Just a Miles Teller, Glen Powell, TGM and Disney loving dork. 80s baby and I tend to reblog adult content so 18+ only please! Masterlist Pinned to top of page!
Two brothers pursue the American Dream but get entangled in a dangerous Russian mafia scheme that terrorizes their family, testing their bond as betrayal becomes possible.
Two brothers pursue the American Dream but get entangled in a dangerous Russian mafia scheme that terrorizes their family, testing their bond as betrayal becomes possible.
Battlefield Debuts First-Ever Entertainment Collaboration with Paramount's Record-Breaking Franchise, Featuring All-Star Talent from Top Gun: Maverick for Battlefield 6 and REDSEC. Available August 18th, 2026.
From EA press release and Season 4 Naval Gameplay Deep Dive on youtube
crawling back to you — bradley bradshaw (part one)
inspired by: do i wanna know? – hozier (arctic monkeys cover)
word count: 11,538 words
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x ex-wife!reader
synopsis: eight months after signing the divorce papers, bradley sees you again at mav and penny’s wedding. it’s supposed to be simple. small talk and nothing serious, but the thing is, the love never really left.
content warnings: angst, divorce, emotional tension, alcohol mention, unresolved feelings, secondhand embarrassment, complicated feelings toward a new relationship, mentions of past arguments, slow burn
author's note: inspired by hozier’s cover of “do i wanna know?” so this fic is basically that one line in slow motion: maybe i’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. part two is coming soon. let me know if you want to be on the taglist. thanks!
kofi︱request︱masterlist
︱ NEXT PART ⇉
If someone had asked Bradley Bradshaw ten years ago where he would be right now, most people would have said somewhere on the long stretch of California’s coast, maybe Long Beach, with his wife and three kids running through the sand, a dog chasing behind them as the sun dipped low behind their little beach house.
Maybe others would have said he’d still be flying, maybe he’d be retired by now, teaching at the Academy, grilling on weekends, planning family trips to visit your parents. Almost everyone would’ve imagined him settled, surrounded by the life he spent his twenties trying to build.
But no one would have pictured this.
He sat alone in the dining room, in the same chair he always used, elbows resting lightly on the edge of the table that had once held takeout cartons and birthday cakes and that one really awful attempt at homemade pasta.
Now it just held a stack of papers, neatly clipped together, waiting. The pen next to them felt heavy in a way that had nothing to do with its weight. The silence in the room stretched long, quiet in a way that made his skin crawl.
The kind of quiet that used to feel peaceful when she was sitting across from him, hair messy from bed, nursing her first cup of coffee, music humming low from the radio by the window.
Now, the radio was gone. She took it last week, said something about how it always picked up her favorite stations better anyway. A box had gone with it. The same box that took the mugs they bought together on that trip to Santa Cruz.
At the time, it felt silly to fight over coffee mugs. Now, he wished he had. At least that would’ve meant talking.
He looked around slowly. The space wasn’t empty yet, but it felt like it. Her jacket wasn’t on the back of the chair anymore. The little dish she used for her rings wasn’t on the counter. The fridge was still plastered with pictures, but the ones of the two of them had started disappearing one by one. There was a gap now where the photo from Catalina used to be, the one where they were squinting in the sun, grinning like idiots with wind-whipped hair and sand stuck to their legs.
He let out a quiet breath and leaned back, dragging a hand over his face.
It hadn't started with something big. That was the worst part. There was no explosion, no one-night betrayal, no secret waiting to be unearthed. Just slow shifts. Mornings where they forgot to say goodbye. Dinners eaten in silence. A pause before touching, before reaching, like permission needed to be asked every time.
At first, he thought it was just the stress; the deployment, the promotion, the move, all of it. Then, it kept going. The distance held, even when they were sitting side by side.
Fights started creeping in after that. Short ones, quiet ones. Not yelling, never that, just clipped voices and unfinished sentences. Things left hanging. Then the longer ones, the kind where they both said things they didn’t mean but couldn’t take back. Accusations that weren’t exactly wrong, but they weren’t fair either.
And through it all, he kept thinking they’d figure it out. They always had before.
With time, the distance between them kept increasing. Not because they put in no effort, but perhaps because they didn’t know the right methods to try anymore or perhaps due to no one having the willingness to say, I want to make sure you stay in my life.
Now the words were useless.
He stared at the papers again. They looked so normal. Just ink and lines and boxes checked off. Legal language and dates. Places to sign. There was even a sticky note she’d left with her initials, pointing out the sections that still needed him. It was neat, unemotional, and efficient.
The kind of thing you do when you’ve already cried about it in a car alone somewhere and you don’t want to cry again in front of the person you used to call home.
It used to be easy. Not perfect, never that, but easy in the way love sometimes is when it’s built on a thousand small things that feel like nothing until they’re gone. Like how she’d always steal his socks and never admit it, even when they were clearly bunched up over her ankles.
Or how she’d hum when she cooked, even if she was just microwaving leftovers. How she’d talk to him from another room like he was right next to her, and he’d answer without thinking, as if their voices knew how to find each other no matter the distance.
Now, it was quiet. Very quiet.
Not just in the room, but in the way the house felt. Like it was holding its breath, waiting for a sound that wasn’t coming. No drawers opening. No laughter from the bathroom. No dishes clinking in the sink. Even the damn dog seemed to be sleeping more, like he could sense there was no one left to toss his scraps under the table.
Bradley shifted in his chair, glancing toward the living room. From where he sat, he could still see the corner of the couch where she used to curl up with a blanket and a book, her feet tucked under her, one hand always reaching for his thigh when he sat beside her. The blanket was gone now, too. Probably packed away in one of the boxes she moved to her sister’s place.
It was strange. The house still smelled like her shampoo, still carried the faint scent of the candles she liked, those woodsy ones with names like “Mountain Lodge” or “Amber Smoke,” but she wasn’t here, and the echo of her presence just made it worse.
Then he thought about the last night she was here. Not the one where she told him she was leaving. Not the night she cried in the hallway and said she didn’t know what else to do. No, the one before all that, when they were both pretending. They ate dinner in front of the TV and barely said anything. He thinks they watched a movie, but he couldn’t remember which one. She had fallen asleep before it ended, head on his shoulder. And he just sat there, staring at the screen, not moving, not waking her up, thinking if he stayed still enough, maybe she wouldn’t leave at all.
But of course she did. The next morning she was gone before he even woke up. Left a note on the kitchen counter that just said, Call me when you’re ready to talk.
Now here he was, weeks later, still trying to figure out what the hell to say.
He didn’t touch the papers. Just looked at them. The pen sat beside them like it was mocking him. He could hear her voice in his head, calm and tired, saying this was the best thing for both of them. That it wasn’t working anymore. That they were just hurting each other. That maybe one day, they could be something else.
Friends, kind, civil, but he didn’t want to be civil. He wanted to be stupid and messy and reckless if it meant they could still be them.
But that version of them felt like a dream now. Something he remembered too fondly to trust.
He pushed back from the table slightly, just enough for the chair to creak beneath him, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. It startled the dog asleep by the door, who lifted his head and blinked at him like even he was confused by how different everything felt. Bradley didn’t say anything, just gave him a slow blink back before resting his head in his hands.
This wasn’t what he wanted. Not the way things ended, not the distance that had somehow grown so quietly between them, like fog slipping in while they were asleep. They were supposed to notice it, catch it before it thickened, but by the time they really saw it, they couldn’t see each other through it anymore.
It’s not like he didn’t try. He showed up, didn’t he? Came home, paid attention, asked questions. Maybe not always the right ones, but he tried. There were good days. Quiet mornings with her hand on his back, quick kisses before work, moments that felt like the way they used to be, but the good days were getting harder to reach. Like trying to catch a wave at the wrong time, always too early or too late.
He thought about the birthday she spent alone because he was stuck on base during a surprise inspection. The way she smiled and said it was fine, that she understood, but her eyes didn’t match her voice. Or that weekend he came back from deployment and all she said was, “You’re late,” because the dinner she made had gone cold waiting. He hadn’t known how to tell her that he had driven like hell just to get home in time and still missed it. That the thing eating at him wasn’t the cold dinner but the way she hadn’t hugged him first.
Little moments like that had piled up. Meanwhile, they stopped reaching for each other. Not out of anger, just fatigue. The kind that makes you stare at someone you love and feel like you’re speaking different languages. He had learned how to be silent without meaning to. She had learned how to walk away without slamming the door.
His eyes flicked back down to the documents. Her name was there, printed in clean lines. The name he used to say out loud when he was half asleep, the name he scribbled on cards and notes and once, stupidly, in a heart carved into a wooden bench during a layover in Virginia. He wondered if that bench was still there. If anyone ever noticed.
He glanced around the room again, then leaned back in his chair, arms crossed loosely over his chest. The dining room used to be loud. Late dinners, music playing too loud, card games, spilled wine, the occasional burnt meal followed by laughter when the fire alarm chirped for attention. They had people over, once. Friends, teammates, family. There was a life here. Now it was just a space with too many chairs and too much air between them.
He could still see her sitting across from him, bare feet tucked under her, twisting her ring around her finger without realizing it. That habit used to drive him a little crazy. She always did it when she was thinking hard or worried about something. It wasn’t until near the end that he noticed she’d stopped doing it altogether.
So what was he gonna do now? Just sit here all night staring at a stack of paper until the sun came up? Pretend like maybe if he avoided it long enough it’d all go away? That she’d come back through the front door, toss her keys in the dish by the counter like nothing had happened, like they hadn’t spent months slowly undoing everything they built?
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, sighed once, heavy and worn, and leaned forward again, elbows on the table. The pen hadn’t moved. Still right there, waiting like it knew something he didn’t.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this coming. She’d said the words. More than once. Quietly at first, like she was afraid to break them just by saying it. Then firmer. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired. We’re not us.
And he’d nodded. Maybe that was the worst part. He hadn’t fought. Not the way he should’ve. He told himself he didn’t want to make it worse. That pushing would only drive her further away. But maybe he’d just been scared. Too scared to admit that he didn’t know how to fix it either.
He could hear her voice even now, low and steady in his memory. “You don’t even talk to me anymore, Bradshaw. You just… sit there. Like you’re waiting for me to do something.”
And maybe he had been. Waiting for her to say the right thing. Waiting for something to change. Waiting for her to say she didn’t mean it, that she still wanted to try. But all that waiting had gotten them here.
He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers, like the cracks in the plaster could point him in some kind of direction. The house felt too big now. The silence inside it is too loud. And the worst part? She wasn’t mad at him. Not anymore. Maybe she had been, at one point. Maybe he’d deserved it, but now it just felt like she had let go completely. That whatever anger was left had burned out long before she packed her things.
And what the hell was he supposed to do with that?
The air felt thick all of a sudden, like the walls were leaning in, like the quiet wasn’t just around him but inside his chest too. Bradley swallowed hard and stood up too fast, the chair legs scraping loud against the hardwood. His stomach twisted in that sharp, wrong way it sometimes did after a long flight when the g-force still hadn’t left his bones. He pressed his palms flat to the table, breathing through his nose, willing himself not to throw up right there on the floor.
Jesus Christ. This was really happening.
His vision blurred for a second, not from tears but from the pure, sick weight of it all finally dropping full-force. This wasn’t just a bad stretch. This wasn’t a fight they’d get over in a few days. She wasn’t coming home. There wasn’t going to be some late-night knock on the door, no soft voice saying, “I didn’t mean it. Let’s talk.”
She meant it. She had been calm, steady, already gone long before her things were packed.
He braced himself against the edge of the table and stayed there for a moment, head bowed like he was trying to pray through it, though he wasn’t sure he remembered how to. All he knew was that his chest felt too full, his throat too tight, like if he opened his mouth even a little, every goddamn feeling he’d been swallowing down for months would pour out of him and never stop.
He didn’t want to cry, and did not want to break down, not like this, not over a piece of paper, but that’s what made it worse, wasn’t it? It was just paper. A couple of signatures. A date. A legal stamp. So clean and final, like everything they went through could be reduced to initials and lines.
Bradley sat back down slowly. His hand reached for the pen without thinking. The movement felt far away, like it wasn’t even his.
And then, he signed. He didn’t pause and hesitate. The ink moved across the page and sealed it, then that was it. There was no fanfare, no last-minute epiphany. Just his name, right where she’d left space for it.
He let the pen fall to the table, the small clatter louder than it had any right to be, and stared at the signature like it might vanish if he blinked, but it didn’t.
He had really done it. Signed away a decade of his life with one quick flick of his hand.
Bradley leaned back again, exhaled through his nose, and dragged both hands down his face, his fingers lingering over his eyes like they might block out the sight in front of him.
There was nothing left to do.
Eight Months Later
The beach was already buzzing by the time Bradley arrived. Someone had set up rows of white folding chairs in the sand, facing the ocean, with little strings of lights hanging between the palms. The late afternoon sun cast everything in a soft gold, and there was that lazy kind of wind that tugged at shirts and made hair impossible to keep in place. Music was playing low from a speaker stuck in the sand near the chairs. The whole thing looked like a magazine cover.
Bradley ran a hand through his hair and adjusted the sleeves of his white dress shirt, freshly ironed but already starting to wrinkle from the humidity. The jacket they gave him was somewhere in the little bungalow Penny rented behind the Hard Deck, but he hadn't bothered putting it on yet. Too hot, too early. He walked toward the side tent where most of the guys were getting ready, slipping past a few guests who were already milling around with champagne flutes.
Jake was there, of course, standing in front of a mirror with sunglasses perched on top of his head and a smug smile he hadn’t taken off since he landed that morning. “Look at you,” he said the moment he spotted Bradley. “Took you long enough. What’d you do, steam that shirt with your tears?”
Bradley rolled his eyes and dropped his phone onto the small bar cart in the corner. “Good to see you too, Seresin.”
Jake turned back to the mirror and fixed his tie, not that it needed fixing. “You look nervous. Should I be worried?”
“I’m not the one getting married,” Bradley muttered, reaching for a bottle of water and cracking it open. He drank half of it before Jake responded.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Jake said, still grinning. “Walking down the aisle solo, standing next to the groom, shirt half unbuttoned like you’re about to pour your heart out in front of everyone. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was your big day.”
Bradley didn’t answer right away. He took another sip, then leaned back against the table and looked toward the open flap of the tent where the sunlight poured in. “Just trying to make sure Mav doesn’t trip over his own feet.”
“Is he nervous?” Jake asked, more curious now, less teasing.
Bradley shrugged. “Not really. He’s been weirdly calm. Thought he’d make a run for it at least once.”
At that, Maverick’s voice came from behind them. “Still got time.”
They both turned to see him standing near the entrance, buttoning the last of his shirt with a quiet kind of focus. His hair was still wet from a shower and there was a fresh scrape on his knuckle, probably from whatever mechanical thing he couldn’t leave alone that morning. He looked better than expected. Relaxed. Even happy.
Bradley raised his eyebrows. “You sure about this?”
Maverick gave a short laugh. “Too late to back out now. Penny would hunt me down.”
Jake nodded solemnly. “She would. And she’d make it hurt.”
Maverick smirked and moved to grab a beer from the cooler. “Thanks for the support, boys.”
The three of them stood in comfortable silence for a minute, just listening to the wind and the waves and the occasional shout from someone trying to wrangle a group of flower girls near the bungalow.
Then Maverick turned to Bradley. “You got the rings?”
Bradley patted his pocket. “Yeah. I left one at the bar earlier, but it was just a test.”
Maverick smiled. “You're a real comfort.”
More people had started to gather now, the chairs filling up in the background, someone adjusting the speakers. Bradley caught glimpses of familiar faces moving through the crowd. Natasha was there, helping a flower girl fix her little floral crown. Bob stood awkwardly near the drinks table with someone’s baby in his arms, looking terrified. And through the open door of the bungalow, he saw Penny for a moment, laughing at something someone said as she ducked into a back room.
Then, he saw you.
You were by the far corner of the porch, surrounded by the other bridesmaids, holding a champagne flute in one hand and your shoes in the other. Your dress matched the sunset behind you, soft and easy. You were smiling at something, something light, something that made your head tilt the way it always did when you were trying not to laugh too hard.
Bradley froze, just for a second. Not visibly. Not in any way someone would notice. But it hit him all the same. Eight months gone and still it caught him off guard.
Jake followed his gaze, then elbowed him lightly. “Didn’t know she was gonna be here?”
Bradley shook his head once. “I figured.”
“You alright?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Yeah, I’m good.”
A few minutes later, someone with a clipboard and a headset shouted for the groomsmen to line up. Jake clapped Maverick on the shoulder and took his spot near the front. Maverick looked at Bradley with a raised eyebrow, like he was waiting for a last-minute pep talk.
Bradley just smirked a little. “You’ve survived worse.”
Then, he stepped out into the light.
The music had shifted to something instrumental, soft and slow. People turned in their chairs as he walked down the aisle alone, sand shifting under his shoes. He kept his eyes straight ahead, expression calm, steady, like this was just another ceremony, another job to do. He moved to his place at the front and stood beside Maverick, the two of them quiet now as the music played on and the bridal party lined up just out of sight.
The music shifted again, something a little lighter now, with more rhythm and warmth, the kind of song that sounded like it belonged to a memory. Guests leaned slightly to one side as the first bridesmaid stepped into view, her feet careful in the sand, bouquet held low against her dress. She smiled at someone in the crowd, maybe her parents or someone she hadn’t seen in a while, and made her way slowly down the aisle. The next girl followed after, then another. The chatter quieted, just the gentle rustle of fabric and the muffled shuffle of sand underfoot.
Bradley kept his eyes forward at first, watching the line of bridesmaids move slowly down the aisle like waves pulling toward shore. He kept his hands loosely clasped in front of him and let the sound of the music fill the space between his thoughts. Then, as the last few came into view, he let himself look again, careful not to make it obvious. He already knew who would be last.
In the meantime, you stepped from the palm trees' cover at the edge of the clearing, sunshine glinting barely over your shoulder. You hesitated for a moment before walking down the aisle, and your dress swayed slightly with the air. He saw it. That brief silence. It was plenty to tighten something in his chest, though he wasn't sure whether anyone else did.
Then, you walked forward.
And just like that, it was all there again. The way the light framed you, the way your eyes stayed focused ahead without really landing on anything, like you were moving on instinct alone. It wasn’t the same dress. The day wasn’t the same either, but somehow it still felt like it. It hit him in a place he hadn’t touched in months, quiet and deep and familiar. Like standing in the wreckage of something and still recognizing the smell of home.
The first time you walked toward him, your bouquet had been trembling just slightly in your hands. He remembered that. You were trying not to cry and failing, and he hadn’t cared. He’d grinned like a fool when he saw you and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking into tears himself.
That day had felt too big to fit inside either of you, like it had cracked something open, something soft and vulnerable that had made all the vows feel impossibly real. He had never been more sure of anything in his life.
Now, standing here again, he felt like a ghost watching someone else’s memory.
You didn’t look at him. Not directly. Maybe you saw him from the corner of your eye. Maybe not. You smiled at someone in the crowd again, just a quick one, polite and automatic. Then, you stepped into place beside the others and adjusted the flowers in your hands. It was all practiced, all smooth. Not a hair out of place. Nothing in your face gave you away.
Bradley blinked and looked ahead again, this time at the stretch of aisle that remained empty, waiting. Somewhere in front of him, Maverick shifted his weight, probably readying himself for Penny’s entrance. The guests leaned in a little, the music softened, and the breeze carried the smell of salt and warm sand across the front rows. It was almost time.
But Bradley was still stuck in that split-second stretch of the past, remembering what it felt like when he used to be the one standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for you.
The rest of the ceremony passed like a blur, the kind that gets soft around the edges, where moments slip into each other without asking. Penny walked down the aisle glowing, barefoot in the sand, hair swept back with little seashell pins that shimmered in the sun. Maverick looked at her like she was the only thing he’d ever needed to get right.
Their vows were simple, heartfelt, barely loud enough to carry over the breeze. Penny’s voice wavered when she promised to love him with steadiness, and Maverick laughed when he said she was the bravest woman he’d ever met for agreeing to put up with him for good.
Meanwhile, Bradley found himself watching you more than anything else. It wasn’t intentional. He’d blink, shift his eyes back to the couple in front of him, but then something would pull him sideways again.
You were standing still, holding your bouquet close, and smiling so softly at Penny and Mav like you weren’t just happy for them but full to the brim with it. It wasn’t the kind of smile you faked for a photo or put on for appearances. It was real, quiet joy. And it looked so much like the one you wore eight years ago when you stood in front of him and whispered I do.
Before he could stop himself, Bradley found his mind slipping backward, the sounds of this beach wedding fading under the weight of memory. He could hear his own voice again, trembling only slightly as he held your hands and recited the words he wrote the night before. I will love you in every version of this life, in the calm and in the storm, in every room we fill, and every silence we survive. He remembered how you looked at him then, eyes glassy but steady, your thumb brushing over his knuckles the entire time like you were reminding him you were there.
Now, standing just a few feet away from you, hearing someone else speak their forever out loud, Bradley felt it all crack back open. He watched the tears welling in your eyes and the way you blinked slowly to keep them from falling.
Every instinct in him, old and worn down but never quite dead, screamed to move toward you. He wanted to reach over, press his hand to the side of your face, whisper something only you would understand. Tell you he remembered everything. That he still meant every word. That even now, after all of it, you were still the best thing he ever called his.
But then, the cheers erupted. A rush of sound filled the beach as Maverick leaned in and kissed Penny, soft and sure and grinning like an idiot. The crowd clapped and whooped, some standing, others tossing little palm petals into the air like confetti.
Bradley snapped back to the present and raised his hands, clapping along, voice caught in his throat. Beside him, Jake gave a triumphant whistle and grinned, throwing an arm briefly around Bradley’s shoulders before raising both arms in the air like they’d just won something. He smiled, nodded, letting the joy settle in the space around them.
Then, Bradley looked over, but you were already looking at him.
There was a look in your eyes.
Bradley knew it right away, before he even had time to think. It was quiet, but it hit him hard. The kind of look that didn’t say anything out loud but still knocked the air out of him. You weren’t smiling anymore, not the way you were before, and there was something behind your eyes that made it hard to breathe.
Not angry, not even sad really, just... something soft and heavy. Like you were asking a question without needing to say it. Like you were thinking, Are we really here? Is this really what we became?
And it killed him, because he remembered that look too well. He used to see it in the mornings, when you’d roll over half-asleep and reach for him. When you’d sit on the couch in silence after a long day and just lean into his side. When you looked at him like he was the one place you could always land. It used to make him feel steady. Sure.
Now it just made him feel like he was standing in a version of his life that didn’t belong to him anymore.
He wanted to say something. Anything. Just lean over and ask if you were thinking what he was thinking, if it still sat in your chest the way it did in his. If you ever thought about reaching out. If you ever stopped missing it. If there was even a small part of you that wanted to come back.
But he didn’t move, and speak. He just stood there, stuck, like if he blinked too long he might fall straight through the moment.
Then, you looked away, just like that. Your eyes shifted somewhere else, and you turned your face toward the crowd, like whatever that was had passed. Maybe it had, and maybe it was never there to begin with.
He looked away too, jaw tight, chest a little hollow, like something had just slipped through his fingers and he hadn’t even been holding it.
After that, everything else blurred together.
The ceremony faded into laughter and music, people hugging and moving in every direction, the beach shifting under dozens of feet. Someone popped champagne near the front row and the bottle flew too far, landing harmlessly in the sand. Penny had her arms wrapped around Amelia, the two of them swaying with their foreheads pressed together for a second before the crowd closed in. Maverick looked stunned in the best way, like he couldn’t believe he made it this far without screwing it up.
Then the sun dipped low and the whole sky went warm and gold, and suddenly there were tables set up near the edge of the deck, little candles flickering inside glass jars, and trays of food passed around in every direction.
The reception stretched right into the evening without anyone really noticing the shift. Music played from the corner speakers someone had half-buried in the sand, and there was that smell of salt and citrus and cake that made everything feel soft around the edges.
Bradley stuck close to the bar for a while, mostly out of habit. He nursed a drink that had gone warm and barely touched the food on his plate. He smiled when people talked to him. He laughed when he was supposed to.
The kind of night where everything moved around him and he stayed still, like the eye of the storm. He didn’t mind. He was happy for Maverick, and that was real, but the part of him still buzzing from earlier, the part still stuck in that look you gave him, couldn’t quite settle.
Eventually, someone clanged a fork against a glass, and a few voices shouted that it was time for speeches. Bradley turned his head, already feeling that secondhand dread rise in his chest. He didn’t have anything written down, not really. He thought maybe he’d say a few quick words, keep it light, hand it off to someone else who could steal the show.
Jake found him not even ten seconds later, already holding a beer in one hand and looking smug as hell. He leaned in close. “Alright, bro, you’re up.”
Bradley blinked. “What do you mean I’m up?”
Jake took a long drink, shrugged. “I didn’t memorize mine. I figured you go first and I’ll follow. Classic wingman strategy.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It is now.”
Bradley gave him a long, flat look. “You’re the worst.”
Jake grinned. “And you’re the best man. So, go be best.”
Bradley sighed, set his drink down, and wiped his palms quickly on the sides of his pants before stepping forward. Someone handed him a mic. Penny shouted something encouraging from across the tables. Maverick gave him a half-serious salute.
He cleared his throat once and looked out at the crowd. Then his eyes found you—somewhere near the middle, sitting with a champagne flute between your hands, looking straight at him. You didn’t smile, not right away. You just waited.
“Alright,” he started, his voice just loud enough to carry, “I was told, at the very last minute, I might add, that I’d be kicking this off. Thanks, Bagman.”
There was some laughter while Jake raised his drink in mock appreciation.
“So…uh, where I do start, ha…” Bradley adjusted the mic a little, then looked down at the sand for a second like he was finding his footing. The first few lines still came the same, light and easy, just enough to draw out laughter, but then his voice shifted, softened slightly, and the words carried a little deeper.
“When you’ve known someone as long as I’ve known Mav,” he said, “you start to think you’ve seen every version of them. The reckless one, the grounded one, the one who shows up when it counts, even when you wish he wouldn’t.”
A few people chuckled. Maverick laughed under his breath, already shaking his head.
“But then one day, you watch him look at someone like they hung the moon, and you realize there’s still more to see. There’s still growth. There’s still love that changes people. And that’s what Penny brought into his life.”
He turned briefly toward her. “Thank you for that. For giving him a home. For making room for all of us in it.”
Then he looked back at Maverick, slower now. “I don’t think I ever said this before, but... thank you. For watching out for me, even when I didn’t want you to. For carrying more than your share. For not giving up on the promise you made to someone else’s son.”
He paused, just for a breath. “My dad would’ve liked today. He would’ve made some awful toast, probably cried halfway through it. But he’d be proud of you. And proud of this life you built. I know I am.”
The words hung there, not too heavy, but full enough to shift the mood.
“And look, not to get too serious at a beach wedding with free alcohol,” he said, letting the edges of a smile tug at his mouth, “but it’s a rare thing, to see someone choose love over and over again. Not just once. Not just when it’s easy. But every day.”
His eyes moved over the crowd, then flicked, almost without thinking, to you, but just for a second.
“So here’s to that. To choosing love, even when it scares the hell out of you. Even when it doesn’t look the way you thought it would. That’s where the good stuff lives.”
He raised his glass. “To Penny and Mav!”
The crowd followed with a cheer, and Bradley stepped back down, handing the mic off with a quiet breath that shook just slightly as it left his lungs. Then, Jake stood, already laughing. “Well, great. Follow that.”
Then, once Jake had finished his speech with a dramatic bow and a wink toward Penny that made the whole table groan, the mic started making its way down to some of Maverick’s old Navy friends.
A few stood up one by one, most of them a little sunburnt and slightly buzzed, swapping stories that walked the line between admiration and whatever could still be legally shared in front of a crowd. They talked about deployments, late-night landings, dumb bets on aircraft carriers, and Maverick’s talent for pissing off higher-ups and somehow coming out of it clean. Even a couple guys he’d apparently rubbed the wrong way years back stood up, and while their speeches weren’t exactly warm, they had that same gruff, backhanded kind of respect that said everything without getting too sentimental.
Bradley laughed along with the rest of the crowd, but his attention kept drifting. The wind had picked up just a little now that the sun was lower, tossing strands of hair into faces and catching the corners of napkins, and someone behind him was already trying to light a citronella candle that absolutely wasn’t staying lit. It was that in-between part of the reception where people were full from dinner, halfway through their drinks, and just waiting for the next round of speeches to carry them into dancing.
That was when the bridesmaids were called up.
Someone stood to help the maid of honor, who was crouched by the edge of the deck trying to convince her kid to release a death grip on a bread roll. She gave a panicked shake of her head when someone pointed the mic her way, and the next thing anyone knew, you were already on your feet.
As you stood, you passed off your glass, gave your dress a quick smooth like muscle memory, and walked toward the front with a quiet sort of calm that didn’t ask for attention but got it anyway. There was a little shift in the noise, just for a second. Nothing dramatic. Just a subtle, collective pause. People knew who you were. Or they remembered, at least.
Bradley felt Phoenix lean slightly beside him, but she didn’t say anything. Bob murmured something to her and sat back in his chair. Bradley didn’t move. His eyes followed you the whole way up, and not in the way someone politely watches a speaker. It was different. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.
You still had a certain feeling about the way you walked now. Still steady. Not cautious, but cautious nonetheless. Once, he had recalled that walk as you approached him, moving in the direction of everything. And here you were once more, on the same beach, heading for a microphone rather than him.
A loose strand of hair near your cheek was caught in the breeze as you turned to face the crowd of people. Without thinking, you pushed it back, your gaze sweeping over the visitors before settling someplace over their heads.
He was unable to determine if you were taking your time or were anxious. In any case, the moment went on longer than it ought to have. Bradley and the rest of his team, seated a few tables away, watched you as if he had no idea what was going to happen or perhaps as he had already done.
You stepped up to the mic and gave this little awkward smile, the kind that said yep, wasn’t planning on this but here we are. One hand adjusted the mic a bit too carefully, and the other smoothed down your dress like it was the only thing you could control right now. You cleared your throat quietly, then let your eyes scan the crowd, almost like you were trying to see how many familiar faces were looking back at you.
Bradley watched the way you hesitated for just a second, not out of fear, but like you wanted to get this right. That soft inhale, the way your fingers fidgeted briefly at the edge of the mic stand, that was how he knew you were nervous. Not in a bad way, just in that deeply personal, this-matters-to-me way he hadn’t seen in a long time.
Then you started, voice light, a little unsure. “Hi, um, so, I wasn’t supposed to go first. Our maid of honor is currently locked in battle with a three-year-old and a very important bread roll, so... I’ve been bumped up.”
People laughed, and you laughed too, this short, relieved sound like okay, this might not be so bad.
You glanced down for a second, and then back up. “I guess I’ll start by saying that this isn’t really a normal speech, because this isn’t really a normal couple. Penny and Mav have kind of... always been there. I mean, not literally always, but close enough that I can’t remember a version of myself that didn’t have them.”
Bradley’s eyes didn’t leave you. He saw the way your shoulders slowly dropped as you settled in, the way your fingers found the necklace at your collarbone and tugged at it like it gave you something to do. He knew that move. You did it when your voice was about to get too honest.
“I used to joke that I was their first child,” you said, and that got a few more laughs, some nods. “But honestly? It didn’t really feel like a joke. They were there through all the growing pains. The mess. The breakdowns in the kitchen. That one year where I swore I was moving to New York and never coming back.” You paused. “Spoiler: I came back.”
Penny laughed, head tipping back as she wiped at her eyes. Maverick just watched you like he was seeing a piece of something finally settle into place.
You kept going. “They didn’t just show up once or twice. They showed up every time. Even when I didn’t ask. Especially when I didn’t ask. And I think there’s something... rare about that. About people who don’t just love you when you’re easy to love, but when you’re falling apart a little, or a lot.”
Bradley felt that line hit somewhere low in his stomach. You weren’t crying, but there was something different in your voice now. Softer. Less sure. Like this part hurt a little more.
“They held me through some of the worst moments of my life,” you said, eyes fixed on them now, voice steady but quiet. “And when everything fell apart, and I mean everything, they still stayed. They never made me feel like I had to be more put together than I was. Even when I was... not doing great. When I couldn’t look anyone in the eye. When I couldn’t even say divorce out loud.”
Bradley froze. Everything inside him went totally motionless, but not in a way that anyone else could see. Even though you didn't have to, you didn't look him in the eye. It fell exactly where you expected it to since you had said enough.
“But they stayed,” you went on, your voice now scarcely audible.. “And they loved me anyway. I think... I think that’s the kind of love we all hope for, right? The kind that sees you when you don’t recognize yourself. And just stay.”
You paused for a moment, then smiled again. This one was smaller, but real. “You guys did good. You really, really did. I’m happy for you both. I love you.”
You stepped back, passed the mic off, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as you sat back down. Bradley didn’t move. He didn’t even notice that everyone was clapping. He just watched you quietly, his hands resting on his knees, trying to swallow whatever had just cracked open inside his chest.
After that, Bradley didn't do much dancing. Here and there he attempted. During a Stevie Wonder song, Phoenix pulled him to the ground, and he gave in. He clapped and moved enough to appear somewhat alive, but his heart wasn't in it. Not after you've spoken. Not after the way you said divorce as if it were still bitter. As if you weren't even certain you could say it out in a setting full of romance and new beginnings.
He kept catching glimpses of you through the crowd, moving between groups of people, hugging Penny again, holding Amelia’s hand for a little while as they spun in slow circles near the edge of the dance floor. You looked lighter than you had during the ceremony, but he wasn’t sure it was real. He knew your smiles too well. He’d seen the ones you gave to everyone else, and the ones you saved for yourself when no one was looking. This one felt somewhere in between.
By the time the dancing hit full swing, when the music turned louder and the shoes came off, Bradley slipped away from the crowd. Not because he wanted to avoid anyone, he just needed a minute. The ocean was only a few steps past the bar, and he followed the sound of the waves, thinking maybe he could walk it off. The tension. The ache. Whatever had been crawling under his ribs since the moment you stepped up to that microphone.
However, he turned the corner and saw you just beyond the string lights and coolers.
Holding your heels in one hand while fumbling with a bottle of water in the other, you were barefoot. You had a bit longer locks now, with strands falling all over your face. At first, you were too preoccupied with the bottle to notice him; you were juggling everything in the crook of your arm while twisting the cap with one hand. Perhaps the loudness had affected you as well, because you seemed like you were making an effort to keep occupied.
He slowed, uncertain whether to speak or simply back off and give you room, but you looked up and saw him.
It was only a moment. A quick blink. He froze, and so did you. It was a long, awkward moment that contained all of the things that had been kept silent for the previous eight months.
“Oh,” you said, almost under your breath. Then you offered a polite smile. “Sorry, uh, just... escaping the Macarena.”
Bradley nodded, stepping a little further into the dim glow from the hanging lights. “Yeah. Same.”
The music and laughter were just too distant to cover the silence as you two stood there, half in the dark.
In an attempt to think of something to say, Bradley adjusted his weight and rubbed his palm along the back of his neck. You seemed like you were about to leave. He noticed how you grasped your shoes as though they were a ticket out and how your shoulders tipped slightly.
“Hey,” he said, too fast. He didn’t mean to sound that desperate, but it slipped out before he could stop it.
You paused and turned, just enough to face him. “Yeah?”
He gave a blink. Before saying anything, he opened and closed his mouth once. From the sensation of it, there was a bone in his throat. Something solid and jagged that would not budge, as if everything in him was attempting to speak at once and nothing was getting through.
“You look nice tonight.”
It came out small, quiet, and a little rough. Although your face remained mostly unchanged, your fingers ceased to move against the bottle, and your heel-grabbing grasp became a little tighter.
You gazed at him for a while, your eyes gentle yet impenetrable. You then offered the smallest nod. “Thanks.”
You didn't say it with a smile. It was neither cold nor the true type. After you turned and moved back toward the music, Bradley simply stood there and let the sound of the waves fill the void left by your voice.
The sun had completely set and the string lights had taken over, obscuring everything in a gentle, golden haze by the time Bradley returned to his seat. A familiar, sluggish tune that was barely audible over the sand had replaced the previous one. Feeling the burden of the previous several hours sink into his chest, he sank into his chair and quietly exhaled.
With all the grace of someone who was extremely uncomfortable, Mickey slid into the seat across from him and appeared at the table. At first, he remained silent. simply played with a coaster and smiled tightly and guiltyly at Bradley.
Reuben and Javy appeared behind him a beat later, hovering rather than sitting. They had a strange vibe, like two children who want to give their friend a chance to repent before telling a parent about him. Both of them repeatedly pushed Mickey's shoulders from behind in an obvious attempt to get him to talk.
Bradley blinked. “Okay, what is this?”
“We’re just... hanging out,” Javy said too casually.
“Enjoying the vibes,” Reuben added, nodding like he was convincing himself.
Mickey groaned, head dropping into his hands. “This is so messed up.”
Jake, who had been sitting at the far end of the table nursing what looked like his fourth beer, leaned in with the gleam of someone who lived for this exact kind of drama. “Oh, it’s messed up alright. Go on, Mick, confess your sins.”
Bradley looked between them, already bracing. “What did you do?”
Mickey peeked up through his fingers, wearing the exact expression of a teenager who just broke the neighbor’s window. “Okay, look, someone... a guy. He’s here as a friend of Penny’s family or something. He was asking around about... her.”
There was a pause, but Bradley didn’t even need him to clarify.
Mickey winced. “Like... her, her.”
Bradley gave him a blank look. “Okay?”
“I just figured you should know,” Mickey mumbled. “He said he might ask her to dance. He was also asking if she was with anybody.”
Bradley felt a strange sinking in his gut. No lurch. Not even a twist. Something folded in quietly, as if there were a pressure drop inside his chest. His face remained motionless, but before he could react, something caught in his throat.
“She’s single,” he said, finally. “We’re divorced. She can do whatever she wants.”
Mickey gave him a hesitant nod, still looking like he expected a thunderclap.
Javy scratched the back of his head. “It’s just... the guy had really white teeth. Like, confident teeth.”
“Super confident,” Reuben muttered. “Like, probably says things like ‘mind if I cut in’ without irony.”
Bradley looked down at his drink. “It’s fine.”
No, it’s not.
Jake set his beer down with too much force. “Okay, that’s it. Enough.”
Bradley barely had time to glance up before Jake leaned across the table, grabbed both sides of his face, and squished his cheeks between his hands like he was inspecting fruit at the farmer’s market.
“What the hell are you—”
“Shut up,” Jake said, serious now, face inches away. “Look at me. No, look at me. I need you to hear this. You have looked like a haunted Civil War widow for the past eight months.”
Bradley blinked. “What—”
“You haunt your own house,” Jake said, voice rising slightly. “You shuffle around base in your sad little hoodie listening to sad indie playlists, and don’t think we don’t hear it in the hangar. ‘Maybe I’m too busy being yours’? Man, get a grip.”
Bradley tried to pull back, but Jake just squished his face harder.
“You’re miserable,” he said. “You’ve been miserable, man. The only time you don’t look like you want to crawl into a hole and die is when she’s around, so fucking no. I am not gonna sit here while some shiny stranger with a tan and a personality swoops in and puts his hands on her waist during Ed Sheeran. Absolutely fucking not, Rooster.”
Bradley finally shoved his hands away. “Jake, Jesus.”
Phoenix, halfway through her drink, didn’t even look up. “He’s not wrong, though.”
“Thank you,” Jake said, dramatically gesturing to her.
Bradley leaned back and wiped his face, attempting to calm the chatter in his brain. He was not even angry. Actually, no. I'm simply exhausted. Weary of experiencing everything at once and feigning indifference to it all. He thought that maybe after the papers were signed and the boxes were gone, things would just… stop hurting.
They did not.
And now, the thought of someone else, even hypothetically, reaching for your hand during this night under these gentle string lights caused something in his chest to tense cruelly. He turned back to face you on the dance floor. Still grinning, continuing to go about the evening as if nothing had happened to you.
But he wondered. God, he wondered.
And for a second, he thought he was actually going to do it.
Bradley got up and pushed off, his hands briefly braced on the table's edge. His legs were heavy. He felt weighed down, yet not anxious. By all means. Jake had become silent, indicating that he was aware. Nat looked at him briefly but remained silent. Simply release him.
He didn’t even know what he was going to say when he got there. Just knew he had to say something. Anything.
Standing close to the edge of the dance floor, you were barefoot and your hair was a little disheveled, as if the ocean breeze had messed with it. He could tell it was a genuine chuckle even from behind you as your head cocked in amusement or one you didn't try to conceal, anyway.
He moved. Then, another. However, someone else arrived before him just as he was beginning to close the gap. Bradley came to a stop, halfway through a step, mouth opening a little.
With a level of ease that made Bradley's skin crawl, the tall, sharp-looking man, some wedding guest he didn't recognize, with a dress shirt rolled to the elbows as if on purpose, stepped into your personal space.
With another gentle laugh, he leaned forward and murmured something that made your shoulders tremble. His hand then reached out, and Bradley saw your fingers flinch for a half-second before slipping into his.
That was it.
That tiny movement. That choice.
Bradley’s hand fell back to his side.
The guy led you to the dance floor, casual, like this was no big thing. You didn’t look back. You just let yourself be pulled into the middle of all the other swaying bodies and moved with him like it wasn’t strange, like you didn’t used to do this exact thing with someone else.
With him.
The song playing wasn’t anything too emotional, something mellow with a steady beat, but it felt way too loud in Bradley’s ears. His jaw flexed, and he blinked hard before dragging himself back to the table, sitting down heavier than he meant to.
Jake leaned in, eyeing him. “So, uh… that was not you dancing with her.”
“Sharp observation,” Bradley muttered.
Mickey tried to slide a shrimp skewer toward him, like that would fix it. “Dude, I didn’t think he’d actually go up to her. I thought he was just asking around. I didn’t know he’d—”
“It’s fine,” Bradley cut in, voice flat. “She can dance with whoever she wants.”
Jake let out this short breath, kind of like a laugh but not funny. “Sure, yeah, but let’s not pretend you’re not sitting there looking like someone just keyed your Bronco.”
Bradley didn’t respond.
He just watched the dance floor from where he sat, elbows on the table, thumb rubbing the rim of his glass. You were still out there. Moving in rhythm, your hand resting lightly on that guy’s arm, your head tilted toward him as he talked.
Bradley didn’t know what you were saying, and didn’t know what was going through your head, but he knew how it felt to be the one you were smiling at like that.
How it used to feel like the whole world could fall apart as long as you still had your fingers hooked into his collar and your laugh pressed against his shoulder.
Now someone else had that. And yeah. He told himself it was fine, but it didn’t feel fine.
It felt like shit.
He could lie all he wanted. Tell himself it didn’t matter, that the papers were signed, that this was what you both chose, but watching you dance with someone else, watching you laugh like it didn’t ache, like the weight of everything you had didn’t still live somewhere behind your ribs, and yeah, it felt like shit.
He hadn’t even realized he was still watching you until Phoenix bumped her knee against his. She didn’t say anything, just gave him a look. The kind that said, go, or shut up about it forever.
And maybe that was what did it.
Maybe it was the look, or the drink in his hand that suddenly tasted like ash, or maybe it was just the way you were standing now, off to the side of the dance floor, barefoot and still holding your shoes like the night hadn’t finished with you yet.
Bradley looked at you, really looked this time. You weren’t laughing now. You were quiet, eyes tracking the tide, the hem of your dress brushing your ankles every time the wind caught it. The kind of stillness that felt more like waiting than resting.
And it hit him, right in the chest, that you looked just like you did the day you told him you were done. Still, tired, but not angry. Not anymore.
That’s the thing about you. You never were good at staying angry.
Bradley set his glass down. Wiped his hands on his pants like it would help. His mouth was dry. His chest felt tight. He stood before he could talk himself out of it.
He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t have anything planned. There was no grand apology lined up, no speech he’d rehearsed in the mirror. Just this feeling like if he didn’t say something tonight, if he didn’t at least try, he’d choke on everything he’d left unsaid.
So, he walked. Across the sand, past the edge of the party and the music and the laughter, until it was just you and the ocean and a few flickers of light strung overhead. His heart thudded hard enough that it made his ears ring.
He stopped a few steps behind you.
You hadn’t noticed him yet, or maybe you had and just weren’t ready to turn around. You stood there with your weight on one leg, your hand toying with the strap of your shoe. The waves kept coming in.
The breeze kept pushing your hair across your face. For a second, he just stood there, trying to find the version of you he used to come home to, the one who wore his hoodie and called him Bradley like it was a secret.
You were still you, but you were not his anymore.
His throat was dry. He said your name.
You turned slowly, eyes meeting his. And then, you smiled.
Just a little. Small and soft. Like you weren’t sure if this was a mistake yet, like you didn’t want to make it worse, but weren’t ready to run.
Bradley’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He almost smiled back.
It was precisely how you were carrying your shoes that gave him the first clue. Relaxed, a little too slack. Like the grip your fingers had was slowly loosening. You had been standing alone headed toward the water for a couple of minutes.
Your head was looking forward, while your body was slightly angled away from the party as though you were in the middle of departing, but something held you back. And to Bradley, it seemed like you were using extra effort to inhale and exhale even though you were not dancing. Just... maintaining a balance.
That’s when he noticed it.
A minuscule change in how you were standing. Almost nothing. Just enough so that your ankle could make the tiniest twitch, your foot pushing down awkwardly in the sand as if it was painful.
His stomach plunged.
It was dumb, how his mind was still connecting the dots. The way it etched out your posture, your routines, and every little movement. He was practically understanding every detail about you without knowing he was doing it. And now, even with distance between you two, the urge to mend things still felt present. Reflexive. Blistering.
He began moving as soon as possible so that he didn't overthink it.
But now you were here, standing in front of him. He was still not too far off, but the distance was close enough for the wind to catch your hair blowing strands onto your face. You were meeting his gaze.
You smiled, and it was gentle, shy, and unsure.
Your name slipped off his lips with the ease he'd grown accustomed to. It had been a while since he had spoken it and even longer since he had uttered it out loud where someone could hear him. It felt strange, yet captivating to say.
Your gaze seemed to linger on him a bit too long before offering the most polite nod as if this was purely a casual exchange and not two individuals conversing at a gathering, and definitely not as someone who used to doze off with her head on his chest.
“Hey,” you said.
Bradley nodded. “Hey.”
The silence that followed was awkward in a way that didn’t need explaining. It was heavy. Familiar. Like you were both trying to step around something massive without drawing attention to it. But it just sat there. Right between you.
“You, uh… been okay?” he asked, voice rougher than he meant.
You tucked some hair behind your ear and gave a small shrug. “Mostly. You?”
He hesitated. “Trying.”
You nodded like you understood, because you did. Then, you shifted again. Tried to take a step, and winced. Bradley’s brow furrowed. He looked down.
“Did you twist your ankle?”
You glanced away. “I’m fine. I just wore the wrong shoes.”
He knew that wasn’t true.
“Sit,” he said, already reaching for the shoes in your hand.
“Bradley—”
“Just for a second,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
You didn’t argue.
You let him crouch in the sand in front of you like it was still his place. Like no time had passed. And maybe that was what hurt the most; how easy it was to fall back into it.
His hand wrapped around your ankle gently, thumb pressing against the bone as he scanned for swelling. There wasn’t much, but the skin looked tender, a little red where the strap had dug in too hard. Your heel had flecks of dried sand stuck to it. The arch of your foot twitched in his palm.
“You always did have a talent for picking the shoes that hurt you,” he murmured.
You smiled faintly. “I forgot how long weddings are.”
He huffed a laugh. “You say that every time.”
The silence after that was different. Less awkward, but more fragile.
He didn’t want to let go. Not because he thought he had a right to touch you, but because it felt like the only real thing he’d held in months. You looked down at him, really looked, and he felt it like a bruise blooming slow under his ribs.
His fingers loosened. He let your foot go gently, brushing sand off your heel before he set your shoes down beside you.
Then, he stood, slower this time, heart lodged somewhere behind his throat.
You hadn’t moved. You didn’t thank him. Didn’t step away either. You just kept your eyes on his, like you were trying to say something without the words.
And all he could think, standing there in the half-dark with the tide rolling behind you, was God, I still love you.
Before Bradley could even think of saying anything else, footsteps crunched lightly over the sand behind you.
“Ah, there you are,” a voice said, smooth and easy, with that clipped accent that made every sentence sound just a little more thoughtful than it needed to be.
You turned first, and Bradley followed your gaze as Evan appeared, walking toward you with two drinks in his hands. He wasn’t rushing. Just strolled over like this was the most natural thing in the world, like the three of you standing in a triangle on the beach under dim string lights wasn’t quietly brimming with something unspoken.
“I didn’t think I’d lose you for that long,” Evan said with a soft smile, then glanced at Bradley. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting?”
Bradley shook his head once, quickly. “No, we’re, uh, just catching up.”
Evan nodded, still looking between the two of you, like he was trying to gauge something. “Right. Well,” he said, handing you a drink, “I figured you might be parched.”
Bradley glanced at the glass. You took it without hesitation, but he knew you better than that. The twist of your lips, the way your thumb hovered at the rim like you weren’t sure what to do with it, it was all there. That wasn’t your drink. Too much citrus, too many ice cubes. You hated when it watered down too fast. He remembered that.
Evan smiled politely at him. “We haven’t met. I’m Evan, by the way.”
Bradley took the offered hand and gave a firm shake. “Bradley.”
There was a short pause. Not uncomfortable exactly, but loaded. You looked between them like you knew what this was and weren’t quite sure how to break the tension.
“So,” Evan said, turning slightly toward Bradley, “are you Navy as well?”
“Yeah. A Naval Aviator,” Bradley nodded toward the hangar in the distance, past the shoreline. “Stationed here for the moment.”
“Ah,” Evan said, his eyebrows lifting. “That explains the build.”
Bradley gave a polite laugh, eyes darting back to you for a beat.
Evan sipped his drink, then glanced between the two of you again. “I teach. Literature and film, mostly. University back east. Visiting friends here for a while.”
“Professor,” Bradley said, not mocking, just taking it in. “That’s cool.”
Evan nodded once, letting the breeze ruffle his sleeve. “Not quite as thrilling as flying jets, I imagine, but someone’s got to romanticize the world’s problems, don’t they?”
You gave a quiet chuckle beside them.
Bradley’s eyes lingered on your face. The way you smiled at Evan’s words. The way your body shifted, just slightly, toward the man standing next to you now.
He was still standing in the same spot, and yet somehow, it felt like you were farther away again.
Bradley’s eyes drifted back to the drink in your hand. It was second nature now, noticing things like that. The garnish, the glass, the way it fizzed a little too much on the top. It wasn’t the one you liked. Not even close.
You hadn’t taken a sip yet. He didn’t know if it was out of politeness or if you were waiting for a chance to toss it behind your back when no one was looking. But it made something tighten in his chest.
He cleared his throat gently. “She doesn’t really like that, by the way.”
You blinked, glancing down at the drink. Evan looked too, then tilted his head with a mild hum, clearly not offended.
“No?” Evan asked, looking back at you.
You gave the smallest shrug, the kind that said it didn’t matter even if it kind of did.
“Too much lime,” Bradley added, voice quiet but steady. “And she hates when the ice melts too fast. It gets watery.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Then, Evan chuckled, light and a little amused. “Noted. Next time I’ll take my cocktail research a bit more seriously.”
You gave him a smile. One of those polite, noncommittal ones that didn’t reach your eyes.
Bradley forced a breath through his nose, something settling heavy in his chest. The moment had passed. Whatever thread had been there, holding the three of you in that delicate little shape, had started to fray. And he could feel it in your body language, in the way your shoulders pulled slightly away from him without even meaning to. He wasn’t the one standing beside you anymore.
He met your eyes just once more. For the last time.
Then he gave you a smile that was tight-lipped, and careful. The kind that didn’t quite reach anything. And just beneath it, a look that held a quiet ache he didn’t bother to hide.
“Take care,” he said, voice softer now.
And without waiting for a reply, he turned and started walking back toward the crowd. The sand crunched under his feet, the ocean hummed somewhere behind him, and his hands stayed in his pockets like it would help keep everything else from slipping out.
Summary: With everyone seeming to have plans for the holidays you resign yourself to another year of spending Christmas alone... until Bradley decides to intervene. Maybe this year Santa will bring you what you really want for Christmas.
Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female! Reader (Callsign Siren), appearances by the Daggers.
Word Count: 9190 (It got away from me...ooops!)
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, Slight angst if you blink, SERIOUS FLUFF, Bradley being the sweetest
A/N: Written for my @bellaireland1981 #WinterRomComChallenge! I do not give permission to anyone to copy, translate or post my work on this or any site. Do not feed it into any AI generator. Top Gun Maverick characters do not belong to me but all OC's and AU's are my content. My blog is 18+ so MINORS DNI!
Masterlist Winter RomCom Writing Challenge
“What’s everyone’s Christmas plans?” Phoenix asked as you all sat around your regular booths at the Hard Deck.
“Heading home to Texas. My sisters have threatened bodily harm if I’m not there this year.” Jake said.
“I’m flying home to Miami.” Fanboy answered, “Looking forward to seeing my whole family and being off military time.”
“I hear that.” Payback replied, “The wife and I are just spending down time together, then splitting time between my parents and hers on Christmas.”
“I’m going home too.” Bob said, “My sister is about to have her baby so I'm hoping to be there for that. You heading to your sister’s in Arizona, Nat?”
“Yeah. My niece and nephew have been begging me to come home to visit.” She replied, smiling, “My sister and brother in law are hosting Christmas this year.”
You stayed silent while everyone talked about going home to their families, sipping your drink, dreading when the focus would shift to you.
“Bradshaw, what are your travel plans this year?” Jake asked Bradley, “Or are you going to stay around this year to spend it with Mav doing the whole family gig now that you’ve ironed things out?”
“Him and Penny are taking Amelia on a trip.” Bradley said quietly, shrugging, “I haven’t really given it much thought this year. I’ve got a few weeks to figure it out… might look at renting a cabin somewhere and just enjoying the quiet.”
“Dude, you can’t spend Christmas alone.” Fanboy said.
Bradley simply shrugged, “What about you, Siren? What are your plans?”
“I don’t have any plans.” You shrugged, feeling awkward. Deciding now was a perfect time for a refill you scooted out off the bench, “Anyone need a refill?”
You ignored the blinking stares as you quickly made your way through the crowd to the bar.
“Hey, Siren,” Penny said, coming over, “What can I get you, Sweetheart?”
“Can I get a refill please?” You asked, handing her the empty glass.
“Sure thing.” She replied, grabbing the glass and replenishing your ice before adding more vodka and cranberry juice. She passed the glass back to you and rather than rejoin the others again you decided to take a minute and sit down at the bar. “Everything ok?”
“Yeah.” You sighed, “Just…not feeling very social tonight, just needed a minute.”
“Sweetheart, that’s why I’m asking if you’re OK.” Penny replied with a gentle smile, “It’s not like you to be over here instead of over with the others… full of life.”
“I guess even I need to recharge my social battery sometimes.” You said, attempting to smile. “Honestly, I’ll probably head out after this one so you can go ahead and close my tab for the night.”
“Ok, Y/N.” She said, “You know I’m always here if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Penny.” You said, with a real smile on your face now, “That means a lot.”
She went to the end of the bar to collect your card and close out your tab. You sipped your drink and tried to pull yourself out of the funk you’d fallen into. Truth be told despite not having family or anywhere to go, you did love the holidays. You just got lonely. The squad always celebrated together before everyone headed off to their own families, which you looked forward to. The Daggers had become your family. You loved them dearly.
“Everything ok, Siren?” Bradley asked, sliding onto the seat next to you. “You didn’t come back.”
“Just closing out my tab.” You said, “I’m ok, Roo.”
“Closing your tab?” He asked, “It’s still really early, are you feeling ok? What’s wrong?”
The thing about Bradley is he was really good at reading you. The two of you had become the closest since the Daggers had become a permanent squadron. You normally loved spending time with him and enjoyed playing pool with him on nights like this or standing next to him as he played the piano and entertained the bar. Truth be told you had started to fall for him, which scared you. You saw the kinds of the girls he normally left the bar with. You also were too scared to risk your friendship by confessing said feelings and making things awkward when he doesn’t feel the same way.
“I’m fine, really.” You smiled, “Just not feeling it tonight. Gonna head home.”
“If you’re sure.” He said, not looking at all convinced. “Text me or call if you need anything…or if you want to hang out this weekend.”
“Ok, Roo.” You promised, “Have fun with everyone. Try to stay out of trouble.”
He smirked, winking and he stood up and kissed your cheek before heading back over to everyone. Penny brought the receipt for you to sign. After scrawling your signature and saying goodbye to Penny you slipped out of the bar, deciding not to say goodbye to the rest of the crew. You knew you’d hear about it from Phoenix later.
You ended up spending the weekend holed up in your apartment in your pajamas curled up on your couch under a fuzzy blanket and watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies. You did end up hearing from Phoenix who gave you the third degree but in the end realized you needed space. Bradley texted you several times over the weekend trying to get you to hang out, you’d told him you weren’t feeling great and that you’d see him Monday.
The next couple of weeks, leading up to Christmas you found every excuse to avoid hanging out with the squad and going to the Hard Deck. Everyone was just so excited about their Christmas plans and going home…it just emphasized the fact that you were alone.
“Squad Christmas tonight!” Phoenix reminded everyone on the way out of the training room as they headed out. It was the Friday before everyone was heading off on their holiday leaves. Everyone was planning to meet at Bradley’s house since he had the biggest space to hold everyone. “You’ll be there, Siren, or I swear I will drive to your apartment and drag you out myself.”
“I’ll be there.” You promised, knowing she was absolutely serious. “I promised Rooster I’d be there early to help him cook.”
“Good.” Phoenix said, “You’ve been missing in action too often lately, and I’ve allowed it, but your hermit crab days are over.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” You laughed.
“Hey, Siren, you heading home first or coming right over.” Bradley asked, coming up behind the two of you.
“I have to run home first.” You said, “I’ll be over in about an hour though?”
“Ok. The sooner the better if I’m in charge of dinner.” He smirked.
“You’re so full of it.” You playfully rolled your eyes, “You’re a good cook and you know it.”
“But it’s more fun when you’re there.” He pouted.
“You two are too much.” Phoenix said, shaking her head, muttering as she walked away, “Oblivious damn fools.”
“She’s kinda scary” You said, laughing.
“Yup.” Bradley agreed, “She sure is. But she’s ours… and you have to admit she has her hands full keeping us all in line.”
“Speak for yourself.” You said, “I’m the least chaotic of this group.”
“You got your callsign for a reason, Sweetheart.” Bradley said, “We’re all always having to keep an eye on you because you seem to draw everyone to you… sometimes that means you need saving.”
“I got my call sign because some of the other pilots in flight school thought I was too loud.” You replied.
“Y/N, nobody would ever say you’re too loud.” Bradley smirked, “You are many things, Sweetheart, but too loud isn’t one of them.”
You weren’t sure how to process this new information or how to handle it when Bradley gave you that smirk with the playful sparkle in his amber eyes.
“Ok, well on that note,” You said, “I’ll see you in an hour.”
“Hurry!” He pleaded, leveling you with the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.
“Oh my God, Rooster,” You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him, “Put away the sad puppy eyes, you giant goofball.”
“But I’m YOUR giant goofball, right?” He asked, batting his lashes.
“GO!” You laughed, “Before I change my mind and leave you to your own devices.”
“Ok, Ok” He said, smiling, “See you soon, Sweetheart.”
When you got home, you showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a Christmas sweater. You had a tank top on under in case you got hot. You’d all done secret Santa rather than everyone guy for everyone. You had drawn Jake’s name. The gift you’d finally decided on for him was paying for and arranging for Penny to stock his favorite Texas brand beer at the Hard Deck for 6 months…after that he was on his own. You’d also managed to snag decently priced but still good seats for a Cowboys game while he was home. You grabbed a gift box with the tickets and certificate that Penny had made up for you to give him, as well as a dessert you’d made and headed out to Bradley’s.
Pulling in you parked next to his Bronco and carried everything up to the front steps of the craftsman style house. He pulled the door open just as you got to the door.
“Hey, perfect timing.” He said, smiling and stepping back to let you in, “I was just about to put on the Christmas playlist and start cooking.”
“I brought chocolate truffle dessert everyone seems to fight over for later.” You said, “And I was in a baking mood this past week so I brought you a container of cookies that you can stash…or share…your choice.”
“Can I hide both desserts and not share either?” He asked, smiling as he led you to the kitchen.
“Nope. The truffle is for everyone.” You laughed, “But if you’re good, I could be persuaded into making you your own batch.”
“I can be VERY good, Sweetheart.” He smirked, his eyes flashing with mischief.
You could feel your entire body heat up at his words. You only had yourself to blame for that one…you’d walked right into that.
“I highly doubt that.” You managed to say. Thankfully your voice didn’t betray the fact that he had you flustered. “Better get going on dinner…the squad will be here before you know it and we don’t want a grumpy hungry crowd.”
“Alright,” He agreed, “Feel like chopping some vegetables?”
“I think I can handle that.” You answered, heading to the sink to wash your hands.
The two of you worked side by side, singing along to the Christmas playlist. Before long, dinner was in the oven and you both had snacks and everything set up on the kitchen island. You’d just put the last cheese plate on the counter when the others started to arrive.
After everyone was stuffed full from grazing on snacks while waiting for dinner, then eating the meal and dessert, they all settled into the living room where Bradley actually had a Christmas tree up and the music was still playing softly in the background.
Phoenix and Bob were sharing the smaller loveseat style couch, with javy sitting in front of Phoenix on the floor. Payback sprawled across a chair on the opposite side. Fanboy was laid out on the floor originally but sat up with his back against the chair in front of Payback. Jake settled onto one end of the couch and Bradley the other leaving the middle open for you to settle into when you came into the room. Jake winked, sending you a knowing smirk, causing your face to heat up. Thankfully, if anyone asked, you could blame it on the room temperature and your sweater.
“Come sit, Siren!” Bradley said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and patting the spot next to him. “It’s Secret Santa time!”
You settled into the spot between Bradley and Jake trying to maintain as much space as possible, your feet tucked under you.
“Alright, who’s going first?” Phoenix asked. “From there we’ll just go down the line.”
“I’ll start!” Jake said, hopping up and grabbing the gift he’d stashed under the tree. “Phoenix, I got you.”
“Uh oh.” Everyone laughed. You smiled reassuringly at Jake when he ducked his head and sat back down after handing off the gift. He’d showed up at your door in a complete panic the day after drawing names begging to swap, but for obvious reasons you couldn’t so you instead offered to help him.
“Holy shit, Jake.” Phoenix said, using his actual name instead of callsign, or a variation of it. “This is… wow. Thank you! I’ve been wanting to try this place out but couldn’t justify the extravagance. Truly… Thank You.”
A blush crept over Jake’s neck and ears, but a genuine smile, not the cocky smile he usually wore was plastered to his face. “You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”
“What is it?” Payback asked, unable to see from where he was sitting.
“A gift certificate to a spa in Coronado.” She replied, “That covers an entire day worth of pampering.”
“Impressive, Seresin.” Payback replied.
“Anyway, who did you have Phoenix?” Jake asked, desperate to refocus the attention away from him.
“I got Fanboy!” She said, getting up to grab the gift from under the tree and handed it to him.
He tore open the paper and was as giddy as a small child on Christmas.
“Nix!” He exclaimed, “Thank you! This is fucking awesome! Thank You! I can’t wait to build it!” Everyone laughed at how perfect the gift was. She’d gotten him the Lego Death Star and tickets to Legoland.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled.
“I actually drew Payback!” He said standing to grab the gift under the tree.
“That seems rigged, getting your own front seater.” Bradley said.
“Luck of the draw!” Fanboy laughed, “Made it easier! Merry Christmas, man!”
“Thanks!” Payback laughed, accepting the envelope from Fanboy and opening it. “Shit, man this is fantastic! Laura will be excited.”
“What is it?” Phoenix asked, “Show and tell!”
“He got us a weekend getaway in Palm Springs.” Payback replied. “We will definitely take advantage.”
“Nice!” Phoenix said, “Laura will appreciate that!”
“Definitely.” He agreed, “Alright, I drew Javy’’s name.” He got up and grabbed his gift from under the tree and handed it to him.
“Thanks!” Javy said, accepting the gift from Payback. He opened in and got a huge smile on his face. “VEGAS! No Way! You scored Formula 1 tickets? Thanks, man!”
“You’re welcome!” Payback replied, “Laura was the genius that was able to work that one.”
“I knew I loved her” Javy laughed, “I’ll have to give HER a big hug next time I see her. “I got Bob!” He headed to the tree to grab the envelope to hand to Bob before reclaiming his seat at Phoenix’s feet.
He smiled as he pulled out a gift certificate for a weekend of hiking and camping at Joshua's Tree.
“Oh, wow… Jacob’s Tree! This is perfect, Javy.” Bob said, looking excited, “I can’t wait put this to use!”
“I’m glad you like it.”” Javy said, smiling. “Who did you draw?”
“I got Rooster.” Bob said, standing up to grab a brightly wrapped box. You gulped, realizing that meant Bradley pulled your name. Bob reached over you, handing Bradley the box.
“Thanks, Bob!” He said, also looking like a kid at Christmas. You had to admit, it was fun seeing everyone get so excited to open gifts.
Bradley tore the paper off and lifted the top of the box off, before pulling out a very brightly colored Hawaiian shirt out, making Bradley chuckle, until he noticed the card attached to the shirt and realized it was a legit Hawaiian printed shirt, likely one of a kind and literally from Hawaii.
“Bob, this is incredible.” He said, a huge smile on his face. “I love it! Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome!” He replied, “I figured you needed an authentic Hawaiian shirt to add to the collection.”
“It’s perfect!” Bradley said, still smiling widely as he carefully folded the shirt back into the tissue paper. “Ok, I got lucky in this exchange and drew Siren’s name!” Bradley hopped up to grab your gift from where he had it stashed. When he came back over, he plopped back down much closer than when he’d left closing the gap you’d been careful enough to leave. “Merry Christmas.” He said, handing you the present with a soft smile on his face.
“Thanks, Roo.” You replied, smiling as you opened the present. Once the paper was off, you glanced up at Bradley, who was looking at you with a sweet smile. You opened the box and peeled back the tissue paper, inside was a very old but pristine looking rare copy of Hans Christian Anderson’s The Little Mermaid. “Oh my God, Roo... where did you even find this? This is….”
“I had some help from a really cool bookshop downtown. They can find anything.” He smiled, “You said it was always your favorite and made you happy.”
“Roo, you have no idea.” You said, turning to hug him tightly, careful not to drop the book. “Thank You, so much.” You whispered, not trusting your voice.
“You’re welcome.” He said, hugging you back. He turned his head to place a gentle kiss on your temple. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it.” You beamed, pulling back. “It’s perfect.” You carefully set it on the coffee table and wiped your eyes, chuckling, then looked at Jake, “Ok, Jakey…your turn. I drew your name.” You stood up, Bradley playfully pouting as you moved away to go to the tree. You grabbed the box you’d placed the tickets and certificate in and brought it to Jake, handing it to him.
“Thanks, Sweets!” He said, beaming. You climbed over his legs and sat back down between him and Bradley. Jake tore the paper off and opened the box, pulling the 1st envelope out and laughed as he opened it. “This is like when someone wraps a gift over and over again isn’t it?”
“Damn! Missed opportunity!” You exclaimed, “Next year, for sure!”
“Ha! You might not get me again!” He said, sticking his tongue out, before reading the certificate he just pulled out. “Siren! Are you serious? How did you talk Penny into this? I think I just fell in love!”
“That’s all it takes?” You laughed, “I’ll be sure to let the tag chasers the way to your heart is beer.”
“Not just ANY beer, Sweets.” Jake beamed, his signature dimples coming through. If you weren’t already gone on Bradley it really would be easy to fall for Jake and his charms. You were probably one of the few he ever showed his non-asshole side to on the regular. “This is fantastic. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” You replied, “A little bit of home here in San Diego…at least for a few months.”
“I’m assuming you sweet talked Penny into stocking the beer he’s always going on about?” Phoenix asking smiling.
“Not only stocking it but this angel of a Siren PAID for it for the next 6 months.” Jake said, opening the next envelope already and pulling the paper with printed tickets. “Holy SHIT, Siren! You’re like the damn Christmas genie or whatever that grants Christmas wishes! Sweets… Thank you!” He reached over and yanked you into hug, tugging you away from Bradley. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his as best you could at the awkward angle, hugging him back.
“You’re welcome.” You replied, happy that he loved the gifts. You loved all the Daggers but were closest to Bradley, Phoenix and Jake.
“What other Christmas miracle did Siren grant?” Javy asked, amused by Jake’s reaction.
“This beautiful perfect Siren got me tickets to the Cowboy’s game while I’m home!” Jake beamed, finally releasing you.
“Aren’t they like PAYING people to take tickets to those games?” Bradley scoffed, a diehard Eagles fan himself.
“Don’t be a hater, Rooster.” Jake smirked, “Now we know that Siren loves me more.”
“Nope.” Bradley said, shaking his head. He reached over and wrapped his arms around you, tugging you away from Jake, who in turn playfully started to tug you back towards himself, effectively turning you into the object of tug-o-war.
“Boys, play nice.” Phoenix said, “I know you were taught how to share.”
“Hangman, gimme my Siren back.” Bradley said, playfully glaring at Jake. “She loves ME more.”
“You’re both equally obnoxious and I tolerate you equally.” You managed to get out while they had you sandwiched between them.
“Tolerate us!” Jake exclaimed, “Rooster, did you hear that? I think we should be hurt by that.”
“Siren, you wound us.” Bradley pouted, then smirked at Jake, the two of them seeming to communicate silently over your head. “Here we thought we meant more to you.”
Before you had a chance to respond the pair of them launched a tickle attack on you rendering you helpless to form any speech as you were focusing on trying to squirm out of their hold, while breathing as you laughed.
“Uncle!” You gasped, laughing, unable to get out of their reach. The rest of the squad not not coming to your rescue either, too busy laughing at you all. “Uncle!”
“Admit you love us, Siren.” Bradley said, pausing his tickle attack. “Not just tolerate us.”
“Fine!” You relent, “I love both of you knuckleheads!”
“We love you too, Siren.” Jake replied, winking at you before letting Bradley tug you over to his side of the couch.
“But I’m your favorite. You love me more.” Bradley whispered so only you could hear, “It’s ok, Siren, I won’t tell him.”
You chuckled , shaking your head at him. The rivalry between him and Jake had calmed down since the Uranium mission but it was still there.
After secret santa was finished, you all decided to watch Home Alone before calling it a night. You hung back to help Bradley with the clean up, not wanting him to get stuck with it all just because it was at his house.
The two of you worked side by side getting leftover food put up and the dishes rinsed and put into the dishwasher.
“Thanks for helping,” Bradley said, smiling, once the last dish was put in and the washer started.
“Of course.” You said, “I wouldn’t have left you with all of the clean up, Roo.”
“Feel like another movie?” He asked.
“Sure.” You agreed, not wanting the night to end yet. You liked spending time with Bradley. “What do you want to watch?”
“You choose.” He smiled, lacing your fingers through his own and tugging you back to the living room. He sat down on the couch, pulling you with him, his arm automatically wrapping you in his embrace. You smiled as you tucked your feet up on the other side of you and leaned into him, choosing to enjoy the moment.
“White Christmas!” You decided, “It’s my favorite… well top 5.”
“OK” He chuckled, “That was actually one of my mom’s favorites too.”
“She had good taste in Christmas movies.” You smiled up at him.
At some point in the movie you fell asleep, your head resting on Bradley’s chest, arm wrapped around his middle. He pulled a blanket over you and put his feet up on the coffee table, enjoying having you in his arms.
When the credits were rolling he gently ran his hand through your hair, brushing it from your face, causing you to stir.
“Hi, sunshine.” He smiled, “You missed all the good parts.”
“Guess I got too warm and comfy.” You said, smiling up at him. “Before I forget, I got you a Christmas present too, Roo. I didn’t want to bring it tonight though.”
“Sweetheart,” Bradley asked, shifting slightly so he could look at you, “I’ve wanted to ask… I know the night at the Hard Deck when everyone was talking about their holiday plans you got really quiet. You SAID you were ok, but I know you better than that.” He paused, tipping your face up to look at him so you couldn’t look away like you wanted to. “Then you went M.I.A that weekend and have been quiet at work, not hanging out with us unless we force the issue… Y/N…talk to me.”
“It’s stupid.” You sighed, “Really, it’s not that big of a deal. I AM fine, Roo.”
“Try again, Siren.” He said softly, not letting you get out of it, “Nothing you feel is stupid. Come on. It’s just me here…”
“I love Christmas…” You say quietly, “But hearing everyone’s plans to be with their families… just drives home the fact that I don’t have a family to go home to for holidays or just just in general. Normally, it doens’t bother me AS much, I’ve had years to adjust and get used to the fact that I’m all I have in the world, but sometimes… like that night at the Hard Deck… it gets to me. I realize that it would be nice to not be so alone in the world.”
Your voice was gravely from the raw emotions bubbling up, your chest getting tight. You wanted to turn away or bury your face in Bradley’s chest, but he’s not allowing you to look away.
“Sweetheart…” Bradley said gently, “You’re not all you have in the world. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you absolutely DO have a family… they’re chaotic, a lot to handle sometimes, but everyone that was here tonight is your family. You’re not alone, Siren.” He pulls you even closer so you’re practically in his lap at this point. “And you have me.”
You sigh, relaxing into him, giving yourself a moment to process his words, to formulate a response.
“Spend Christmas with me, Y/N.” He continued, before you had a chance to say anything, “We can stay here and hide out, watching Christmas movies and order take out…or cook…. Whatever, or we can get away somewhere, rent a cabin, have a Christmas adventure somewhere outside of San Diego. It doesn’t matter… let’s just spend it together.”
“You want to spend Christmas with me?” You asked him, lifting your head to look up at him.
“Why does that surprise you?” He chucked, “Of course I want to spend Christmas with you. Y/N… I always want to spend time with you. Holiday or no holiday, Sweetheart.”
“Oh.” You replied, a smile creeping over your face, “I always want to spend time with you too, holiday or not… but I’d love to spend Christmas with you, Roo.”
“Perfect!” He exclaimed, happily. “Do we wanna hold up here in San Diego or go away somewhere?”
“This close to Christmas, I doubt anything has openings.” You reasoned doubtfully, “Plus… no perfect Christmas trees already set up.”
“Both very good arguments.” he agreed, a smirk playing on his lips, his whiskey colored eyes shining. “Christmas here then. We can make dinner together and watch a bunch of cheesy Christmas movies. We can even roast marshmallows in the fireplace if we get really adventurous.”
“Sounds like a perfect way to spend the holiday, Roo.” You said.
A week later you were back at Bradley’s, in the kitchen, making snacks to binge cheesy Christmas movies. He’d talked you into coming over on Christmas Eve and having a sleepover (so Santa could find you of course).
“Ok, we’ve got popcorn, sugar cookies, M&Ms, goldfish crackers, peppermint crunch mix… hot cocoa with marshmallows… I think we have it all, Roo!” You said.
“We sure do, Sweetheart.” He smiled, “Let’s take this all into the living room.”
Bradley set all of the snacks on the coffee table, while you set the mugs of cocoa down. You both got comfy on the couch, Bradley pulling you into his side and starting the first movie.
Two movies in, you were fully snuggled into Bradley, his arms wrapped around you, your head resting on his chest.
“It’s getting late, Sweetheart.” He said softly, his hand brushing the hair away from your face, “Santa can’t come if we’re awake.”
“Are we leaving him Milk and Cookies too?” You giggled, looking up at him.
“Of course!” He chuckled, “Can’t expect the big guy to make his rounds without refreshments, Siren. You know how tired we get flying… he covers the entire WORLD!”
“You’re right… how silly of me.” You laugh, “We can leave him the rest of the sugar cookies and peppermint crunch mix from our movie snacks and just get him some milk… does that work?”
“Well for him… but what about the reindeer?” He teased, “They need snacks too.”
“And what exactly do you think the reindeer would like to eat?” You asked, smiling as you sat up and turned so you were facing him, enjoying the playful side of Bradley… but falling even harder for him in the process.
“I think we should research what reindeer like to eat.” He said, “We wouldn’t want to offend them and end up on Santa’s naughty list.”
“Definitely wouldn’t want that.” You laughed, watching as he pulled out his phone and actually Googled what reindeer eat.
“Ok, so no carrots.” He said, “They eat wild vegetation like grass, hay, alfalfa, or reindeer food… apples, graham crackers as treats and occasionally oats.”
“Fresh out of hay, reindeer food and alfalfa.” You sassed, “What do your apples, graham crackers and oat reserves look like?”
“I think we can find something.” He smirked, “Let’s go rustle up a reindeer snack.”
The two of you headed into the kitchen, taking in the dishes you were done with, minus the plate of cookies and other snacks for “Santa”.
“Ok, check the fridge for apples.” Bradley said, “I’ll check the pantry for the crackers and oats.”
“Yes Sir, Lieutenant Bradshaw, Sir!” You mock saluted, laughing and sticking your tongue out as you head to the fridge.
“You are full of sass tonight, Siren.” He laughed, “And you’re trouble. Remember…Santa’s watching.”
“I think I’m safe, Roo.” You said, sounding pretty sure of yourself as you pulled an apple from the fridge, “As far as I can tell neither you nor Jake have landed on the naughty list yet… so if you BOTH can manage to stay on the nice list with all the pranks and shenanigans you two get up to… I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”
“You’ve got a point.” He agreed, smirking as he brought crackers and oats to the counter where you had the apple. “Alright, let’s make some reindeer food.”
“How about we just set them all next to the snacks for Santa and he can decide what to give them?” You suggested, not wanting to actually waste the food.
“Absolutely not!” Bradley argued, looking appalled at your suggestion, “We’re doing this 100%, Siren! All in, Sweetheart.”
He grabbed a plate from the cupboard and set some of the graham crackers onto it, then opened the oatmeal and scooped a handful onto the plate with the crackers. You watched in amusement and adoration as he then grabbed a knife from the drawer and sliced the appled, setting the slices on the side of the plate.
When he was done he dropped the knife into the sink and looked at his handiwork once more before looking up at you. Seeing the look on your face, he smiled, “What?” he asked, his neck and cheeks turning pink.
“This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a really, REALLY long time, Roo.” You said, a soft smile on your lips. “Thank you.”
“It’s the best one I’ve had in a long time too” He said, pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms, feeling him close. “But it’s not over yet.”
After setting everything out on the coffee table and turning out all the lights, except for the lights on the tree, Bradley took your hand, leading you up the stairs to the guest room. Once in front of the room where you’d stashed your stuff earlier, he pulled you into an easy hug, dropping a kiss down onto your forehead.
“Goodnight, Sweetheart.” He smiled warmly. “See you in the morning.”
“G’night, Roo.” You replied, hugging him, before getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Sweet dreams.”
You set your phone alarm for the middle of the night so that you could sneak down and put the gifts you’d gotten for Bradley under the tree and to fill a stocking you’d made him with treats and small stuff you’d picked up.
With the alarm set, you got ready for bed and slipped under the covers and laid there for a moment, thinking about Bradley just down the hall. You smiled thinking about the fun you’d had tonight with him and now easy it was to be with him. How easy he made it to love him. That’s the thought you fall asleep with.
When your alarm goes off at 3AM you turn it off and sleepily get out of the warm bed. You grab the bag with Bradley’s presents and stocking stuffers and quietly slip out of the bedroom, trying not to wake him on your way downstairs. When you reach the living room you stop in your tracks, seeing that at some point between when you’d both turned in and now, Bradley had had the exact same idea. He’d filled a stocking that had your name on it and hung it up on the fireplace mantle and had placed a gift under the tree for you as well. Looking at the coffee table, you giggled when you saw he’d even eaten part of a sugar cookie and some apple slices.
“Roo… you just had to go and steal my heart.” You whispered, shaking your head with a smile. You got to work, filling the stocking you’d made for him and placing it next to the one with your name on it. You’d found a website that sold unique stockings and managed to find one with a rooster on it. Once it arrived you’d gone to a craft store and doctored it up some more so the rooster was now wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a Santa hat and you’d asked Penny to help you embroider Bradley’s name on the top of the stocking. Overall you were pretty proud of the stocking…especially since you’d pulled it off in a week. With his stocking filled with all of his favorite candy, a gift card to his favorite coffee shop close to base, and a pair of rooster socks because you couldn’t resist, you moved on to putting his other gifts under the tree. The bigger of the gifts was one you really hoped he liked. It was one you’d had Mav help you with, wanting it to be perfect for Bradley. Before heading back up to bed you ate the rest of the sugar cookie that Bradley had started on and an apple slice to balance it out. For the first time since you could remember, you were actually looking forward to Christmas morning.
The next morning you woke up to the sun streaming in through the window next to the bed. Glancing at your phone you see it’s just past 7. You’re pretty sure Bradley is already up. One thing you know for sure about that man is he’s incapable of sleeping in. You stretch and get up, deciding you’re fine in your Navy tshirt and flannel shorts, you head into the bathroom to assess your hair, pee and brush your teeth before you head downstairs.
“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” Bradley greeted you when you walked into the kitchen. He handed you a mug with coffee already in it. “Peppermint mocha creamer already added, just the way you like it.”
“Merry Christamas, Roo.” You smiled, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek as you accepted the coffee, “You’re my hero.”
“It seems Santa and the elves were busy last night.” He winked, smiling at you as you looked at him over the top of your mug as you took a sip.
“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it.” You agreed, smiling back, your face heating. “It looks like he enjoyed the snacks… and so did the reindeer.”
“They did indeed.” He said, chuckling. “Come on, let’s get comfy in the living room. I’ll start the fireplace.”
“It’s like 65 degrees outside already,” You pointed out, “A fire in the fireplace might make it a little too toasty in here.”
“It’s Christmas!” He glared playfully, “We need a fire in the fireplace!”
“OK!” You laughed, “But when you’re sweating, no complaining.”
“Noted.” He said, setting his mug down and starting the gas for the fireplace. “Nice thing about a gas fireplace is if we get too hot, we just have to turn it off!”
“That’s cheating.” You laughed.
“But convenient.” He smirked, sitting down next to you. He grabbed his mug and took a sip, looking over at the fireplace. Swallowing the hot drink he said, “Sweetheart, I absolutely love my stocking. Thank you. It’s amazing. How did you even find such a perfect stocking?”
“I’m glad you like it.” You replied, smiling softly, “It was easy to find a rooster stocking, from there, I just added the rest of the details to make it more YOU.”
“Wait, you added the shirt and hat and added my name?” He asked, his eyes going wide.
“Well, Penny helped with your name… I’m not very good at embroidery.” You shrugged, “But the rest… yeah.”
“Y/N…” He said, jumping up to grab the stocking for a closer look. He grabbed it, along with yours while he was up and came back to the couch. He handed you yours and sat back down, “You MADE this!”
“I just cut out a tiny shirt shape and sewed it to the rooster.” You said, once again shrugging, feeling heat creep up over your neck and face. “The Santa hat was just felt so it’s glued together then sewn on. Honestly, Penny had the hard part.”
“Sweetheart, but you MADE this stocking… for ME.” He repeated, in awe. “That means the absolute world to me. I haven’t had a stocking… especially not one tailor made just for ME, since I was kid, celebrating Christmas with my mom.”
“I’m glad you like it, Roo.” You said, smiling quietly.
“I LOVE it, Sweetheart.” He said, leaning over to kiss your forehead.
“Look inside.” You said, smiling.
“Ok, but you need to look inside yours too.” He said, excitedly.
“Thank you for getting me a stocking, Roo.” You said, “I haven’t had one since I was kid either.”
The two of you set to work looking through your stockings.
“All of my favorites, Siren.” Bradley beamed, then laughed as he pulled out the socks and the gift card to the coffee shop. “Think I’d get away with wearing the socks with my uniform?”
“They’re definitely not regulation.” You laughed, “Better not chance it. You could rock them at the Hard Deck though.”
“Oh, I will, Sweetheart!” He promised.
You pulled out all of your favorite candies, the lip gloss that you always wear, a gift card to the same coffee shop across from base (you and Bradley both happened to love the coffee), and a pair of fuzzy socks with sloths on them. Apparently the two of you had the same idea when it came to stockings.
“Thanks, Roo.” You smiled, setting it all back inside the stocking and hugging him, “I love it all. Especially the fuzzy socks.”
“I vote we wear our crazy socks to the Hard Deck together.” He teased, hugging you back.
“I will happily wear crazy socks with you.” You laughed. “Open your presents!”
You jumped up to grab his presents to bring to him. You set the smaller ones down first then the bigger one behind them.
“Sweetheart, just having you here with me is more than enough.” He said, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“But I WANTED to.” You smiled, “Open!”
“Yes, Ma’am!” He laughed, grabbing one of the smaller ones first. He tore the paper off and opened the box to find an ornament inside. It was a San Diego Christmas ornament, featuring Fightertown. “This is really cool, Siren.”
“One thing I DO remember from when my family celebrated was we each got a new ornament each year. It was always from somewhere we’d been that year or something we’d done.” You said, “I figured, since we were spending the holiday together…in San Diego… you needed a San Diego ornament.”
“It’s perfect.” He smiled, “I love it.” He stood up and walked over to hang it on the tree, making sure it was visible. Before coming back he bent over and picked up the presents that were still under the tree. When he sat back down he set the gifts he brought back over in front of you. “These are for you. We can open our gifts together.”
“Bradley!” You exclaimed, “You already got me a present! And I absolutely love it! This is too much!”
“That didn’t count.” He said, “That was for Secret Santa. This is for CHRISTMAS. Besides, there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ where you’re concerned, Sweetheart.”
You looked at him for a moment, letting the feelings of happiness wash over you. You decided that before the holidays were over, you would tell Bradley how you felt. Bradley picked up one of the presents he’d set down in front of you and handed it to you, pouting playfully. You giggled taking it, but nudging him towards the rest of his presents.
You tore the paper from the small box, setting it aside before opening up the lid to reveal a charm bracelet nestled on velvet inside. You pulled the bracelet out to admire the small charms already dangling from the bracelet. There was a mermaid charm, a tiny super hornet charm, an anchor charm, and a Christmas tree charm.
“Roo!” You exclaimed, “It’s beautiful! I love it! These charms are all perfect! Help me put it on!”
“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled, helping secure it onto your wrist. “Nat actually helped me find the charms.”
“I love each one of them.” You beamed, admiring the bracelet on your wrist. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” He replied, watching you as you turned your wrist to look at each of the charms.
“Open another one of yours, Roo.” You said, lifting your head up to look at him, a permanent smile plastered on your face.
He chuckled, picking up another one from the coffee table. It was in a gift bag, so he took out the paper, and playfully tossed it at you, making you laugh. Inside was a tye dye Grateful Dead Tshirt and tickets to a show on their final tour that summer. You knew Bradley was a huge fan and you were excited when you’d gotten the pre-sale notification email after Thanksgiving.
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, a huge smile lighting up his face, “Y/N! Are you serious?”
“I took a wild guess that you might like them and would enjoy seeing the final tour.” You smirked.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even…” He said, looking at the tickets, then looking back at you before setting them all down and scooping you up, pulling you across the couch into a giant hug…one where you were practically on his lap. “Thank you… so much. I’m putting in for leave NOW for that whole WEEK … maybe I’ll just take that whole MONTH of leave so I don’t miss it! You’re coming with me, Siren.”
“You’re welcome, Roo” You laughed, hugging him back. Pulling back so you could sit up again, but not moving away from him, you continued “You can take whoever, don’t feel like it has to be me just because I got them for you. They’re for you to enjoy because I know you love their music.”
“OK, and I’m saying I’m taking YOU.” He insisted, “Because I WANT to take you with, and I’ll ENJOY the concert with you there with me, and I know for a fact that you ALSO like Grateful Dead. No arguments.”
“You win.” You said, surrendering to him, smiling as you shook your head. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to deny him anything at this point.
“Damn right I do!” He grinned, cheekily, winking. “Open your other present.”
“You’re bossy.” You said, playfully. His response was to stick out his tongue and hand you the other box he’d placed in front of you.
Laughing you tore the paper off and this time balled it up and tossed it at him before opening the box. You pulled out a photo album, glancing over at Bradley who looked a little nervous. You opened the cover and started to flip through the filled pages. Each page contained pictures of you with the squadron, both on base while at work and outside of work hanging out. One thing they all had in common was that you could feel the love of everyone shining through in each photo. The album was undeniable proof of what Bradley had told you the night of the Secret Santa exchange. Every single one of these people were your family. You loved them and they loved you. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, spilling over as you took in all of the photos. The last couple of pages before the album was left with spaces to add more pictures, were filled with pictures of just you and Bradley together. It was a mixture of selfies you’d taken and candid shots others had gotten when neither of you knew you were being photographed. The candid shots were your favorite. You reached up, wiping the tears off your cheeks, looking up at Bradley, who looked like he was holding his breath.
“Roo…” You whispered, unable to trust your voice, “This is… priceless. Thank you.”
He gently reached over, tucking a stray piece of hair that had fallen into your face, before tipping your chin up to hold your gaze.
“I know I told you that you had a family,” He said, his whiskey eyes staring into your own, a gentle smile playing on his lips, “But I felt that you needed to see the proof. The rest of the squad was happy to help and sent me pictures they all had on their phones. Nat said if you still need convincing after Christmas, she’ll be happy to reinforce the sisterly bond by slapping you silly. Don’t worry though, Sweetheart… I’ll keep you safe.”
You laughed at that, wiping at the tears again, trying to get a hold of yourself. “I completely believe that she’d follow through too.” You said, your voice thick, “I’m happy to report it won’t be needed though… I can’t deny what’s right in front of me, can I? It’s sometimes easy to miss or let yourself believe it’s not real, but looking at these pictures… We really are a chaotic family.”
“Yup.” He agreed, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs brushing the remaining tears from your face, “And we’re not going anywhere, Y/N.”
“Promise?” You asked quietly.
“Promise.” He replied, without hesitation. “Even if for some stupid reason the Navy decides to separate the Daggers…which Mav assures me they won’t anytime soon… we’d still be a family and would still make time for one another.”
“Ok.” You replied, deciding to put faith into him…to trust that your found family was permanent. “Open your last present, Roo.”
“Now who’s being bossy?” He teased, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head. You were really starting to melt with the forehead kisses. You decided that today, you’d trust in the magic of Christmas and tell him how you felt… you had a sneaking suspicion that the feelings might be reciprocated based on the last few pictures in the photo album.
“I had some help with this one…” You said, suddenly hit with nerves as he picked it up from the coffee table. You were second guessing now if this had been a good idea…despite Mav thinking it was. The box was on the bigger side…it had to be to fit the gifts inside. You didn’t want to use a bag for these.
Bradley tore the paper off and lifted the lid from the box before moving the tissue paper that had been carefully secured around each gift. Nestled inside the box were two memory bears. Actually only one was a bear, the other was made into a goose. They were made from the clothes of loved ones who had passed away and meant to be something of comfort. You had been given one as a child and it had meant a lot so the idea came to you one day when Bradley had been talking about how much he’d been missing his parents lately. Mav said he had a box of stuff left over and he was sure Bradley would love the gifts. The goose was mostly made from a uniform of Goose’s that had been in the box, but the lady who made it had managed to fashion a Hawaiian shirt from one of the shirts that had been in the box as well. She even added a mustache to the goose based on the photo you’d shown her. It had turned out adorable. Around its neck was an extra one of Goose’s dog tags on a chain but small enough where it couldn’t come off. The bear was made from one of Carol’s summer dresses and she’d sewn a dress from the extra material of Goose’s Hawaiian shirt to put on the bear. She had a small locket necklace around her neck and inside you’d placed tiny pictures. One side held a young Bradley, the other Nick and Carol.
Bradley lifted the goose from the box first, taking in all of the details, running his fingers over the material and the dog tags. Tears were filling his eyes now, spilling over, running silently down his cheeks. He held onto the goose on his lap as he pulled the box, repeating the process, taking in every detail, running his fingers over the material. His eye caught the locket. He gently lifted it and opened it, looking at the tiny pictures inside, a small gasp escaping him.
You sat completely still, afraid to move, just holding your breath… unsure if this had been a huge mistake.
Bradley, unable to formulate adequate words, gently placed the goose and bear back into the tissue paper inside the box and stood up. You felt your start to sink until he turned, and reached down for your hands, pulling you up from the couch.
He cupped your face gently, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes were red rimmed and watery, tears stained his cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him, hands splayed over his strong back.
“I can’t put into words how much those mean to me, Y/N.” He said, his voice gravely from emotions, “You are so fucking amazing, so perfect. So beautiful, thoughtful, sweet, so damn smart, and funny. You. Are. Everything.”
He rested his head against your own, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. You realized, this was the moment.
“Roo.” You whispered, pulling back to look at him. Taking a deep breath you continued, “Remember at the Secret Santa when you Jake were play fighting over me? At the end when you said you were my favorite and that I loved you more…?”
“I do remember that conversation.” He confirmed, smiling softly.
“You are.” You replied, looking up into his warm eyes, “I do… love you more than him… than anyone.”
“Y/N…Sweetheart.” Bradley said, holding eye contact, “I need to make sure that I am understanding exactly what you’re saying because this is too important for me to misunderstand or to screw up… when you say you love me more… Are we talking about love me as a friend but more than you love the others as friends? Or …”
“I’m so far gone IN love with you, Roo.” You clarified, unable to hold back, “Way more than a friend, although you ARE my best friend. Somewhere along the line I fell in love with you because you make it SO fucking easy to love you, but I thought there’s no way you’d see me as anything other than your friend so I just tried to push it down, but…”
“I love you too, Sweetheart.” He said, interrupting you this time, a smile spreading across his face, “Completely in love with you… to the point I’ve had Mav and Nat and… well everyone hounding me to speak up for months. I kept waiting for some kind of sign, but figured you just saw me as a friend… one of the squad.”
“We’re idiots.” You laughed, “That explains why Mav was so giddy when I asked for his help on your gifts.”
“Circling back to that…” He said, tilting your head back up to his, “Thank You. So fucking much. I love them. And you. I love you.”
“I’m glad you love them.” You replied, smiling up at him. “And I love you too, Roo.”
He leaned forward until his lips connected with your own in a gentle kiss. His soft lips on yours felt every bit as amazing as you’d dreamt. His mustache tickles your upper lip a bit. You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms tighter around him. His hands move, one cradling your head, the other moving down to your lower back, pulling you against him. His tongue licked over your lips seeking entry, which you immediately granted, opening and moving your tongue against his as the kiss deepened. The two of you remained locked in one another’s embrace until the need to breathe prevailed. You pulled apart only enough to drag air back into your lungs.
“I think this is the best Christmas ever.” You whispered, smiling up at him.
“The first one of a lifetime more together.” He promised, “Full disclosure, this Santa is hoping that he’s looking at his future Mrs. Santa.”
“What are you doing next Christmas?” You asked, looking up at him under your lashes with a smirk.
“Wifing you up!” He declared, laughing. “Gives me a few months to sweep you off your feet, plan the perfect proposal and still give us time to plan a Christmas wedding.”
“I like your plans,” You said, tiptoeing up to claim his lips in a kiss. His hands moved to lift you up to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bradley Bradshaw.”
“I love you Y/N Y/L/N.” He replied, stealing a kiss.
It had definitely been the best Christmas ever. You couldn’t wait for your friends to return so you could share it all with them… your family.
Another casualty of my main blog clean up. I knew I’d read this one before.
Rereading it, the gifts they gave each other still make me so emotional. Just 😭😭😭😭😭😭 And the reader finding family in the Dagger Squad. I’m still like 😭😭😭🥹
★ summary: getting called back to top gun was supposed to be just another mission, another means to an end. then bradley bradshaw smiled at you across the bar, and somewhere between dogfighting, late nights, and impossible odds you find something that feels a lot like heaven
★ pairing: bradley bradshaw x aviator!reader
★ warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, loosely follows tgm plot, inaccurate military everything probably, readers callsign is shadow, one night stand, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, cum play, dirty talk, big dick bradshaw
★ word count: 15.8k
★ notes: my first top gun fic ✈️☁️ i hope i did her justice! happy top gun summer <3
The moment your feet touched American soil, you could only think of three things: a greasy cheeseburger, a glass of top-shelf whiskey, and getting laid. Three things that did not happen on overseas naval bases.
You were practically jittering just thinking about it as you went through your reintegration briefings. By the time you finally hauled your suitcases into your apartment and unceremoniously dumped them across the living room floor, you barely spared the place a glance beyond making a mental note to leave your cleaning lady an extra tip. A scalding shower washed months of recycled air and ocean salt from your skin, and less than an hour later you were back behind the wheel, windows down, chasing the first taste of freedom you’d had in months.
Your old Mercedes-Benz 380SL rumbled into the gravel parking lot of the Hard Deck, the first bar your GPS had thrown your way. It had been years since you’d been back to Lemoore. Even then, memories of the place had long since dissolved beneath a haze of flight hours, classified missions, carrier deployments, and the relentless cycle of detachments that had followed your graduation from Top Gun. What little you did remember felt distant now, like recalling someone else’s life, but tonight that hardly mattered. All you wanted was a stiff drink, good food, and a reminder that you were finally home.
The place buzzed with the easy kind of noise only a military town dive bar could produce. Pool balls cracked against one another somewhere in the back, laughter spilled over the music pouring from the jukebox, and every other patron seemed to be wearing their khakis. Naval aviators were packed shoulder to shoulder around high-top tables, gold wings glinting beneath neon beer signs.
The open barstool was your oasis in the desert as you slid into it, sighing happily to see the tiny menu laminated and stuck to the bar.
The bartender, an older woman with the most beautiful skin you’ve ever seen, walked over. “What can I get you?”
“A cheeseburger,” you answered without hesitation. “The greasiest one you’ve got. Fries, too.”
She arched an eyebrow, amusement written all over her face.
“And a double of your best whiskey on the rocks.” You smiled widely as she nodded.
She placed the order and slid over a frosted glass for you before attending to someone across the bar. You took the time to check your phone, avoiding the real reason you were back here. You just wanted one night where it felt like you were you again, and not just property of the United States Navy.
“A greasy cheeseburger,” Penny, you learned, had slid the basket of food over to you.
If it were any other circumstance, you would have been embarrassed by the moan that left your mouth after your first bite.
“Good?” She asked, her hands pausing from shining a glass as she watched you.
You nodded, eyes nearly closed. “It’s perfect.”
A sharp laugh escaped her. “You just get back?”
Your eyes open, finally placing the burger down to take another drink. “How’d you know?”
You’re in civvies, and even have makeup on for the first time in months. But you reckon she’s worked here long enough to see it in every person that steps through the doors.
“Come on,” Her eyes are playful, “No one acts like that about those cheap burgers unless they haven’t had one in a while. How long?”
“Two years,” You sighed, “Haven’t been home for longer than a few months in about 5.”
She made a noise of understanding; her life had been so intertwined with the Navy for years, she knew just how much it takes from someone.
“Well, we’re glad to have you back. Hopefully it’s for a little longer this time.” She smiled, “Burgers on me.”
Your head snapped up. “Absolutely not.”
You were already reaching for your wallet when she held up a hand.
“My bar,” she said matter-of-factly. “My rules.”
“I can’t let you-”
“Tell you what.” She pointed toward the half-empty whiskey glass in front of you. “I won’t take your money unless you order another one of those. Then we’ll call it even.”
You laughed, shaking your head.
“Welcome home.”
She gave the bar a light tap with her knuckles before disappearing toward the kitchen, leaving you alone with the comfortable hum of conversation surrounding you.
By the time you finished, the basket in front of you held nothing but a few lonely fries and a crumpled sheet of wax paper slick with grease. You slid a crisp fifty-dollar bill beneath one of the coasters anyway, hoping she’d find it after you were gone, then tipped back the last swallow of whiskey. It burned all the way down, drawing a wince that settled into a satisfied smile as you set the empty glass back onto the bar with a quiet clink.
You slid off the barstool with a contented sigh, fishing your keys from your pocket as you prepared to call it a night. The burger had done its job. The whiskey had done its job even better. Maybe you’d save the third item on your list for another evening.
The front door swung open before you could take a single step.
A man ducked beneath the frame with the easy confidence of someone who’d been walking into the Hard Deck for years. Aviator sunglasses hung from the collar of a faded Hawaiian shirt, sleeves rolled carelessly to his forearms. Sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a mustache that made you stop in your tracks. He was navy, that much was obvious. He might as well have been a walking poster child for an aviator.
He slid onto the stool beside the one you’d just vacated, where you stood still half in and half out.
“You’re back,” Penny was already reaching for a bottle. “You’re here a few days before the crowd.”
“You know me too well.” He says. “I just couldn’t stay away, Penny. You know me.”
“Yeah, right.” She grinned.
He grinned, all practiced charm, and accepted the beer she slid across the counter.
It wasn’t usually your style to go after other Navy pilots. Too many complications. Too many chances of crossing paths again in some hangar halfway around the world, or discovering six months later that you’d unknowingly hooked up with someone from your own air wing.
As a rule, you avoided it.
But rules had exceptions. And tonight that exception had a mustache that you yearned to feel against your skin, and muscles flexing with each rise and fall of his arms.
Besides, out of the hundreds of aviators running through this town, what are the chances that he was one of the dozen who had been picked for this special assignment?
You eased back onto your stool as though you’d never intended to leave, setting your keys back onto the polished wood.
“Penny, my dear,” you called, a devilish smile tugging at your lips. “Think I could trouble you for another whiskey?”
She didn’t even look at the register, or you as you tried to slide your card across the bar. Instead, she plucked the folded fifty-dollar bill from beneath the coaster and held it up between two fingers.
“I told you,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “My bar. My rules.”
You sighed, snatching the card back. “I was hoping you wouldn’t see that until I left.”
She slid the bill back across the bar toward you before reaching for the whiskey bottle anyway.
“First refill’s still on the house.” Before you could protest again, the man beside you leaned an elbow onto the bar, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You can’t get one past Penny.”
You turned toward him. “That so?”
He nodded solemnly, though the grin threatening his mouth ruined any attempt at seriousness. “Trust me. You don’t want to end up on her bad side.”
”He’s learned the hard way.” Penny smirks, dropping off your drinks before she decides that she knows exactly what’s happening between the two strangers.
Bradley turns to you, his gaze wandering from your boots to your jeans, lingering for the briefest second on the low cut of your top before finally settling on your eyes. There was nothing crude about it. If anything, it was almost appreciative, accompanied by the smallest lift of one corner of his mouth when he realized you’d caught him.
”So,” He starts, “What brings you here?”
It’s such a cliché line; it almost makes you laugh. You hold up your glass, swirling around the amber liquid and the ice together. “This.”
He clinks your glasses together, “Touche.”
There’s a brief lull, the two of your eyes shamelessly on each other.
“I’m Bradley.” He offers.
You give him your name with a smile, and he immediately repeats it back after you. As if he’s testing the shape of it in his mouth, but not for the first time tonight he’s decided.
The conversation moves easily after that, effortless in a way that surprises you. You don’t talk about work. Neither of you ask the obvious questions. You don’t mention where you’ve been, and he doesn’t ask why you look like someone who hasn’t slept properly in months. He doesn’t elaborate when he mentions not being home in almost a year, and you don’t express your same sentiments about it.
You’re just two strangers sitting at a bar pretending, for a few hours, that the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Music comes up first, some argument over whether old records are better than anything made now. He has strong opinions, the kind that make you laugh because he says them with complete confidence.
“You’re very opinionated for someone I just met,” you say, resting your chin lightly against your hand.
He looks at you over the rim of his beer, which Penny silently dropped off. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you’re usually right.”
A slow grin pulls across his face. “I usually am.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “That might be the most annoying answer you could’ve given. God.”
“And yet you’re still sitting here.”
The way he says it is cocky, but honest. There’s no malice in it, just the darkening of his eyes. It’s just an observation, and maybe that’s what makes it worse. He’s right. You could have left an hour ago. You had already gotten almost everything you came here for. The burger, the whiskey, the small piece of normal life you’d been craving since you stepped off that plane. But you were exactly where you wanted to be, with his eyes desperately trying not to look down your shirt with each flirty glance you threw his way.
When last call came, you were shocked to look at the clock and realize it had been hours since Bradley slid into the seat next to you. The Hard Deck had slowly emptied around you without either of you really noticing. The loud groups of aviators had filtered out one by one, the music had been turned down, and the warm buzz of conversation had faded into the quiet sounds of closing.
Somehow, through all of it, the two of you had stayed exactly where you were, caught somewhere between wanting the night to end and not wanting to be the one who ended it.
Bradley glances around at the emptying bar before looking back at you, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
“I think we’re getting kicked out.”
You look around, pretending to be surprised by the chairs being lifted onto tables and Penny wiping down the counter.
Eventually, you slide off the stool, grabbing your phone and your keys.
“Goodnight, Penny.” You wave goodbye.
Penny looks up from behind the bar, already knowing exactly what she’s looking at.
“Stay out of trouble, you two.”
There’s something about the way she says it that makes you feel like she means more than the words themselves.
You smile. “Always.”
He bids her goodbye as well, before turning back to you.
“Let me walk you to your car?” He asks, and it makes you chuckle. The two of you are circling it, both of you just itching and waiting for the other person to make the first move.
The two of you step outside together, the cool California night air immediately replacing the warmth of the bar. The parking lot is quieter now, the gravel crunching beneath your shoes as you both slowly make your way out.
Your shoulders brush on the short walk, before you’re leaning against the side of your car.
A low whistle escapes him. “No way.”
You glance back. “What?”
He looks between you and the Mercedes, impressed despite himself. “That’s yours?”
You smile, suddenly a little more proud than you mean to be.
“Yeah, I helped rebuild her a few years back.”
“God, you’re a dream. You, not the car.” He walks around the front of it slowly, appreciating the lines of the car. “But the car's great too. Gorgeous car for a gorgeous girl.”
Your cheeks warm; before you can respond, your eyes drift past him toward the other side of the parking lot.
“And I’m guessing that’s yours?”
He turns, following your gaze.
A bright blue Bronco sits under one of the parking lot lights, standing out against the rows of ordinary cars.
“That obvious?”
You blow out a playful puff of air. “Yeah, kinda.”
His body is still only a few inches away from yours, close enough that you can feel the warmth coming off him despite the cool night air. Close enough that you’re both very aware of the fact that neither of you has actually said goodnight, and that neither of you really want to.
“Well, I guess I’m gonna-“ You go to turn, before he says your name in his deep tone.
You turn back to face him, and he steps closer, your back pressing harshly against your car door. His body cages yours in, close enough that the space you’ve been carefully dancing around all night finally disappears.
“Can I?” The question is quiet, almost lost beneath the sound of the distant waves and the empty parking lot around you.
You answer by closing the distance.
The first touch of his lips against yours is everything you expected and somehow nothing like you imagined. Warm, certain, and long overdue after hours of pretending you weren’t both waiting for this exact moment. His mustache brushes against your skin, and the small laugh that escapes you is swallowed by the kiss because somehow that detail you’d been thinking about all night is even better than you had pictured.
Up close, he smells like sandalwood and something unmistakably him, a trace of the night air and jet fuel clinging to his clothes. He tastes like whiskey and heaven.
You rise onto your toes, your hands finding their way around his neck and pulling him closer, though there’s barely any space left between you. His hand settles at your waist, steadying you, and for a few minutes there is no bar, no tomorrow, no reason to think beyond this moment.
The kiss is hot and messy. Two people who had clearly been aching for this moment for longer than they’d be willing to admit. His hands are roaming shamelessly, gripping your ass harshly through the fabric of your jeans. The touch has you mewling into his mouth, your hands reaching up to harshly grip at his sun-kissed locks.
When the two of you finally pull apart enough to remember that you’re in public and the night eventually has to move forward, you give him your address. He repeats it back with that same little smile he had when he first said your name, like he’s committing it to memory.
He leaves you with one more kiss, alongside a wink that has your body shivering in anticipation.
“See you soon.” He says, and you watch him jog to his car with a pep in his step.
When you get into your Mercedes and see his blue Bronco following behind you through the quiet California streets, you realize you aren’t thinking about anything else at all.
Bradley is by your side the moment he steps out of the car, even as your hand is in his, dragging him up the stairwell. He’s making it difficult by pushing you against the wall every few seconds, his lips harsh against yours. His mouth moves down your neck to your collarbone, sucking and biting at your sensitive flesh. You’re so dazed by the sensation you nearly drop your keys.
“You,” Your breath is not as steady as you willed it to be, “Bradley, are trouble.”
“Yeah?” He pants, his hands heavy on your hips as he stands behind you. The press of his bulge in his pants presses against your back. He presses a little further, teasing as your hands fumble with the locks.
“Yes.” You bite back a moan, finally getting the key inside of the lock.
“If you were wearing a little dress,” He whispered with a soft kiss to your earlobe, “I’d take you right here against the door. Let everyone know just how good m’making you feel.”
The whiskey has warmed your veins, but not enough to do something as reckless as that. Even if he makes it sound good. Even if the thought has you clenching your thighs together and dragging him into your now open apartment door.
He slams the door behind him, stalking you through the hall as you both shed your belongings in various places. Keys are thrown on counters, shoes are kicked off god knows where, and you’re pulling his egregiously bright shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor.
He bends down and picks you up in one swift motion, making you squeal. Your hands are clinging to those biceps you were drooling about earlier, your thighs wrapped around his waist.
There’s no time before his tongue is in your mouth again, carrying you blindly across your apartment’s layout. It’s when he realises he has no idea where he’s going that he pulls away.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He pants.
You laugh; it’s ugly and loud, but it makes Bradley’s eyes sparkle at the sound of it.
“Down the hall, last door on the left.” You giggle, and he takes you right there. Slamming the door with his foot, you’re amazed by his athleticism when you’re gently pressed against your mattress.
You both take a moment, lost in the moment and each other's eyes before there’s a reminder of why you're there in the first place. Clothes are being tugged at, jeans discarded on the floor as you fumble around with your top.
He helps lift the fabric off your shirkers, his eyes darkening at the sight of your lacy bra.
“You know,” He whispers, mouth dry, “Been trying not to stare at your tits all night.”
“I know.” You sigh contentedly, your hands running up and down his rock-hard abs. The small trail of hair leading into his boxers tickled your fingertips. “Why do you think I wore this shirt?”
“I’m really-” He unclasps your bra with one hand, lips trailing down your neck, “A respectful gentleman. But god. These are perfect.”
Your giggle is cut off with a moan when his mouth attaches itself to your hardened buds, his other hand palming your tits harshly. The soft tickle of the hair above his lips makes you moan his name gently.
“You know,” You start, copying him, “I've been imagining what that mustache feels like against me since the moment I saw you.”
He pauses for a brief moment, his honey brown eyes flickering up to you, where your nipple was still in his mouth.
“Really?” He hums, pulling away with a soft strand of spit attached to his glossy lips.
You nod, propping yourself up on your elbows. Your thumb reaches out to wipe away the spit, softly petting his upper lip.
“You’re so fucking hot.” You admit, as he takes your thumb into his mouth with a pop.
“Says you.”
Within seconds, you're pushed onto your back again, your head falling back into the pillows. His hands are traveling down your body, his thumbs hooked into the side of your soaked panties.
“How do you feel about feeling this mustache against this sweet little cunt?”
He has barely touched you, and your eyes are already rolling into the back of your head at his words alone. “Fuck, yes. Please.”
The barely there fabric is dragged down your legs and tossed somewhere far away as Bradley’s fingertips dig harshly into your thighs. His breath is hot and teasing as he kisses up and down your inner thighs before settling exactly where you need him.
His tongue drags experimentally up your wet heat before his lips wrap harshly around your throbbing clit.
“Oh god.” You whimper, your legs tensing in his hold as he took his time slowly lapping against you. It was slow, sloppy, and the hottest thing a man had ever done to you. His own moans were muffled into your cunt, as he devoured you like a man starved.
As long as it had been for you, it felt like it had been even longer for him. He ate you out like he was relishing the fact you were even letting him. His mustache brushing against your sensitive skin, just enough to add more fuel to your already burning pleasure. You were a babbling mess, your hands alternating between tugging at his hair and gripping the sheets like a lifeline.
With a frantic cry of his name and a harsh tug on his hair, you came against his mouth. It was glorious, as he coaxed you through your high, his frantic moans of encouragement spurring you on while his own hips ground gently against the sheets for the slightest bit of relief.
“You taste incredible.” Was the first thing he said when he came back up for air, his face wet and glistening from your release.
Your chest was heaving, your stomach rolling at his words. “Come here.”
Who was he to deny your beckoning finger? He pulled his boxers down swiftly, his hard cock slapping the skin harshly once it was free from its confines. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. It was long and veiny, a thick patch of curly hair at the base.
You almost said a thank-you prayer to god, who was clearly not in the room.
“Like what you see?” He asked, his voice thick with anticipation as he crawled back onto the bed in between your legs.
“You know,” You sighed once his lips pressed gently to your neck, “Most cocky men aren’t always packing; can’t be too sure.”
A giggle escaped you as he laughed against you, the damp hair tickling your neck. “Cocky?”
“The cockiest.” You tease, wrapping your legs around his toned thighs, pulling him closer to you. “Now come on, give me your cock.”
He shakes his head gently; he almost thinks he could fall in love with you right here.
“Yes, mam.” He presses his lips to yours again, your mouth opening instinctively for him. You could taste yourself against his tongue as he pressed against your weeping cunt. He pushed into you slowly, each of you letting out sighs of relief into each other's mouths.
He was dragging himself inside of you once inch at a time, the hot drag making your body feel aflame.
“God,” Your nails dug into his forearms, “You’re so b-big.”
“Taking me s’well.” He spoke through his teeth, his eyes furrowed shut to avoid already finishing from how tight, warm, and wet you were wrapped around him.
When his hips met yours, his thighs trembling. His lips kissing and sucking at whatever bare skin of yours he could reach as you molded around him. The first thrust took both of your breaths away, as he pulled halfway out of you before sinking back in.
“Fuck.” You cried out, pulling him close as he began to fuck into you expertly.
It had been a long time, too long, so any sex would have sufficed, but this man was sex on legs and knew exactly how to angle his hips to make your eyes roll in the back of your head.
Your heels press harshly in the back of his thighs, urging him to keep going as he found a rhythm that had both of you melting into each other. It’s otherworldly, the feeling of him stretching you out on each lewd slap of his hips against yours.
You can feel his hand slide down your slick skin to widen your legs for him, his eyes looking down to where he was sliding in and out of you.
“God,” He groans, his palm pressing against your lower stomach, “Taking me like a fucking dream. S’good baby? Tell me how fucking good it is.”
“L-like I said, cocky.” You tried to tease, but instead it came out breathy and shaky.
“You like it,” He grinned, slamming himself even harder into you. “She fucking loves it; she’s screaming for me.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him referring to your cunt as a ‘she’, but you couldn’t think of anything as he pounded into you. Especially not when the pads of his fingers find your clit. The bed was creaking loudly, and you couldn’t get the taste of his name out of your mouth as he talked you through it.
Your release comes quicker than you thought it would, and Bradley’s thankful because with each jolt of your tits as he thrusts, he was worried he was going to cum inside of you.
“M’gonna cum.”
He leans down, pressing you harder into the bed. His lips against your neck.
“Cum around my cock, there you go.” He cooed, as you threw your head back in pleasure, “Fuck you’re so beautiful cumming around me.”
If he thought you cumming on his tongue was perfect, this was otherworldly.
He’s nearly growling as you clench around him, your release pulling him even deeper inside of you. His hips lose their rhythm, stuttering as his jaw drops.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s gritting his teeth together when your still trembling legs pull him even closer. When he can’t take it anymore, he pulls out of you harshly, his hand wrapping around his cock and tugging harshly until thick ropes of his cum splatter on your lower stomach. His eyes are shut, his abs glistening and tensing, and pleasure is written all over his face as he whimpers out.
You bask in the haze for a moment, both of your panting breaths syncing as you tried to catch your breath. You were still seeing stars behind your eyelids when the bed shifted.
“Let me get you a washcloth.” He whispered, kissing your forehead gently. You remember the soft drag of the cloth, cleaning you up, and how he wrapped you softly in the sheets. Exhaustion and orgasmic bliss had seeped deep inside of your bones, your eyes fluttering shut.
There’s not much to remember after that.
You wake up to the feeling of your bed shifting, which makes you freeze. Your eyes open lazily to see the naked man rolling out of your bed, only covered by the thin top sheet wrapped around his waist. You watch him with amusement, as the memories of last night come flooding back to you. When he not-so-subtly sneaks out of the bed, he jumps when he looks back to see your now awake frame.
“H-hey,” He whispers, his voice slowly getting more high-pitched, “Good morning. How are you?”
You have to bite your lip to stifle your laugh, “Good morning.”
“I uh,” He starts, still clutching the sheet like a lifeline, which gives you a wonderful view of his v-line as he awkwardly stands there, “I uh have this work thing? I swear I wasn’t just gonna sneak out on you.”
”Yeah, you were.” You whispered in amusement.
“N-no!” His voice sounds even higher than before, “No, no I swear-“
“I’m not-” You start, but your voice is so hoarse, and you don’t know if it’s from the whiskey or screaming his name all night long. “I’m not looking for anything serious. I’m not home very much.”
He visibly relaxes, all the panic draining from his face. “Fuck, thank god. Neither am I. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here.”
You laughed outright this time, sinking farther into the tangled sheets. “By all means,” you teased through a yawn. “Sneak out.”
The blanket slipped carelessly down your shoulder as you reached overhead, exposing a sliver of bare skin before you noticed. His eyes betrayed him almost instantly, flickering toward you before he caught himself and jerked them back up to your face with all the subtlety of a teenage boy. A faint flush crept up his neck.
“Last night was really fun.” He added softly, “Like really fun.”
”Yeah, it was.” You smiled lazily at the man as he awkwardly scooped his clothes up from the floor.
It’s a comfortable yet awkward silence as he shuffles around. You wrapped the blanket tightly around yourself before climbing out of bed, the hardwood cold beneath your feet. Every step reminded you of the night before, your muscles aching pleasantly enough to make you smile despite yourself.
“I’ll walk you out.”
He nodded, falling into step behind you.
Just before you reached the front door, he tipped an imaginary hat with exaggerated politeness.
”Well,” You breathed out, “Thanks for last night.”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “Thank you.”
For a second neither of you moved. He stood in your doorway with his boots finally laced, hair still hopelessly messy from your fingers, while you remained wrapped in nothing but your blanket, hoping the neighbors weren't there to side-eye you.
“Well...” You smiled, rocking back on your heels. “Have a good life-”
“Oh, hey.”
His hand slipped between the door and the frame before you could close it, earning an amused look from you.
“If you ever end up back at the Hard Deck…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “And you want to grab a whiskey or something…” His grin returned, hopeful but entirely unassuming. “I’d be down.”
You couldn’t help smiling again. I’ll probably never see you again, Bradley.”
His smile lingered for another heartbeat before he took a step backward into the hallway.
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Bradley.”
You closed the door before you could watch him disappear toward the elevators.
The door was slammed before you had a chance to watch him walk to the elevators. It was better this way, easier.
By Monday morning, it already felt like another life.
Your apartment looked like a staging area more than a home. Flight gear was spread across the kitchen table beside intelligence reports, satellite imagery, weather data, and a stack of folders stamped with enough black ink to make it a waste of paper. A half-packed duffel sat open on the couch while your phone buzzed relentlessly somewhere beneath a pile of paperwork.
You answered it with a grunt, shrugging your bag over your shoulder. “Mav, I’m on my way in-“
“Change of plans, meet me in the hangar, get your flight suit on.” His voice crackled through the receiver, making you pause in the middle of your kitchen.
“You sure about this, old man?”
When Maverick met with the graduates regarding the mission, it went better than he expected, all things considered. A few cocky pilots and pissed-off admirals were the least of his worries with the weight they were putting on his shoulders. He went to dismiss them into flight checks before practice, before he paused.
”Before we get started,” Maverick said, waiting until the room settled, “there’s one more thing.”
A few heads lifted from the mission packets scattered across their desks.
“An additional aviator has been assigned to this detachment; you haven’t met them yet.”
That immediately drew a few curious glances around the room.
“For the past several years, Lieutenant Y/l/n has been conducting surveillance for this mission.” Maverick gestured toward the topographical map projected across the screen. “Every route you’ve studied, every radar profile you’ve reviewed, every piece of reconnaissance you’ve been briefed on has her fingerprints all over it.”
The easy chatter that had filled the room moments before disappeared.
“She’ll be flying this mission alongside you,” Maverick continued. “Whoever is selected as strike lead, Lieutenant Y/l/n will be their wingman.”
Hangman leaned back in his chair, looking around the room as though she’d been hiding in plain sight the entire time.
“Where is this elusive stealth pilot?” he asked, pointing theatrically around the room. “I’d kinda like to know who’s gonna be flying next to me.”
A few quiet laughs rippled through the room. Another eye roll from Phoenix, a scoff from Rooster.
Maverick only smiled.
“Oh,” he said, gathering the folders from the podium. “You’ll meet her.”
Within minutes, the briefing shifted into flight assignments and simulation parameters, and the conversation drifted back to fuel loads, attack profiles, and timing windows. The mysterious pilot was almost forgotten about as practice teams started.
For the next several hours, the team ran through formation exercises and simulated combat scenarios, pushing each other harder with every pass. Maverick was currently putting them through the wringer in dogfighting. You hid in the shadows, just outside of reach, watching them the entire time. It was three rounds of pilots before you decided to make your entrance.
”Uh..” Bob’s hesitant voice crackled over the frequency, uncertainty bleeding through even beneath his practiced calm.
“Where is he, Bob?” Phoenix demanded, craning her neck beneath the canopy, her eyes darting across the empty sky where Maverick had disappeared only moments before. A beat of silence stretched just long enough for panic to settle in.
“I d-don’t know,” He yelled back, the radar empty below him, “Is he? He’s underneath us!”
“Nope.” Maverick’s voice arrived with infuriating confidence. “I’m right here.”
His jet erupted into view directly ahead of them, slicing through the clouds with effortless precision.
“Wrong, Bob,” Phoenix muttered, instinctively checking behind her as she tried to speed up to meet Maverick.
The coms crackled loudly, “Below, below, Phoenix,” Bradley warned, his voice sharper now as something flickered beneath her aircraft.
She jerked the jet up, “What?”
“It’s not hitting the radar; who is it?” Bob asked, his palms against the glass.
Then a voice, bright with amusement, cut across every frequency.
“Hi, everyone.” You chuckled.
Every head snapped downward.
“This is Lieutenant Y/l/n speaking. I’ll be assisting you all on this mission. I’m sure Maverick mentioned me.”
Your F-18 was so impossibly close beneath Phoenix’s that, for several seconds, you’d been swallowed entirely by her shadow, matching every movement so perfectly you looked like an extension of her own jet. It was an old trick, one that required absurd precision, nerves of steel, and absolute trust in your own instincts. Against the glare of the morning sun, there had been nothing to see until you wanted to be seen. Especially not as everyone was focused on Maverick.
“Joining the fight?” Rooster asked, trying to pretend he wasn’t both equally amused and terrified of the stunt you just pulled.
You peeled away with a smooth roll, dropping toward the hard deck so low it made Bob suck in a breath over the radio before leveling out. Across the valley, Rooster’s aircraft broke from the pack, immediately catching your attention. Your helmet turned first. Your jet followed a heartbeat later.
“There she goes,” Maverick murmured, almost sounding pleased.
You immediately lit the burners.
The distance between you and Bradley evaporated with frightening speed. He caught the movement in his mirror just as your nose slipped inside his turn, matching him through every evasive maneuver. He climbed. You climbed. He rolled. You rolled tighter. The missile tone shrieked through his headset before he’d even finished trying to shake you.
“Tone, tone, tone.”
You laughed over the comms as the simulated kill registered. “Fox Two.”
Bradley groaned loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Maverick couldn’t hide the grin in his own voice.
“That, everyone… is Shadow.”
For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Phoenix let out a low whistle. “…Badass.”
“Lesson one,” You said. “The most dangerous pilot in the sky isn’t the one you can see, it’s the one you can’t.”
The engines had barely finished whining down before you were climbing out of the cockpit, helmet tucked beneath your arm, adrenaline still buzzing pleasantly beneath your skin. Heat shimmered off the tarmac as the canopy lifted, and you couldn’t stop the grin stretching across your face, the kind that only came after a flight where everything had gone exactly right. Maverick was already waiting beside the line of parked fighters. Sunglasses hiding whatever smug expression you knew was underneath them.
“Hell of an entrance, Y/n.”
You laughed, accepting the quick side hug before bumping his shoulder with your own. “An entrance you orchestrated.”
“I think it showed, em.” He offered, leading your way into the hangar where the rest of them stood surrounding the radios.
You scanned across the crowd as you approached, taking in the faces of the pilots you would be flying beside. Most of them looked exactly as you expected, curious, skeptical, still trying to figure out who exactly had been hiding underneath the radar for the past few hours. You offered them a small smile.
“Lieutenant Y/l/n,” you began, your voice carrying through the hangar. “I know most of you have already met me in the air, but I figured an actual introduction was probably overdue. We know Maverick has a flair for the dramatics.”
A few quiet laughs moved through the group.
“I’ve been assigned to this mission as your reconnaissance specialist and wingman. I’ve spent the last few years collecting intel on the target area, studying the terrain, the defenses, and every possible route in and out. My job was to make sure you have as much information as possible before we ever leave the ground.”
You continued speaking, settling into the familiar rhythm of a briefing, until your eyes moved across the group one more time. Until you paused; a familiar face standing among the pilots was a face you had not expected to see. A mustache, messy brown hair, and an expression that shifted from curiosity to complete disbelief the second he recognized you.
”And uh-“ Your words caught somewhere between your thoughts and your mouth. For one brief second, the confident lieutenant who had slipped beneath their radar disappeared, replaced by the woman standing in her apartment doorway a few days ago watching one Bradley Bradshaw walk away.
His face mirrored yours, confusion and shock before a small smirk of satisfaction pulled at his lips. He was shaking his head, a small laugh of amusement nearly slipping out at the absurdity of it all.
You cleared your throat nervously, looking anywhere but in his direction as you continued. “As I was saying, my role is to make sure everyone here has what they need to get home.”
“I’m here because Maverick asked me to pass along a skill set that’s kept me alive more than once, and if it helps even one of you make it home when this stops being practice and starts becoming real, then I’ve done my job. Nobody in this room needs another lecture about being the best pilot. You’re already here because you’re among the best. What keeps people alive isn’t talent. It’s trusting the person flying next to you enough to know they’ll be exactly where you need them when everything goes sideways.”
A few deserved glances towards Hangman’s way make your brows quirk up.
“And you, Hangman.” You set your helmet down on one of the desks, a little harder than necessary as you rounded to the man sitting casually, “You pulling that shit out there? Do you think that makes you more of a man? To leave someone hanging like that?”
“They can’t keep up-“
“Or maybe you can’t follow rules to save your life. You wanna be wing leader? Not in my world, Lieutenant. I may not have final say, but I’ll be damned if I’m up in the sky with only you looking out for me.”
Hangman held your stare, his ridiculous smirk not budging in the slightest.
“Well, aren’t you something, Shadow.” He said, playing completely unfazed as per usual.
You held the eye roll back for the sake of professionalism and spun on your heels. “I have a feeling,” you replied as you turned on your heel, “this is going to be a very long few weeks.”
A laugh echoed somewhere behind you. “It sure is,” Rooster chimed in.
The sound of his voice sent an involuntary chill down your spine.
You refused to look back, to acknowledge him in any way.
Instead, you busied yourself gathering your notes while Maverick wrapped up the remainder of the briefing, assigning study material and dismissing everyone for the evening. Conversations immediately broke out around the hangar as pilots compared notes from the day’s exercises, arguing over dogfights, laughing about blown maneuvers, and already trying to size one another up before tomorrow’s training.
The second Maverick dismissed the room, you slipped out a side door before anyone could stop you, weaving through the maintenance bays toward the locker rooms with your helmet tucked beneath your arm. If Bradley had recognized you, and judging by the look on his face, he absolutely had, you weren’t quite ready for that conversation yet.
Most of the squad was still lingering in the hangar, giving you just enough time to shower away the sweat and lingering smell of the cockpit. Hot water beat against your shoulders until the tension slowly began to loosen, though it did very little to quiet your racing thoughts.
He was good (really, he was good at a lot of things, but you really tried your best not to go there). There was a high chance he’d be selected to fly wing leader, so you couldn’t avoid him forever.
You pulled on a fresh shirt and jeans before stuffing your flight suit into your duffel bag. Your locker slammed shut with a metallic clang as you zipped the bag over your shoulder.
“Well, well.” The voice came from directly behind you. “I thought you said we’d probably never see each other again.”
You closed your eyes for the briefest moment before letting out an amused sigh. “Funny,” you muttered as you turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Bradley leaned casually against the row of lockers. His hair was still damp with sweat from the flight, stubborn curls refusing to stay where they’d been pushed. A dark streak of grease was smudged across his forehead, and his flight suit hung open around his waist, revealing a sweat-soaked olive undershirt that made him look like every tag chaser's wet dream.
He caught you looking, and there was that cocky smirk again.
“I swear,” you said before he had the chance to speak, lifting a hand in surrender, “I wasn’t given a roster. I had no idea who was getting called back for this mission. I have the same clearance as you, and Mav didn’t tell me anything.”
He held his hands up, “I believe you. You looked like you were gonna shit yourself up there.”
“I just didn’t know,” you began, shaking your head as you searched for the right words, already aware you were dangerously close to overexplaining yourself. “I figured you were a pilot. I mean, obviously. I just had no idea you’d be called back for this mission specifically.”
“I’m just that good, sweetheart.”
You hated this; you hated how you somehow managed to hook up with the hottest man alive who just so happened to be the man you were more than likely going to have to put your life in his hands in just a matter of a short few weeks.
“So am I.” You barked back automatically, perhaps a reflex from years of being looked down upon as a woman in this field.
“No one’s managed to get a lock on me in years,” he continued, holding your gaze without the slightest hint of teasing now. “Then you show up out of nowhere, tuck yourself underneath Phoenix’s shadow, and stick yourself on my six before I even knew you were there.”
The way he said it, the admiration in his voice and the glazed look in his eyes. It made your body ache, a subtle warmth growing in your lower belly.
“You gave me a fight, a little one anyway.” You whispered, teasingly.
“I was caught off guard,” he defended, shifting on his feet, “I’d love to go head to head with you up there. No rules. Would be a real sight to see.”
You forced yourself to clear your throat, breaking eye contact before your thoughts wandered elsewhere. The conversation had drifted dangerously close to sounding like foreplay, only this time the setting wasn’t your apartment.
“We’re professionals.” You nodded once, convincing yourself as much as him. “We can fly this mission together without there being any issues. Right?”
Bradley considered you for a moment, humming thoughtfully before his gaze drifted from your eyes. It wandered, entirely unapologetically, over your face, your shoulders, down just enough to make your pulse quicken before lazily returning to meet your eyes again.
“Yeah,” he replied, taking his time with the answer. “I think we can.”
“Oh, don’t do that.” You groaned, leaning your head on the locker.
He blinked with exaggerated innocence. “Do what?”
“You know exactly what.”
A fake gasp escaped him as he pressed a hand dramatically against his chest.
“Excuse me?” he said, sounding thoroughly offended. “You’re the one looking me up and down.”
A flush crept up your neck as you ripped yourself upright. “I was not.”
He just stood there, crooked smile still on his face. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
You could feel his gaze on you, even as you attempted to gather your belongings.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” he asked, laughing again.
“Looking at me like you’ve seen me naked.” You seethe out, throwing the bag over your shoulder.
“Oh,” he replied with entirely too much satisfaction. “But I have.”
A groan escaped you as you dragged a hand down your face. “We can’t do this. Seriously, no one on the squad can find out. It was just one night. Besides, we agreed it was nothing serious. We’re adults. Adults have one-night stands all the time.”
“Agreed.” He says, and you can’t find it in yourself to believe him with that smirk still beaming.
“I just don’t want it to complicate the mission.” You settled on, “We need to be able to work together.”
Bradley studied you for a moment before nodding, the teasing still lingering in his eyes even if he chose not to push any further.
”I agreed, Shadow.”
He let your callsign roll easily off his tongue, smiling as though he’d been waiting all day for an excuse to use it. Something about hearing it from his lips made your stomach do an annoyingly noticeable little flip. The same lips that- yeah, you needed to leave.
“Goodbye, Rooster.”
You didn’t need to turn to know that he watched you leave, each sway of your hips intentional as you slammed the door behind you.
The weeks that followed were on such a tight schedule you hardly had time to think about that fateful night. Training began before sunrise and rarely ended before dusk, each day blending seamlessly into the next as Maverick pushed the squad harder than any of them thought possible. Your chest ached at the end of each night, G’s making your lungs ache on the walk back to your car. Tensions were high as Rooster and Hangman competed against each other for the wing leader spot.
You knew it would be Bradley; there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. The mission suggestion was all but written up the moment Hangman left you in the air over a dozen times in the first round of simulations. He was a good pilot, a fearless one, but he would get everyone killed, and you knew Maverick knew it too.
Even with this, the squad slowly started to become your family. Bob and Phoenix were impossible not to like, and before long the four of you had fallen into an easy rhythm of grabbing late-night dinners after training or ending particularly brutal days at the Hard Deck, trading stories over greasy burgers and pitchers of beer while Payback and Fanboy argued over pool in the background. Even Hangman and Coyote occasionally wandered over to stir the pot before inevitably insulting Bradley enough to start another dick measuring contest, as you and Phoenix called it.
“They’re measuring again.” She’d whistle with a shiver of disgust from where she sat beside you.
You’d roll your eyes, “Should we bring out the rulers, boys?”
“Yeah, you’d like that, huh, Shadow?” Hangman would smirk, sending a filthy wink your way.
Bradley’s jaw would clench at that, before his Rooster persona was back on. “I think we all know I’d win, right Shadow?”
You’d roll your eyes and gulp down the rest of your beer, pretending like your heart wasn’t racing.
You got to know Bradley, the real Bradley Bradshaw that was behind the cloak of Rooster. He talked about growing, about his mother, about Goose, though those conversations came much later and only after the bar had emptied. He told you about how he puked the first time he took Gs, and you exchanged deployment horror stories. You learned about his friendship with Phoenix and his ongoing feud with Hangman, and how it all started years back
The first time someone convinced him to climb onto the piano for you at the Hard Deck, you laughed so hard you nearly slid right out of the booth. Phoenix caught your arm before gravity could finish the job, shaking her head as Bradley belted out Great Balls of Fire with absolutely no shame. He was in his element, and it looked good on him. Almost too good.
You’d catch yourself staring at him a little too much, letting your mind wander to places they shouldn’t go. During lessons, you’d find yourself watching his back, your eyes lingering on the scar on his chin, or the curl that always escaped out of his helmet when he showed up to practice with damp hair.
Flying with him was a different ballpark, so different from being with him in between the sheets. It was almost more intimate, getting to know someone so quickly and so deeply. You knew when he was about to push a maneuver harder than planned because his breathing changed just enough over the comms for you to hear it. He learned you always checked high before low, that you favored patience over impulse, and that whenever you said, “I’ve got you, Rooster,” he never had to look twice to know you meant it.
You matched his speed within fractions of a knot, mirrored every bank and climbed until it felt less like two aircraft carving through the sky and more like a single thought split between two cockpits. Thousands of pounds of steel and miles of open air separated you, yet somehow you became more aware of him there than you ever had been standing inches apart.
But amidst the camaraderie amongst some of the dagger squad, tensions were growing higher on the flight deck, after yet another failed simulation. Even on Bradley’s six, practically touching his jet while targets were acquired, you were still too slow. It was too risky; there was still too much room for error. The tactical debrief felt suffocating. Maverick’s face was pressed into a hard frown as he looked at each of you, disappointment etched into his features.
“Why are you dead?” He started, shooting daggers into Bradley, “You’re team leader up there, why are you dead? Why is your team dead?”
Phoenix breathed out, frustration rolling off of her shoulders, “Sir, they’re the only ones who made it to target.”
“A minute late. He gave the Enemy aircraft time to shoot him and his wingman down,” Maverick said, making Bradley tense from where he was sitting next to you. “They’re still dead.”
“You don’t know that-“
“You’re not flying fast enough,” Hangman interjected. “You don’t have a second to waste.”
”We made it to the target.”
“And superior enemy planes intercepted you on your way out.” The room went still again.
Bradley shrugged, ”Then it’s a dogfight-“
”Against fifth-generation fighters.” The vein in Maverick’s neck is protruding, his eyes locked on Bradley's.
You couldn’t just sit there and let him take the brunt of this, so you clear your throat, “We’d still have a chance.”
There’s a brief silence; you can feel Bradley’s appreciation as he shifts in his seat. “If we got intercepted, they’d think there’s only one. We have the element of surprise, and with Rooster up there and me-“
”In F-18s?”
Bradley shakes his head, ”It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot-“
”Exactly.”
Maverick's words make the tension in the room climb until it feels impossible to breathe normally. You slowly leaned back into your chair, watching the exchange unfold with a tightness in your chest. You knew there was history there, short clipped words from Bradley and the way Maverick watched him like a hawk. It wasn’t your place to pry, so you didn’t.
“There’s more than one way to fly this mission, sir.”
All eyes turn to Hangman as he scoffs, “You really don’t get it. On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here or a man doesn’t come back.” He takes his time to gaze over at Phoenix, then to you with an arrogant look on his face. “No offense intended.”
You’re ready to bite back before Bob leans forward in his seat, “Yet somehow you always manage.”
”I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative is all.”
Not even Maverick’s interjections get Hangman to stop the tirade he’s dead set on continuing.
“We’re going into combat, son. On a level no living pilot has ever seen. Not even him. It’s no time to be letting the past hold you back-“
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bradley cuts him off, his body shifting to lock eyes with the man.
Hangman looks around the room, waiting. This is what he was waiting for, his grand finale and final show off to drop the bombshell he’d be clinging onto for just the right moment.
“I can’t be the only one who knows that Maverick flew with his old man?” And there it is. You heard Bradley’s stories; his dad died flying. He never said anything special, and you didn’t pry.
“Or that Maverick was flying when your old man-“
Maverick’s attempts at settling the peace fall on deaf ears; it all happens so fast. Before Hangman can even get all of the words out, Rooster is leaping from his seat, heading straight towards the blonde. He grabs his collar, and it’s chaos from there. You follow, slipping in between the two men as hands pull them back from each other. The entire class now stood, separating them as best they could.
“You son of a bitch-“
Everyone was yelling, spit flying as you pressed your palms into Bradley’s chest. His arms were being held back by Bob and Phoenix, as you tried to push him away.
“Bradley,” You tried to redirect his attention, “Bradley, he’s not worth it. I promise he’s not worth it.”
His eyes, full of fury, met yours and couldn’t help but soften just the slightest bit. Unfortunately for you, this moment was not in isolation. It wasn’t a gentle moment in the hanger, or the corner of Hard Deck, or in the locker room. This subtle display of knowing was out in the open for everyone with eyes to see. And Hangman? He was one of the most observant people you’ve ever met, and you hated it about him.
Once things were settled, they let Hangman loose, but with a glance towards Bob and Phoenix, you made sure they didn’t do the same for Bradley. You could feel his heart beating wildly underneath your palms; he wasn’t thinking clearly. The moment he was free, he’d do something to jeopardize this mission and his career.
“You’re dismissed.” Maverick’s voice booms through the crowd, but everyone’s adrenaline is still pumping.
“He doesn’t have what it takes,” Hangman looks to Maverick, “You know I’m right.”
Then his gaze is on you, your body still pressed against Bradley’s as he writhes, wanting nothing more than to land a punch to the side of the cocky man’s face. He goes to leave, but waits until he’s all but nose to nose with Bradley before saying his final remarks.
“Wow, Bradshaw.”
The room immediately shifted, everyone preparing for yet another fight to break out.
“You know, I knew you wanted it bad,” Hangman continued, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “I just didn’t realize you wanted it that bad.”
The implication wasn’t lost on anyone, not as eyes filtered amongst the crowd. Another revelation made. It sounded like everything was underwater when you turned, your body jerking harshly.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You snap, before you feel an arm wrapped around your waist. Somehow Bradley has freed himself from their grips, and used it to pull you back. This action itself seemed to all but confirm his suspicions. When Hangman clicked his tongue.
“Watch it,” Bradley warned, tensions rising all over again.
“I said you’re dismissed,” Maverick yelled once again.
Bradley’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go immediately. His eyes flickered toward Hangman, who was already walking away, then back to you. He gave you the smallest shake of his head; it wasn’t worth it. You swallowed the anger building in your throat, watching Hangman disappear through the doorway.
You stepped out of Bradley’s grip as if it burned you, walking back to your seat as the crowd slowly dispersed. He wanted to follow you, to talk, but he let his friends guide him gently out of the room while you lingered back. When the final pilot walked through the door, Maverick cleared his throat.
“I didn’t know you knew Bradshaw.” He said, his arms leaning against the table.
You scoffed, “Yeah? I didn’t know you did either.”
“Fraternization code of conduct states-“
“Don’t quote the book at me,” you snapped, the words leaving your mouth before you had the chance to temper them. The silence that followed made you immediately regret the tone. You straightened in your chair, rubbing a tired hand over your forehead. “Sir.”
He was quiet, waiting for an explanation.
“We met the day I got back; I didn’t know anything besides his name.” It felt ridiculous admitting this to your superior. “We’re not in a relationship. We’re the same rank, and he’s not my superior nor am I his. And when I advocated for him to be strike lead…” You shook your head. “That had nothing to do with the fact that I know him. I’d have said the same thing if we’d never met outside of work.” Your voice softened, conviction replacing frustration. “He’s a damn good pilot, Maverick. You know this.”
The room was quiet again. You looked at him expectantly.
“Your turn.”
That’s how you ended up here, seated outside on the beach in front of Hard Deck. Your feet in the warm sand, with a jacket thrown over your shoulders. Maverick told you everything, from pulling Goose out of the water to pulling Bradley’s papers. It weighed heavily on you to know Bradley had so much riding on this mission.
You were being lulled by the sound of the waves crashing against the shore before a voice spoke up from behind you.
“Figured I’d find you out here,” Bradley spoke up, slowly creeping up until he was sitting next to you.
You smiled softly at him, “Penny rat me out?”
“Not to brag,” He whispered with a chuckle, “But I think I’m her favorite.”
You were glad he was feeling better, especially after the events earlier. You wanted to hear his laugh, and that scared you. All of it scared you, whether you’d be willing to admit it out loud or not. The mission stakes, the way your chest felt when you looked at Bradley, the unknowing of the future.
“How are you feeling?” You turn to look at him, as he rests his arms on his knees.
“More level-headed,” he admitted, rubbing absentmindedly at the scrape across his knuckles. You don’t ask how he got it. “Still pissed.”
“I figured.”
“I hate that he got to you.”
You turn in confusion, “Hm?”
He sighed, still watching the water.
“I don’t care what he says about me.” He paused, swallowing hard enough for you to notice. “My d-dad…” His voice caught just enough to betray him before he found it again. “That’s different.”
There wasn’t any bravado behind it, no attempt to shrug it off with a joke the way he usually did. It was simply the truth. You thought back to everything Maverick had told you only an hour earlier, about Goose, about Carole, about promises and guilt and thirty years of trying to protect someone while going against their own wishes. Bradley wasn’t just carrying his own expectations into this mission. He was carrying his father’s memory, his mother’s hopes, Maverick’s regret, and now the impossible responsibility of leading a team through something they weren’t expected to survive.
He let out another slow breath before continuing. “But he went after you because he knew it’d get a reaction.” He finally looked over at you, the moonlight catching the exhaustion written across his face. “Out of both of us.”
Your chest tightened, but you shook your head almost immediately. “He didn’t get to me,” you promised. “You’re not a woman in the Navy if you let one comment about fucking your way to the top get into your head. If I threw punches every time someone assumed I was sleeping with somebody important, I would’ve been arrested years ago.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “Besides…”
You let the pause linger just long enough. “Phoenix and I are gonna kill him.”
There it was, that laugh you’ve been aching to hear.
“What?” He got out, his chest aching from how hard he was cackling.
“You heard me.”
You kept your expression perfectly serious. “We’re gonna dump him somewhere off the eastern seaboard. Phoenix’s idea. Bob volunteered to be lookout.”
He laughed- oh, he laughed loud enough to echo over the surf, shoulders shaking as he doubled over slightly. The sound settled somewhere deep in your chest, warming places you hadn’t realized had gone cold, and you caught yourself smiling long before you meant to. It’s infectious, and you’re both laughing off the horrors of today until your sides hurt.
You brush your shoulder with his playfully, but he keeps your shoulders touching before you could pull away.
After you both catch your breath, he leans in a little closer, a more serious look washing over him. “I want you to know, Hangman is wrong.”
“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole.”
“No, I mean…” He looked away again, watching the tide for a second before gathering the courage to continue. “I know we didn’t know each other before that night, but I never once did anything with the intention of you helping me get strike leader.”
You nod quietly, but let him continue.
“I mean…” He laughed awkwardly at himself. “Obviously, having the best recon pilot in the Navy watching my six doesn’t exactly hurt my odds, but…” His voice trailed off as he searched for words that didn’t seem to come naturally. “I’d have been sitting out here talking to you anyway, despite it all.”
“You know, Bradley, much to my dismay, or my attempts to not,” You trailed off, letting your knees knock into each other, “I happen to like you.”
“You sure know how to sweet-talk a man.” He chided, making you fully press your shoulder into his a little more.
“Just,” You sighed, fingernails picking at a thread on your shorts, “Wish we met in different circumstances.”
He nodded, “You gonna give me some spiel about how the Navy comes first?
You let out a quiet laugh. “Why? Is that the same speech you’ve been giving women for years?”
He snorted, shaking his head, before looking back out toward the horizon. “I’d be lying if I said the Navy doesn’t come first. It has to. It always will, at least while I’m wearing the uniform.” He paused, drawing a slow line through the sand with the heel of his boot. “But I think that’s what makes this so frustrating.”
”When I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I wasn’t lying.” You started, “I mean, you know how it is. It’s impossible to date, to do anything in our lives. But, I don’t know. This feels different, and it’s scary.”
“You were the first person I’d slept with in over a year.” He admits, a small, almost embarrassed smile on his lips, “I don’t know if you know this, but there aren’t a lot of women on naval bases.”
A toothy grin pulls at your lips, “You were mine, too.”
There’s a silent lull between the two of you, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the ocean and quietly mourning a life you didn’t have. One where meeting someone didn’t come with a countdown clock attached. One where you could go on dates without wondering if either of you would be shipped away. One where liking someone didn’t immediately come with the terrifying realization that the thing you wanted most was also the thing that could hurt the most.
That wasn’t the life you had. Right now you couldn’t focus on anything else but the mission. A mission that had a timeline, one that was closing in faster than either of you wanted to admit.
“Maybe in another life I would have met you and asked you out on an actual date first,” He whispers. “Maybe in another life we could give it a try, instead of worrying if we’re gonna go down in a fiery blaze.”
“Hey,” You poke his chest, “That’s not funny.”
“Just so you know…” His voice softened. “I like you too.”
You smiled sadly, leaning into him on purpose this time. His arms came around you, pulling you into him as you watched the sun set over the California skyline.
The route that had just become muscle memory, the terrain etched into everyone’s minds through countless simulations and live runs, had been changed. Dogfighting was expected; squads were exhausted. Somewhere between all the infighting, the squad slowly stopped feeling like a group of strangers thrown together by circumstance and started resembling an actual team. Maybe this had something to do with Maverick’s football day, which was a day you spent grateful for sunglasses as you got to ogle a very sweaty, very fit Bradley running underneath the hot sun.
He knew it too, as you had dropped the ball (literally) quite a few times in distraction. This is why when he slung his sweaty bare arm over your shoulder, you couldn’t even deny the accusation.
”Am I distracting you, Shadow?” He asks, sweating all over you while the boys yelled for him to stop flirting and rejoin the game.
“Shut up.”
”You’re not being very subtle, Bradshaw.”
“Never said I was trying to be,” he grinned, and you could envision his sparkly eyes behind those aviators. “At least now you can ogle me in my flight suit without shame.”
“That would imply I had shame in the first place.” You smirk, slinking your fingers together with his. He took your hand in his, making your heart soar until he turned it against you, pulling you against him.
“Bradley, Bradley, put me down!-“
Bradley carried you halfway across the sand before tossing you into the water, and the second you surfaced, laughing and wiping salt from your face, you knew you would remember that moment forever.
It was a good day. A really good day, followed by a very bad one. You sat there with Bradley’s hand wrapped tightly in yours while you waited to hear if Phoenix and Bob were okay. The uncertainty was unbearable, the silence between updates stretching longer than it should have. For someone who had spent years flying into dangerous situations, waiting on the ground had always been the hardest part.
When the news finally came that they were alive, that they were okay, it felt like a fifty-pound weight had been lifted from your chest. You left him and Maverick with a swift kiss to Bradley’s forehead, pretending you didn’t hear the screaming down the hallway.
The days were coming faster, deadlines were pushed, and before all of you knew it was the day of. You boarded the carrier with the rest of the team, the ocean stretching endlessly around you as the ship carried all of you closer to the mission. Your bag was dropped into the barracks beside Phoenix’s room. You were as ready as you were going to be.
Pre-flight checks, mission debriefs, medical evaluations, and more were all a blur as you walked through it on autopilot. No one ever talks about the mental strength it takes to know you have to pull off not one, but two miracles to bring all of your friends home and complete the mission. You looked around at the group of people you had grown to love, even Hangman, and felt a painful stab in your chest as you all said your good nights after dinner. Hangman didn’t even make a single joke about it being the last supper; the tension surrounding everyone was different; this was real.
You couldn’t sleep. You were almost positive nobody else could either.
The carrier had gone quiet hours ago. The steady hum of the ship beneath you should have been comforting, something familiar after years of deployments and long nights spent away from home, but tonight every vibration felt like a reminder.
You had flown dangerous missions before. You had stared down impossible odds and climbed into aircraft knowing there was a chance you wouldn’t climb back out. You had trained for this. Prepared for this. Studied every inch of the terrain until you could probably fly the route with your eyes closed.
But you’ve never flown a dangerous mission with people you considered family. Especially not with someone you may have been in love with.
Eventually, exhaustion started to win. Your thoughts blurred at the edges, your body finally beginning to surrender to the need for sleep when a knock echoed against your door.
You were awake instantly. For a second you didn’t move, hoping maybe you had imagined it. Then it came again, even more frantic than before. You pushed yourself out of bed with a quiet groan, dragging a hand over your face as you crossed the small space of your bunk.
“Seriously?” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your eyes as you reached for the door.
You swung it open harshly, “W-what?”
Then you saw him. Bradley stood there looking anything but tired. His hair was messy, his breathing uneven, and there was a nervous energy radiating off him that you had rarely seen. This was the same man who could fly straight into enemy territory without hesitation, who could stare down Maverick during a debrief and argue his point until everyone else backed down.
But standing outside your room in the middle of the night? He looked terrified.
“Bradley?”
“I can’t.”
The words came out immediately, almost like he had been holding them in the entire walk over.
He took a breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “I can’t sleep.”
You stared at him, your exhaustion slowly fading as you realized just how serious he was.
“I can’t go to sleep,” he repeated, quieter this time. “I can’t go into tomorrow without doing this.”
Before you could even respond, his lips were on yours. You kissed him back before you could think about it, your fingers finding the fabric of his shirt as if grounding yourself through him was the only thing keeping you steady.
Everything else faded away as you pulled him into your room, the door slamming shut. Nothing else mattered, not when you pulled him into your twin-sized bed. His body on top of yours, kissing you as he’d never get the chance to again. He took his time, kissing every inch of your skin he could and prying the sweetest noises out of your mouth.
He made love to you, pushing into you with a cry of your name. Then, he fucked you like it was his last night on earth, because it might have been. You fell apart underneath him over and over until you could barely keep your eyes open anymore.
The morning came almost violently, the alarm blaring in your ears as you snuggled into Bradley’s chest. You would do anything to turn it off, to get just a few more minutes in his arms.
“Hey...” He whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead.
You sighed, burrowing yourself into him.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He coaxed you out of bed. “I gotta be on the other side of the boat in like 20 mins, and I don’t think Nyx would appreciate me in the girls' shower.”
“But I would.” You grumble, helping throw him his clothes as the two of you readied yourselves for the day as much as you could.
He could see the faraway look in your eyes as you watched him leave. “Hey, it’s all gonna be fine.” He said with a kiss, “I’ll see you out there.”
All you could do was nod to keep your emotions in check. You wanted to believe him; you really did. You and Phoenix helped each other get ready, fixing loose strands of hair, adjusting collars, checking straps, making sure every piece of gear was exactly where it needed to be.
There was comfort in the routine, familiarity in the way you two moved around each other. In knowing that even when everything else felt uncertain, there were still things you could control.
Phoenix zipped up your flight suit while you helped fix the collar sitting crooked around her neck. Neither of you said much; there wasn’t much to say.
When you went to meet the squad on the runway, it smelled like sea salt and jet fuel, the early morning fog rising off the side of the boat. Everything was a blur of adrenaline and verbal checks with command until the clock ticked.
Bradley’s met yours on the way to your jets, soft and almost heart-wrenching as you clutch your helmet to your side.
“Don’t do that,” You yell out. Even with the sounds of jet engines and water rushing against the side of the carrier, you know he can hear you.
He raises a brow. “Do what?”
A sense of déjà vu hits your chest, making you smile despite yourself. “You know exactly what.”
He walks a little closer, and up close you can see it on his face. “Y/n-“
”Stop.” You cut him off, making him pause. ”Stop looking at me like you’re never gonna see me again.”
“I’m not-“ Before he has a chance to continue, you keep talking, “Because you will, Bradley. Up there.”
You point to the sky, a small smile on his face despite the nerves wracking his body.
“I got your back, Y/n.” He promises, as the boat horns signal you all to head to your jets.
“I got yours.”
Settling into your cockpit always feels like coming home after a long day; you know the ins and outs of this jet like the back of your hand. The mission objective has been drilled into your head. All the information you’ve sent to higher-ups, all the sleepless nights this is what it has all led to. Now that you were here, you could feel your stomach twisting with anxiety and something else as you watched Bradley’s plane race ahead of yours on the jetway.
When you’ve served as long as you have, or flown as many hours, sometimes it all blurs together. Your body was on autopilot; the only thing running through your mind is the checklist of everything needed for you all to make it out of this alive.
In moments of extreme stress, the body has a way of protecting itself. It narrows your focus until there is nothing else left. No fear. No doubt. No room to think about the fact that the person flying in front of you is someone you had kissed goodbye only hours ago, someone whose hand you had held in the dark while both of you pretended tomorrow wasn’t coming. From the moment your thumb hit the countdown clock, everything became a blur of commands and instinct.
You became one with your jet, every adjustment made without hesitation, every maneuver calculated by muscle memory alone. Bradley’s aircraft stayed directly next to you, close enough that you could track every movement, close enough that you could trust him to be exactly where he needed to be.
For a moment, it almost felt easy. The first miracle happened. The second happened by the scrap of your fucking teeth. And ironically, you think that was the easy part.
Ten Gs slammed into your chest, the pressure crushing down on you until your lungs felt like they were filled with tar. Your body fought against the weight, every muscle straining as you forced yourself to keep breathing, forced yourself to stay conscious, forced yourself to keep flying.
You pulled up hard, coming alongside Bradley just as the belly of his jet skimmed dangerously close to the snow-covered rocks below. The wings of your aircraft passed close enough to each other that for a split second you could feel the danger of it, the razor-thin margin between control and disaster.
“Now get out of there.” Cyclone’s voice crackled through your headset, and suddenly the entire weight of the world was back on your chest.
The moment you came back to, alarms were blaring, smoke was flying, and SAMS were practically everywhere. You were all fighting for your lives. It was your turn to dodge and weave, firing countermeasures, trying your best to outmaneuver the agile missiles.
“Rooster,” You called, hearing nothing but silence as you watched his jet drop slightly, “Don’t go into G-LOC on me.”
Bradley gasps for breath as his vision returns, brought back by the sound of your voice, then the symphony of alarms blaring in his ears. This is the dogfight you all knew would happen; here it was.
“Shit. They’re everywhere.” You’d never been so thankful to hear his voice.
Payback cut in fast, “Get low, get low.”
Another alarm screamed.
Your eyes snapped toward the warning display just as another missile locked on. You reacted before thinking, firing your own countermeasure and watching the missile veer away from its path. The maneuver forced you to break away, your aircraft pulling in the opposite direction as you avoided the impact.
For a few terrifying seconds, you and Bradley weren’t flying side by side anymore.
“Fuck,” You seethe, “Can barely fucking see. Rooster, 3 o’clock.”
Then chills fill your bloodstream when he speaks, “I’m out of flares.”
You turn back, and you can see the missile coming straight towards him. A scream leaves your throat as you drop your throttle, an attempt to help even if it’s fruitless. You can’t watch him die; you won’t, and then suddenly Maverick’s in the direct line of the missile. Maverick releases flares, but he’s too late. And he knows it. You all know it.
The missile hits Maverick’s engine. A fireball shreds his engine; all you can do is fly from above, watching him fall. Your stomach is in knots, and if you had eaten anything this morning, it would have been thrown up all over your cockpit; you’re sure of it.
You can barely hear Phoenix call it, “I repeat, Dagger 1 is hit. He’s going down.”
You feel the tears filling your eyes as you dive below the SAM radar once again; the absence of the alarms had never felt so loud in your life.
“Dagger 1. Status. Has anyone seen him? I didn’t see a chute.” Bradley asks, and the denial in his voice makes you stifle back a sob.
Payback speaks, “He’s gone, Rooster.”
“W-we have to circle back,” Bradley says, and you watch his hesitation as you all get back into formation.
”Dagger, you are not to engage. Repeat, do not engage.” Comms says, but you can see it. In the way he’s flying, you press your jet feet away from his, just enough to see him through his canopy.
“Dagger Two. Return to carrier.” Another order came through your headset, louder this time. “Acknowledge.”
“Rooster, those bandits are closing,” Phoenix’s voice cut through the static, steadier than anyone felt. “We cannot go back.”
“Dagger, Comanche, bandits thirty east.”
“Rooster,” you breathed, your voice cracking despite every effort to keep it level. “He’s gone. We have to go.” You eased your jet closer, slipping into position just long enough to look through the glass. You needed one last chance to pull him back. His helmet turned ever so slightly, and through layers of plexiglass, oxygen masks, and the roar of two engines pushing to their limits, your eyes met, yours pleading.
Please don’t leave me too. Please.
His shoulders barely moved as he took one slow breath.
“I’m sorry.” Is all he says before he circles and falls back hard.
“Bradley, Bradley,” You kept calling his name, your voice growing louder with every desperate attempt to reach him, but the distance only widened.
His aircraft became smaller and smaller, swallowed by mountains, smoke, and cloud until there was nothing left to look at except the empty patch of sky where he’d been flying only seconds before. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself when the explosion bloomed against the horizon. You didn’t flinch.
Enemy aircraft were already closing the gap, warning tones screaming relentlessly through your headset as instinct forced your hands to keep flying while your heart shattered somewhere miles behind you.
“Dagger Two is hit,” someone called over the radio, their voice tight with disbelief. “I repeat, Dagger Two is hit.”
Your hands trembled violently around the throttle, every muscle in your arms threatening to give out as the fireball reflected faintly across the glass of your canopy. You wanted to turn around. Every part of your body fought the training that had been drilled into you for years. You wanted to dive after him, to ignore Cyclone, ignore the mission, ignore the four other pilots depending on you and find whatever was left. Instead, you shoved the throttle forward and forced yourself to stay in formation, tears blurring your vision.
You couldn’t look back.
You knew if you looked back, you wouldn’t stop. And it wouldn’t help the rest of your friends get home.
So you stared ahead while your mind betrayed you, replaying the night before in cruel, perfect clarity. The feel of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. His fingers lazily tracing circles across your back as the carrier rocked gently beneath you. The warmth of his voice in the darkness, his sweat-lined skin pressed against your own.
“When all this is over,” He hummed, your sweaty bodies still panting as you draped yourself across his chest, “I’m gonna take you to get a real burger.”
You jokingly moaned, “God, you sure know how to sweet-talk a lady.”
“M’serious.” He shifted, cupping his face in yours. “You deserve an actual date. Something casual because I know you hate that fancy shit, but something worthy of you. Something that makes you happy.”
“You make me happy. Happier than I thought I could be.” You whispered, your cheeks grinning against his hold as he pulled you back in for another kiss.
Your jet hit the deck harder than it ever had before, the violent impact ripping you out of the memory so abruptly your entire body lurched forward against the restraints. You can’t speak, you can’t think, you can barely breathe. The canopy was barely clear before you were forcing it open, stumbling out onto the deck so quickly you nearly missed the ladder altogether.
Someone was shouting your callsign. Someone else barked an order for you to stay put. You heard none of it. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat and the echo of Bradley’s voice repeating I’m sorry over and over until it drowned out everything else. Your boots slammed against the concrete as you ran, weaving through deck crew and mechanics. Every step hurt, your lungs burned from the G-forces, your legs threatened to give out beneath you, but you kept running until Dagger Spare came into view.
You hauled yourself onto the boarding steps of Jake’s jet. It wasn’t until you grabbed onto the side of his cockpit that you realized your helmet was gone. You didn’t remember taking it off. You didn’t remember throwing it aside. Somewhere between the landing and the sprint across the flight deck, it had simply ceased to exist. None of it mattered.
Jake nearly jumped at the sight of you. His eyes widened beneath the visor as he took in your face, your shaking hands, the tears you hadn’t even realized were falling.
“Shadow-”
“If they call…” Your voice cracked so badly you barely recognized it as your own. You tried again, forcing the words out through a throat that felt like it was closing. “If there’s anything… if anybody hears anything…” You swallowed hard, your chest heaving. “You have to go. You have to save him.”
Someone behind you shouted your name again, louder this time, and you flinched so violently it startled even you.
“They’re not gonna let me fly,” you whispered, panic spilling out faster than you could stop it. “They’re gonna ground me.” You grabbed the edge of his cockpit so tightly your knuckles turned white. “I’m trusting you. If there’s any chance he’s alive… any chance at all…”
He looks at you, a soft mist over his pale blue eyes. “I promise, Y/n.”
You turn with a curt nod, seeing Phoenix following alongside Hondo. The second you reached her, whatever strength had been holding you upright disappeared. You collapsed into her arms without a word, burying your face against her shoulder as sobs finally tore free from your chest. She held onto you just as tightly, her own tears soaking through your flight suit while your hands clung desperately to the fabric at her back.
”I never even got the chance to love him, Nyx.” You sobbed.
“You did, you do.” She whimpered, “He knew, he knew, Y/n.”
The minutes that followed blurred together in a haze of adrenaline wearing off and grief settling in. Someone draped a blanket over your shoulders. Medics came in to poke and prod, protocol, but Bob told them to give you a minute. He slid juice boxes over to where you and Phoenix were curled into each other on the couch; you thanked him for very politely telling them to fuck off.
Then it was just what remained of the Dagger squad wallowing in what should have been a successful mission on paper.
After what felt like an eternity, Mickey finally broke the silence.
“Why did he do that?”
No one answered immediately.
Phoenix sniffled beside you, still absentmindedly combing her fingers through the hair that had fallen loose from your bun sometime during the mission.
“Because it’s Bradley.” She whispered, “He would’ve done the same for any of us.”
You squeezed her hand harder, willing the tears away.
The silence settled over the room again, heavier this time. Bob sat with his head buried in his hands, absently pressing buttons on an old phone that lay on a table for decoration. Reuben had somehow acquired a handheld radio that you were fairly certain belonged to someone much higher ranking; the speaker pressed tightly against his ear while he listened to every transmission coming through.
No one paid him much attention until he suddenly sat forward.
“Overwatch is reporting signs of a jet on course for our position.”
“Fighters?” You sniffle, Phoenix's hands stilling from where they were combing through the hair that had freed itself from your bun.
“In a F-14 Military piece?” He asked, a spark lit underneath all of you at the realization.
You sit up, almost immediately
“What?”
“How the fuck did they get an F-14 in the air?”
“You’re joking.”
Reuben cuts off everyone’s questions, waving his hands to silence you all.
“Rooster’s ESAT is back online. It’s them.” He whispered, before his voice got louder, “It’s fucking them!”
You didn’t realize you were crying again until Phoenix grabbed both sides of your face.
“They’re alive,” she repeated, her own voice cracking around a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Did you hear him? They’re alive.”
The breath you pulled into your lungs was the first real one you’d taken since watching Bradley disappear beneath the smoke. Your knees buckled so suddenly that Bob was beside you before you could hit the floor, steadying you by the elbows while Phoenix held onto your shoulders. Relief crashed through your body so violently it almost hurt. Your chest ached. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Every muscle that had been locked tight since the mission finally gave out all at once, the adrenaline crashing in waves.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. “Oh, my God.”
The room erupted around you.
Mickey let out a disbelieving laugh, throwing both hands over his face before turning in a slow circle as if he had too much adrenaline to contain. He tackled Rueben into a hug that nearly sent the radio skidding across the floor. Bob was jumping up and down, his arms still on both of his girls.
All of you migrated toward the observation windows overlooking the flight deck, the radio turned up as loud as it would go. Every transmission made your stomach knot tighter, your heart in your throat as they sent Dagger Spare up in defense.
You watched nothing but the open ocean through the windows, while your nails dug crescent moons into your palms as your heart threatened to beat itself out of your chest. Phoenix reached for your hand without saying a word, your fingers intertwining so tightly they almost hurt.
“Foul deck, foul deck, raise the barricades. Maverick and Rooster landing.”
You were already running before the call had finished, shoving through the doorway with the rest of the squad close behind. Boots thundered against the metal stairs as all of you raced toward the flight deck, your lungs burning from the sprint, your heartbeat somehow louder than the alarms and engines surrounding you.
The jet was beat up and smoking, crew swarming around to put out the fire as the canopy slowly lifted open. He looked exhausted beyond anything you’d ever seen, his flight suit streaked with soot and grease, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his movements slower than usual as he climbed onto the wing. He was filthy.
Someone shouted something behind you, but it dissolved into meaningless noise as your feet carried you forward before your brain had the chance to think. You shoved through deck crew, through sailors, through officers, your eyes never leaving him for even a second.
There was no chance to think before you were in front of him. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into that impossibly familiar grin, tired and crooked and overflowing with relief the second your eyes met his. It was the same smile that had greeted you that night at Hard Deck, the same one that had become so easy to find across briefing rooms and cockpits and late nights.
”You asshole!” you yelled, shoving both hands against Bradley’s chest hard enough to make him stumble half a step. “You almost got yourself killed!”
The words had barely left your mouth before his hands were on either side of your face, calloused palms warm against your flushed skin as he pulled you into him.
The kiss was anything but gentle.
It was frantic and relieved, weeks of burning tension and memories of last night poured into it. Around you, the crowd erupted into cheers, but it all dissolved into background noise the second his lips found yours. You melted into him despite every intention of staying angry, catching the unmistakable pull of a smile against his mouth as though he already knew exactly how this was going to end.
When you finally drew back, your forehead rested against his for a moment, both of you laughing quietly as you caught your breath.
“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered, trying and failing to sound convincing. “Don’t think that gets you out of it.”
“I know.” His thumbs brushed lightly over your cheeks, his eyes searching yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. “So let me make it up to you.”
”You finally gonna let me fuck you in the flight suit?”
Bradley’s eyes went comically wide, instinctively pulling you a little closer, the roar of the crowd around you swallowing your words before anyone else had a chance to hear them.
“No,” he blurted, before immediately catching himself. “I mean-yes. Eventually. Absolutely, but that’s not what I meant.” He laughed, sweat dripping from his brow. “Let me take you out. On a proper date, give me a chance to ask you to be mine.”
“But you said-“
“Oh, fuck it. Fuck all the reservations we both had.” He smiles, and it’s so wide it looks just like heaven. “I almost died, and all I could think about was how I regret never getting a chance to call you mine.”
His eyes sparkled as you nodded, so quickly you were afraid you’d get whiplash.
“Bradley. I’d love to be yours.”
Before he could say another word, you grabbed the front of his flight suit and kissed him again, the crowd cheering even louder around you as he laughed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist like he had no intention of ever letting go.
Summary: You and Bradley are just friends. That's what you keep telling yourself...and all of your friends at least. Truth is... you're in love with him, but being his friend is better than nothing so you'll just keep pretending... until you can't fight the feelings anymore.
Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female! Reader, appearances by the Dagger squad, especially Jake and Phoenix.
Warnings: Mostly fluff, some mutual pining, idiots in love, minor angst.
Word Count: 4437
NOTES: Written as part of @roosterforme 's 80's Rocktober Fic Challenge! I do not give permission to copy, repost, translate or put into an AI generator. Reblogs are always welcome! My blog is generally 18+ so minors DNI.
The Hard Deck was already crowded by the time you got there. You had a last minute meeting at work that ran late, which made you hit rush hour traffic, and then of course your very sweet but very chatty elderly neighbor had pulled you into a lengthy conversation updating you on all of her million grandchildren. Needless to say, you were in desperate need of a drink now.
“I was wondering where you were.” Penny said, sliding your usual Vodka and Cranberry across the bar towards you with a smile, “A certain aviator hasn’t taken his eye off that door either, and I’d bet is making his way over as we speak.”
“You’re a saint, Penny.” You said, taking a sip, “And for the millionth time, we’re just friends…”
As much as you might wish for more with Bradley, you were certain he’d never see you as anything more than a friend and you weren’t willing to risk your heart, allowing yourself to hope for more. He’d been one of your first friends when you moved to San Diego, and even though he’d been in and out of town over the years, that friendship had remained strong. It meant too much to chance it on one sided feelings. You’d just keep fighting them.
“You keep telling yourself that, Kid.” She teased, “Incoming.”
You turned just in time to see Bradley making his way through the crowd to where you were standing at the bar.
“What took you so long, Firefly?” Bradley pouted when he finally reached the bar. “You left me alone with those idiots without backup.”
“Those ‘idiots’,” You laughed, “Are your best friends and your family, Roo, and you love them to the death. I’m sure you were fine and didn’t even know I was missing.”
“While you might be right that I kinda like them,” He admitted, smiling at you, his whiskey colored eyes lighting up, “You’re very much mistaken in the latter because I ALWAYS know when you’re in the room or not, Sweetheart.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, wanting desperately to read more into them than what he probably meant. The man was an elite fighter pilot, so his life and the lives of those he flew with literally depended on him to be observant.
“Well, I’m here now,” You said, forcing yourself to sound as normal and upbeat as possible.
“Come help me beat Hangman and Coyote at pool.” He said, taking your hand and lending you to where the rest of your friends were. You didn’t miss the ‘I told you so’ look from Penny as you left the bar area. You chose to ignore it however.
“Y/N!” Phoenix said, seeing you approach with Bradley. “Finally! Someone to help even out the testosterone here! Halo and I can only do so much with this lot.”
“Sorry!” You laughed, “I got stuck at work and then Mrs. Higgens felt the need to fill me in on every single one of her grandkids before I could make my getaway!”
“Is she still trying to set you up with her grandson?” Phoenix asked, smirking.
“I think she’s forgotten about that for the time being.” You laughed, “At least I hope so.”
“Come on, Firefly, they’re ready to start a new game of pool.” Bradley said, once again taking your hand and pulling you with him.
You spent the next half hour playing pool and much to your delight, and Bradley’s, you managed to actually beat Jake and Javy.
“You’re a good luck charm!” Bradley declared, “From now on, you’re my new pool partner.”
“I think that was a fluke, Bradley.” You laughed, “Also, I don’t think I sunk a single ball that game.”
“Minor details.” He replied with a wink.
“Alright, a bet’s a bet” Jake said good naturedly, “Next round is on us. Come on, Y/N, let’s go get you a refill. Bradshaw, same beer?”
“Need a bodyguard getting a few drinks, Hangman?” Bradley taunted playfully.
“Nah, I just like her company.” Jake tossed back with a smirk, knowing how to get under his friend’s skin.
You laughed at their exchange, squeezing Bradley’s hand before following Jake towards the bar.
He offered you the open seat while the two of you waited for Penny to be available to take your order.
“You should know that Rooster is currently sending death glares at me.” Jake chuckled, leaning in to be heard over the noise of the bar. “He should know I wouldn’t steal his girl, but I guess love makes a guy act crazy. Maybe this will get him off that perch finally.”
“We’re just friends, Jake.” You replied, trying to keep from frowning, “I’m not ‘his girl’. I don’t know why everyone is insistent on seeing things that aren’t there tonight.”
“Are we seeing things that aren’t there?” He asked, “Or are you too scared to see things that ARE there?”
“I’ve been trying to ask her the same thing for a long time, Jake.” Penny said, coming over. “Let me know if you have better luck getting through. In the meantime, what can I get for you?”
Jake relayed everyone’s drink orders while you sat and pondered what he’d said, glancing over to your group of friends only to see Bradley making his way towards the piano and Phoenix headed to the jukebox. You smiled, knowing what that meant.
The rock song playing in the bar cut out, causing Jake to groan and duck his head, and you to giggle at his reaction.
You turned on the seat to look towards the piano as Bradley sat down and started running his fingers over the keys. You loved when he played, loved seeing him in his element, performing and bringing joy to others. He loved the attention it brought him too, and you knew that after he was done he’d have his pick of any of the tag chasers in the bar that night. THAT part you did NOT love.
“So what’s stopping you, Sweets?” Jake asked, “Why won’t you admit that you’re in love with Bradshaw?”
“Why is this so important to you?” You fired back, avoiding his question. “Why does everyone seem so invested in this?”
Before he could respond, Bradley started playing his signature tune, “Great Balls of Fire”. He knew other songs and would often play them, but this is the one he was most known for and the one the crowd loved the best. You were thankful for his timing and the reprieve from Jake’s line of questioning. You WERE curious though as to why everyone seemed to be interested and invested in something happening between you and Bradley.
You watched as Bradley captivated the crowd, everyone moving to stand around him, singing along and cheering him on. You didn’t miss the women moving into position vying for his attention either. You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the drink Jake had just bought you. You heard him chuckle next to you, your face heating at the realization that he was watching you.
“It’s important because anyone with eyes can see that the two of you are clearly in love but are, for whatever reason, fighting the feelings.” Jake said, leaning down to speak so you could hear him over the crowd now erupting into chants for Bradley to play more.
You took another sip of your drink, putting off having to answer once again. You glanced over at Bradley and were greeted with the sight of him and a very curvy brunette wrapped around him, their lips locked.
“And here I thought that y’all needed to be observant and have good eyesight to be pilots.” You replied, desperately trying to keep your voice light. “Clearly you’re all very wrong in your assessment. Like I said… just friends.”
“Sweets…” Jake said, his arm coming around your shoulder to turn you back towards him and away from Bradley. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”
‘“It’s fine, Jake.” You reassured him, “We’re just friends. He can do whatever he wants…with whoever he wants. I think I’ve reached my quota of fun for the night though. It was a long day and I have a lot I need to get done tomorrow. Thanks for the drink.”
“Y/N.” Jake said softly, “Sweets… he’s a fucking idiot if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”
“You’re very sweet, Jake.” You smiled, “It’s fine. I’m fine. Really. I promise. I’ll see you later, ok?”
“Text me when you get home.” He replied, sighing in defeat.
“Will do.” You promised.
You slipped off the barstool and made your way towards the exit, waving goodbye to others on your way out. You knew you’d be getting a text or phone call from Phoenix before you even left the parking lot.
Thankfully, you made it to the safety of your car without Bradley seeing you. You didn’t know if you could hold yourself together enough to have a conversation with him. You just needed some space to put some walls back up to protect yourself.
As predicted, once you’re in your car, your phone dings with a new text from Phoenix.
PHOENIX: Bradshaw is an idiot! Want me to kick his ass?
YOU: I love you all, but you’re wrong about this. Just friends. I’ll call you tomorrow.
PHOENIX: Love you too. Let’s have a girl’s night if you’re free tomorrow night?
YOU: Sounds perfect. I’m free.
You put your phone on “do not disturb” and selected a playlist to listen to as you drove home. You knew at some point tonight, Bradley would be reaching out to you to see where you’d gone. He was a good friend and did worry about you…and you hadn’t exactly said ‘goodbye’.
You pulled into your apartment complex a short while later, parking in your designated spot. You grabbed your purse and phone and headed up to your apartment on the second floor. Thankfully Mrs. Higgins was not outside wanting to chat this time.
Once inside, you tossed your keys onto the table by the door and kicked off your shoes. You decided to change into comfy clothes and curl up to watch a cheesy RomCom. You grabbed a bottle of water from your fridge and threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave before heading into your living room to turn on your TV and cue up your movie of choice for the night, “Set it Up”. The main male lead reminded you a little of Jake and it made you giggle every time you watched it. Remembering your promise you grabbed your phone on your way back to the kitchen to check your popcorn, turning off the ‘do not disturb’ and seeing you’d missed several messages and had a new voicemail from Bradley as well as a text from Jake asking if you’d made it home yet.
JAKE: You promised to text… do I need to send out a rescue party?
JAKE: The rescue party would be me btw… probably Phoenix too…she’s kinda scary.
JAKE: … SWEETS!
YOU: Sorry! I’m home, I’m safe. I’m popping popcorn and ready to watch a movie. 💗 Have fun!
JAKE: You’re lucky. I was about to send the calvary. 🐓 is lookin’ 💔…
YOU: Didn’t close the deal on the Tag chaser tonight? He’ll recover.
JAKE: …. 😠 You’re too stubborn.
YOU: Go play pool… or darts…. Or something. 💗 YOU!
JAKE: love you too….FYI Rooster just left…(Alone)
You grabbed your now popped popcorn and made your way back to the couch, settling in on your couch with a blanket and hitting play on the movie. You quickly got lost in the movie, letting your mind drift away from the night and not allowing yourself to think anymore about Bradley.
You were about twenty minutes into the movie when your phone started dinging again with notifications again. You sighed, pausing the movie and picking it up.
BRADLEY: Where did you go? You OK?
BRADLEY: Did Seresin say something to upset you?
BRADLEY: Firefly….Sweetheart, why arne’t you answering your phone?????
BRADLEY: Y/N!!!!! Ok, I know you made it home, apparently it wasn't Hangman that pissed you off… text
Me… call me?
BRADLEY: OK, I’m coming over.
That was his most recent message. You groaned. That was the last thing you needed. You usually loved spending time with him, but you weren’t sure you could keep your feelings in check tonight. You were afraid he’d see right through you. Maybe you could pretend you were already in bed and he’d just go home…
Before you had a chance to turn off the TV or enact your plan there was a knock at your door. Too late. Clearly, he’d sent the text when he was already pulling in or parking. Sneaky asshole.
Sighing, you got up, set your popcorn on the coffee table and tried to put on your game face before opening your front door.
“Bradley, what are…” You started to say before he barreled through your door tugging you back with him as he went and kicked your door closed behind him. “Ok, sure….come in.”
“Why did you leave the Hard Deck?” He asked, before rapidly firing more questions at you. “Why didn’t you say goodbye? Are you OK? Did something happen? Why weren’t you answering my texts or calls? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
“Are you done?” You asked, an amused smirk taking over your face. You’d never seen him quite this worked up before. Sadly, it only added to his appeal. The walls you worked to put up when you’d come home were already starting to crumble again.
“Maybe.” He pouted,seeing the smirk on your face. He pulled you over to the couch, plopping down in the spot you’d just vacated in order to answer the door and tugged you down so you were now sitting next to him. Closer than you thought necessary. “Are you planning on answering any of my questions?”
“I just had a really long day and decided to make it an early night.” You explained, not making eye contact. “My phone was in ‘do not disturb’ mode from driving so didn’t see the calls and messages until your last one. I was watching a movie.”
“You’re good at many things, Firefly” Bradley said, reaching over to tip your chin up, forcing you to look at him, “But lying has never been one of them. You have too many tells that give you away…AND I know you too well, Sweetheart.”
“I just… didn’t feel like being there anymore.” You admitted, “So I left. You were busy sucking face with yet another tag chaser, and no offense, but I did NOT feel like interrupting THAT. And I DID say goodbye. I said Goodbye to Jake.”
He sat there for a moment staring at you as if trying to processes everything you had just said. Uncomfortable just sitting there, waiting for him to say something, you decided to get up and take your half empty bowl of popcorn to the kitchen, no longer interested in eating it.
You dumped the uneaten popcorn into the trash and set the bowl in the sink just as Bradley, having come to his senses, followed you into the kitchen.
“Hold up. I was NOT sucking face with anyone let ALONE a tag chaser.” He said, looking upset and offended. “You KNOW me, Firefly… you know that I have actively avoided those types for QUITE some time now. You know who DOESN’T avoid them? JAKE doesn't avoid them, yet you had no problem getting all cozy with him.”
“You mean when he was buying me a drink for losing to us at pool?” You asked, annoyed that he was upset with you. “And trying to convince me….along with everyone else tonight it seemed that there is even a shimmer of a hope that there is anything other than friendship between you and me. Because here’s the thing… all of our…YOUR friends… they seem to think that we’re more than we are. That you have feelings for me beyond friendship. That WE are in love. Well joke’s on them I guess. They only got half of the equation right.”
Needing more space than the kitchen allowed, you paced back out into the living room where you at least stand by your balcony door and feel fresh air wash over your heated body.
“Would you stop running away from me?” Bradley asked, coming into the living room, but this time stopping at the edge of the couch, giving you the space you needed. “You can’t drop bombs on me like that and run away, Y/N.”
Unable to hold the feelings inside anymore and uncaring where the chips may land, you turn and face Bradley.
“They’re right. Every single one of them are right. Penny, Phoenix, Jake… hell even sweet quiet BOB has asked me at one point or another. Except they’re only half right. Like I said, they keep seeing things that just aren’t there, and I can’t let myself have even the slightest bit of hope because that would hurt even worse.” You admitted, “So here’s the real bombshell, Bradley… somewhere along the line, I don’t even know when…maybe all along… you went and made me fall in love with your idiot self. I tried SO damn hard to fight the feelings and to tell myself I was just happy being your friend… that being in your life in SOME way was better than not being in your life at all. But that’s a damn lie too because tonight it hurt like hell watching that slutty tag chaser and you making out, so now I think it’s better if I just not go to the Hard Deck anymore…and maybe …. I think I just need some space. I hear the East Coast is lovely this time of year… I’m sure I can relocate there. It’ll be great.”
You paused to take a breath and because you could feel yourself about to hyperventilate if you didn’t take a breather. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the reality of what you’d just done washing over you.
Before you could open your mouth to speak again or bolt, honestly you weren’t entirely too sure which option you were about to take, Bradley was across the room, yanking you once again, into his arms. This time however, he tipped your head back with his hand at the base of your head, and his lips came crashing down onto your own. You stood stunned for a few seconds until it registered in your brain what was happening and just as Bradley was about to pull away you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back. You felt him smile against your lips, his arms tightening around you, holding you closer to him, as if he was afraid you might bolt…which…fair. You’d imagined and dreamt of kissing him for a very long time, but nothing compared to reality. His mustache tickled against your upper lip but was softer than you imagined it would feel too. Reluctantly you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, and truthfully, you needed to regain your senses a bit. He didn’t let you go far though, resting his head against your own, his own breathing uneven.
“My turn.” He said, his voice husky, clearly the kiss had affected him too. “First thing first. I swear to you, Sweetheart, I didn’t kiss that girl at the Hard Deck tonight. She kissed ME and I made it very clear right after that I was uninterested and Penny had that group thrown out. Secondly, I have wanted to kiss you for so damn long, Y/N because OUR friends are absolutely right…and not just half right, they’re 100% right. I am SO in love with you and Phoenix was right tonight to read me the riot act after you left… because I have been an idiot and almost lost you. I was taking too long, waiting for the right moment…Jake will never let me live THAT one down if I messed this up… Have I.. messed this up?”
It was his turn to look unsure and like he was about to hyperventilate. Your brain was once again trying to catch up and process everything that he had just said to you.
“You love me?” You asked, deciding to latch on to that and leave the rest to process later. The hope you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel before was blossoming in your chest. “No take backs?”
“I love you so damn much, Firefly.” He replied, pulling back enough so he could look into your eyes, “Yes you’re my best friend, but you’ve become so much more than just my friend. You’re my EVERYTHING, Y/N. No take backs.”
“I love you too, Roo.” You replied, beaming, your eyes shining with unshed tears, “You’re my best friend too, but not just my best friend. You’re my person… my forever person. No take backs.”
He smiled before leaning in to gently reclaiming your lips, holding you tight in his embrace, unwilling to spend even a second longer apart from you. You’d already wasted enough time fighting feelings and holding back.
“It’s getting late, Firefly,” Bradley said, “I should head home.”
“Stay?” You asked, not ready to let him leave just yet. “We can watch a movie, I can make some more popcorn.”
“Get comfy, Sweetheart.” He replied, kissing your forehead, “I’ll go make popcorn and grab drinks. You pick a movie.”
You settled onto the couch again, but this time left room for Bradley to get comfy with you when he got back.
After choosing a movie you knew you liked, you grabbed your phone from where you’d abandoned it on the coffee table earlier and saw that you had new texts from both Jake and Phoenix.
You opened Jake’s message first, smiling when you read it.
JAKE: I expect updates, Sweets. Phoenix said she told Rooster off so I’m assuming he was inbound to you. Need the calvary?
JAKE: Seriously… the suspense is killing me here. Should I bring chocolate? Ice cream? Alcohol?
YOU: No need for the calvary. You were right… all of you. 💗. Love you for being so worried. Will update later.
JAKE: ABOUT DAMN TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JAKE: 💗you too. Happy for you, Sweets.
You laughed, before opening Phoenix’s text.
PHOENIX: Girl’s night canceled for tomorrow? 😉
YOU: I’ll get back to you. Lol. Thank You 💗 Love you!
PHOENIX: Love you too. Tell Bradshaw I’ll kick his ass if he messes this up.
YOU: What if I’M the one that messes it up?
PHOENIX: I said what I said. 😂 Happy y’all figured it out. The backup plan wasn’t gonna be pretty.
YOU: What was the backup plan?
PHOENIX: Mandatory squad Karaoke night. Your song choice would have been “Can’t Fight This Feeling” and Bradshaw’s would have been whatever Hangman chose for him.
Chuckling again you set your phone back on the coffee table, content to leave it be and enjoy the rest of the night with Bradley.
“What’s got you laughing, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, setting the bowl of popcorn and drinks down before settling into the couch and pulling you up against him so you were both cuddled up on one end.
“Jake was offering to send the calvary then was cheering us on when I told him he was right the whole time.” You said, throwing the blanket over the both of you so that you would be comfy while watching the move, “He may now need his ego checked, but his heart is in the right place and I DO love that goofball.”
“That better be strictly in the friendly sense or even the annoying brother sense.” Bradley said, glaring playfully down at you.
“I have only ever had eyes for you.” You assured him, tugging him down to kiss him, now that you COULD kiss him, you fully planned to take advantage of this on the regular. “Also, Phoenix texted me to ask if girl’s night was still on tomorrow night and that she’d kick your ass if you screwed this up.”
“I only have eyes for you too, Firefly.” He replied, kissing your nose, making you laugh, “I fully believe that she WOULD kick my ass if I mess this up. She was really scary tonight when she was telling me off.” He pulled you in closer to him, so you were tucked against him again. He had his feet propped up on the coffee table and was leaning back against the back cushion of the couch with one arm wrapped around you. You had your feet tucked under you to the side, leaning into his side, one arm bracing against his side the other resting across his t-shirt clad stomach.
“Do you think Phoenix would be too mad at me if I stole you from her tomorrow night and took you on a date?” Bradley asked
“I think she’d probably be mad if girl’s night WASN’T canceled.” You laughed.
“Can I take you on a real date tomorrow, Sweetheart?” He asked, “I know we’re doing this out of order since we’ve already established we’re in love with each other…and no take backs…but you deserve to be wined, dined, and romanced…”
“I would love to go on a real date with you, Bradley.” You replied, looking up and smiling at him.
“Full disclosure, I don’t know that I’ll have the patience to wait for the second date to ask you to be my girlfriend.” He smirked.
“What if we count this as the first date then?” You suggested, your heart bursting in happiness at his admission.
“In that case, Y/N, my beautiful Firefly,” Bradley said, shifting to tip your face upwards, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Yes!” You replied, reaching up to cup his face in your hand, “I will absolutely be your girlfriend, Roo.”
He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling back.
“I love you.” He whispered, smiling softly at you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back, smiling as you snuggled back into his embrace.
The two of you stayed snuggled on the couch watching the movie. You eventually ended up stretched out together on the couch, your legs tucked between his, your head cradled on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. The blanket was covering both of you, as you slept peacefully and content in one another's arms.
A/N: Phew! This one was FUN! Let me know your thoughts! :)
More BASEBALL Miles!!! Getty Images coming through for us! He's so happy... our Philly boy. The haters on X are annoying. This boy bleeds for his Phillies and Eagles... and has NEVER wavered. LOVE HIM!!!
