal for each of you. 

You spent the next little bit laughing and talking, eating and sipping in the drinks, just soaking in every minute of this rare quality time you get together. 

Bradley looked up to the sky before sighing softly. "I wanted to give you a meal under the stars, but apparently that didn't work out…" 

You joined his gaze at the sky to see some light clouds had rolled in, covering the shining lights. You rested your hand on his before turning his face towards yours. 

"It's still perfect darling. I love it, and I love you.” You kissed his lips softly, brushing away a fallen curl from his forehead as you broke apart. A mischievous grin lands on his face, yours wearing a concerned look to match. “What…” 

“I have an idea so you can see the stars. Come with me.” He pulls you up to your feet, his pace just short of a jog as he brings you to the bay doors of the hanger. He pulls them wide open to reveal Maverick’s plane, amongst all of his other belongings. 

“You can’t be serious…”

With little to no effort Bradley pulled himself up onto the wings and seated himself in the pilot seat of the plane. It started up with no problems, all lights and gauges reading perfect, so the two of you began to taxi onto the empty tarmac. 

“Maverick is on a sailing trip with Penny. He’ll never know!” Before you could argue

Bradley was already over at the plane, pulling the cover off. As skeptical as you were of his plan, the idea of seeing the stars in the sky, from the sky, was so exciting. So, you helped Bradley get everything prepped before he helped you climb into the backseat. He helped you secure your harness and headset, checking the mic and audio to make sure you could hear him and vice versa. 

“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing? It’s not the same as your fighter jets!” You called hesitantly into the com.

“I helped Mav fix this thing up! I’ve flown it before, don't worry honey.” He did some final checks of pressure levels, flipping switches that you were sure didn’t even do anything except make him look sexy, before the plane began to make its way forward, picking up speed rapidly. 

“Remember what I taught you!” He urged just before lifting off the ground. You were reminded to watch your hands, making sure not to grab anything you shouldn’t out of reaction. As you ascended into the skies you were quickly swallowed by the fluffy clouds. Your heart lurched at how all vision of direction and sense of surroundings was lost, taking in a small sharp breath. 

“It’s alright Honey, we’re almost there.” He reassured, “Ready?”

You tilted your head up to the canopy just as the rounded barrier broke through the clouds. The night sky opened up to reveal every constellation you could imagine. The clouds below blocking out any light, you could have sworn you were in space. 

“Oh my God! It’s amazing!” Your gaze searching all over the sky, never landing in one spot for too long. Rooster laughed over the radio at your amazement, pointing out the handful of constellations he knows. You could have stayed in the sky for hours, but after a while it was time to return to the ground. 

After a graceful landing, and a short taxi, you pulled into the hanger to see Maverick sitting in one of his chairs. He stood to meet you both as you deplaned, the wonder and amazement still flowing through you. 

“So you’re stealing planes now?” 

“I learned from the best!” Maverick crossed his arms and let out a soft chuckle. He couldn’t be too mad seeing as he “borrowed” a navy property F-18 to take Penny on a joy ride back in the day. 

He gave Rooster a look, but after seeing the way your face lit up, he dropped his tough guy act. He laughed and patted Rooster on the shoulder, before leaving the two of you to finish closing up the plane. This night was everything you could have hoped for and more.

Flight Crew

@someplace-darker

@nelleicrain

@murrdxcks

@sobachka-korol