Writer of fluff, angst & fandom chaos ✍️ 21+ She / her
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- Bradley and Y/n struggle to grasp how much baby stuff they would need for the day that the babies are born eventually.
Bradley was peacefully sleeping throughout the night for the most part until about 2am. At 2am he rolled over in the bed fully asleep, hand instantly searching for his wife who was curled up into his side when they had both gotten into the bed around eight o’clock at night. Except now his hand met with cold sheets and no physical feeling of his wife laying by his side.
His military instincts kicked in when he shot upright in the bed frantically scanning the area around him. A few minutes later his sleepy brown eyes landed on the lamp turned on standing by the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Y/n was curled up, scrolling through her phone with her freehand covering her mouth in horror from the looks of it to him.
“Y/n….”
A loud shriek came out of my mouth hearing my name fill the quiet bedroom air. Bradley was supposed to be asleep. Clutching the armrests I pressed my body against the chair not seeing who had said my name. “Who - who said that!”
“Y/n, easy it’s just me.” Bradley’s sleepily voice met my ears instantly making the tension in my shoulders disappear before I’d even laid my eyes on him sitting up in our bed.
“Bradley…..did I wake up?”
“Yeah, but it’s not important. Why are you awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep thinking about the babies. So I started googling what baby things we might need and - did you know how much stuff you need for one baby, it’s endless. Now double that!” Picking up my phone from the floor I scrolled through so many different items in my shopping cart, fear spread across my face. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Bradley. We’re ready for this.”
Flipping the phone around his eyes read over every detail listed in my shopping cart. two cribs, two bassinets, a double stroller the size of a small car, a twin nursing pillow, a dual‑camera baby monitor, blackout curtains for the nursery, white noise machines because jets fly over the house at all hours, twelve bottles, sixteen onesies, twenty burp cloths, two bouncers, a humidifier, outlet covers, baby gates, a bottle sterilizer, a baby first‑aid kit, tiny cowboy‑boot socks, matching aviator onesies, and a ridiculous amount of diapers.
“You’re just a little overwhelmed. It’s normal or so my mother has told me.”
Knitting my brows at him I muttered. “Why aren’t you?”
“Well we can’t both be freaking out at the same time. We gotta take turns.”
“When’s your turn, Lieutenant Optomestic.”
My husband chuckles, shaking his head at the nickname, lowering himself down on a knee directly in front of me. “How about we do this, I will worry about getting everything for the twins and you my beautiful wife, just focus on taking care of yourself and our little ones. How does that sound?”
“I think we can make that work.”
He nodded his head simply back at me, picking up my phone and offering his freehand for me to take as he stood up from the carpet. Placing my palm in his he tugged me up from the chair and back over to the bed. Climbing underneath the covers I watched him join me scooting up against me as he began scrolling through things on my phone. If he was tied because I’d woke him up he certainly wasn’t showing it at this moment. Laying my head on his bare chest I lazily traced patterns with my index finger.
Bradley hummed under his breath, thumb swiping across the screen. “Okay… why does a baby need a $300 swing? Does it also fly the plane for me?”
“If it did, I’d buy two.”
He tapped a different item. “This says ‘twin nursing pillow.’ It looks like a life raft.”
“It feels like we’re preparing for a natural disaster.”
“We are,” he said seriously. “Two of them.”
I lifted my head just enough to look at him. “Bradley, we need two cribs, two bassinets, two car seats, two bouncers-”
“-and two parents,” he cut in gently. “Which we have.”
“And a thousand diapers a month.”
He stared at the ceiling like he was recalculating his entire life, dragging a hand down his face and throwing his head back on the pillow. “Okay. So we’re buying stock in Pampers.”
“I just…I want to be ready. I want them to have everything.”
Bradley kissed the top of my head watching me laugh sleepily at him. “They will. They’ll have us.”
“And blackout curtains. And white noise machines. And a humidifier. And-”
He put a finger over my lips, shooshing me. “And sleep. Which you need. Because if you keep scrolling, you’re gonna buy a baby treadmill.”
“You don’t know that would happen.”
“I’m literally looking at your shopping cart as we speak.”
“You don’t know that it was me. Maybe….maybe it was your mom.”
He raised a brow. “You gave my mother access to our Amazon account?”
“Yes.”
“Y/n…”
Dropping my shoulders in defeat I huffed crossing my arms over my chest like a child upset over being put in the corner for getting in trouble. “Fine! You’re right I didn’t give her our Amazon.”
“So what about the baby treadmill?”
I swatted his shoulder. “That was one time.”
“You put it in the cart.”
“I panicked!”
He chuckled, pulling me closer into his side once draping his arm over my shoulder. “I know, sweetheart. That’s why I’m taking over.” Nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck I breathed in his familiar scent of jet fuel and the cologne he wore.
Closing my eyes briefly I just listened to the sounds going on outside, recalling the sound of jets flying overhead in the early morning before I’d had my first sip of morning coffee at what Bradley called 0600. Bradley’s freehand slipped underneath one of the oversized tea shirts I was wearing that is actually one of his Navy ones that I stole from one of his dresser drawers. His palm spread flat on the center of my belly, warm and gentle over where two little humans were growing inside of me.
“You really think we can do this?”
“Honey, if my mom can handle teenage Bradley all by herself things should be a lot easier with the two of us together.”
A soft giggle past my lips. “Little Bradley could not pull off a mullet I’m afraid.”
“Yeah….in my defense I was trying to impress a girl.”
Raising one hand up into his messy bedhead my fingers tousled the brown strands around making it an adorable mess even more than it previously was. “Well it sucks to be her. You couldn’t pull off a mullet but you definitely can a mustache and a Hawaiian shirt.”
“I gotta say little Y/n was cute with pigtails though.”
My mouth dropped down in shock and heat spread across my cheeks at the memory. I knew which picture he was referring to, the one I specifically didn’t like in my mom’s photo album. She had a whole section of every school picture day photo in there and she had shown this one in particular to my husband the very first night he came to meet my parents. Covering my face with my hands I wanted to crawl under the bed and never come back out.
“I dreaded her ever showing you that picture. Honestly I wouldn’t be caught having my hair in pigtails now.”
“Don’t worry I won’t ask you to do that.”
“You better not or I will have your mom show your baby pictures to the Dagger Squad and feel no remorse about it.” Bradley gasped in horror covering his heart with his hand, like I’d personally offended him with such a threat which was short lived since we both started busting out in laughter.
“Changing that subject lets see what you are thinking about baby names, Mrs. Bradshaw?”
“Are you asking my permission that if one is a boy we call it “Bradley Jr or BJ”?”
My husband busted out laughing with a huge smile spreading across his face. He rested one hand on his forehead for a minute, wiping away happy tears that had slipped down his cheeks. “My mom would absolutely love to call her grandchild BJ.”
“So is that a yes or no hmm?”
“Let’s put it under a maybe box. But really leaning more towards yes.”
“You’re ridiculous, Rooster.”
“You still loved me enough to marry me. So what name are you thinking of?”
Shaking my head I dragged my hands down my face finding it funny how much of a child he was sometimes. Shifting my body so I was laying on my back pondering on which name kept crossing my mind repeatedly since we found out about the babies. “I’d have to say Reese, Bri or Caroline?”
“How about Briar.” He added on instantly lighting up as an idea pops into his head. “And I was actually thinking if we had a boy ... .what about Nick?”
My breath hitched in the back of my throat hearing that special name come out of his mouth. That name meant something in this family because it was his father’s. Moving to sit up on my knees I dropped my hands into my lap staring at my husband trying to search for the right words till the question came out of my mouth. “You’d be okay naming our baby after your dad. I mean - are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”
“I won’t lie and say I don’t miss my dad. I was really little when I didn't have many memories of him. But then when I think about it, keeping his name alive with his legacy would be really important to me.”
Flinging my arms around his neck he started letting some tears slip down his face as I wrapped my arms around his form. He buried his face in the crook of my neck with one of my hands threading into his hair in a way that would ground him to me. “He would be so proud of you, Bradley.”
“Yeah, I - I know.” He sniffed, wiping underneath his eyes, drawing back, resting his forehead against mine. “I just - I wanna know. Would you be open to that?”
Cupping his face in my hands I sniffed back some tears of my own smiling back at the love of my life. “Bradley, when we met I wasn’t even thinking of having kids at all. I was a virgin you know, and now you’ve changed everything. You made me fall in love with the idea of having my own children. We can name these kids whatever you want.”
“You’re the best wife ever, Little Singer.”
“That’s Mrs. Bradshaw to you.” Giving him a quick kiss we laid back down together, cuddling up with my phone in his hands switching to start looking for different baby clothes. “You’re the best husband too, honey.”
Tag list - @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @frost-queen @elenavampire21 @khouse712 @smoke-and-sparks @lover-of-books-and-tea @jssmississippihipie @rootedinrevisions @avengersfan25 @football1921 @nightqueens-world
Heyy, saw ur accepting requests for Mav. Can u maybe write one where Mav and reader are old friends n reader finds out about the Darkstar project and flips out bc WDYM U ALMOST DIED????
You’re my Mach 10
Busting in the control room everyone including someone dressed in different military badges turned their heads in my direction as I stomped past them never taking my eyes off the many tv screens showing what my best friend was up to this time. The admiral began to speak but I held up a hand ignoring him as I went and snatched Hondo by the front of his shirt. “Hondo, you better tell me right now why my best friend is pushing to Mach 10.”
“Y/n, he said that he wanted to prove that it could be done before Admiral Kane arrived.” Hondo gulped, eyeing the man dressed up in a full military uniform with an angry expression on his face. “Speaking of Admiral Kane I’d like you to meet Y/n Bradshaw.”
“I’m not here for conversation, soldier. Tell him to ground that plane NOW!”
Gripping Honda’s shirt in my fingers I glared at him grabbing the speaker part of his headset where they could talk between each other. “Pete Mitchell, you better get your ass down here this instant!”
“Y/n, we need to meet Mach ten.”
The admiral standing behind me with his gruff voice focusing his attention on the aviator over the headset rather than me. “You’re early and I demand to know why.”
“Uh Maverick, Admiral Kane is asking-“
The admiral cut Hondo off abruptly. “Ordering.”
“Ordering that we bring her down.” As if on cue Maverick started responding in a broken response like the coms weren’t working correctly and Hondo picking up on it. “This is where we’ve had some trouble, sir. Did anyone offer you a coffee?”
Shifting my gaze back to the multiple screens I bit my lip feeling the sick uneasy feeling building in the pit of my stomach. I got sick to the point I threw up every time he put his butt in any form of a fighter plane for the Navy. Pete wasn’t the only person who lost his wingman Nick “Goose” Bradshaw. He was my brother first before he ever joined the Navy and became an Aviator.
Nick and I were super close growing up, we were never apart from each other until he took the oath to serve the United States of America. We had similar friends, the other always went to the siblings sporting events, hell I was the only one beside our mom who was allowed to call him Nickolas. So to say his death hurt is an understatement….it nearly shattered me for the rest of my life.
My saving grace was Pete “Maverick” Mitchell….except he had no idea how much he meant to me.
You see I have had a massive crush on the aviator long before we lost my brother. And yet I feel that it has gotten stronger with how much I care ahh him now that my brother is gone. The problem was I was too nervous to admit that to him and he seemed too oblivious to pick up on the secret I was keeping from him.
“You’ve got gumption kid I’ll give you that.”
The admiral’s voice drew me from the trance I must have been in because I gasped seeing that Maverick hadn’t just reached what they were calling Mach 10 but he had surpassed it by going to Mach 10.1. Immediately afterwards the tv screens began going in and out and it was difficult to see Maverick’s image on them. Then abruptly they all went completely dark and the communication between us and him was cut off.
Whipping my head around to Hondo my eyes went bug with heavy tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. “Hondo, what just happened?”
“Uh - we lost coms with him, Y/n.”
Hitting my hands on the desk I got in his face, feeling tears already sliding down my face. “Get them back now. Get Pete back on that coma line right now!”
“Ma’am, I’d suggest you follow my orders and leave this room before I have you escorted off the base for insubordination.” Admiral Kane declared to me clearly not caring how I felt about the situation.
“Admiral, I -“
He blankly stared back at me, before I dropped my shoulders leaving the room in a huff. “I don’t recall asking you a question, Ms. Bradshaw.”
“You didn’t, sir…..I’ll go now.”
I couldn’t keep track of how long it has been since the control room incident. There’s been no news for the last twenty four hours and I am getting close to losing my mind over it. Laying on top of my bed inside the small apartment I have on base my mind keeps racing with every worst case scenario of what happened to him. I’m not stupid, I know this job, this oath that we’ve taken to defend the country comes with us losing people around us. But Maverick isn’t just anyone to me.
Covering my face with my hands I groaned heavily feeling tears welling up in the corner of my eyes wishing to hear anything. And by some miracle my prayer was answered when my phone started ringing where I picked it up from the nightstand, pressing it to my ear. “Hello, who is this?”
“Am I speaking with Ms. Y/n Bradshaw?”
“Yes, this is her. What is this about?”
“We see you are listed as the emergency contact for Captain Pete Mitchell. We have some information on him.”
Closing my eyes a shuttered inhale went inside of my body as I prepared myself for what was next the second the question left my mouth. “How - how - is he alive?”
“We can’t disclose anything more than that we require you to come to the hospital. He was in critical condition and is now coming out of surgery.”
My mouth parted slightly while I did the best I could to process what was just explained to me over the phone. I wasn’t sure how to feel about what was happening right now. And the thought of Pete dying was too much to bear. Shifting to the edge of the mattress I began putting my feet on the floor, scrambling to switch clothes and not drop the phone at the same time.
“I am on my way right now. Thanks for the update.”
The drive to the hospital was the fastest I have ever driven on the ground in my life compared to how fast I fly through the sky. Skidding into a parking spot flinging the door open and closed I rushed inside the doors and past the front desk once the nurse told me what room he was in. Pushing open the door labeled with a 208 I halted in my tracks covering my mouth with my hands unexpectedly once finding the man I love laying in a bed.
Maverick laid across a mattress wearing a hospital gown, covered in bruises from head to toe it seemed and his hair was sticking up in all different directions. Carefully walking up to the edge of his bed I hesitated in calling out his name yet deep down I needed to know if he was alive or dead. “Mav…..Maverick…..Pete.” Lowering one hand downward my hand gently shook him by his shoulder, waiting for some type of response.
“Y…..Y/n?” Pete blinked up at me, slow and disoriented, but the second he recognized my face, something in his expression eased.
“Hey…”
I let out a breath that was half a sob, half a laugh. “Don’t you hey me.”
“You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here. You scared the hell out of me, Pete.”
He didn’t joke this time but rather showed me a softened expression when he knew no one was looking. “I didn’t mean to,”
“You almost died! Do you understand that? You almost left me. Why - Why would you do that?”
He exhaled, slowly, trying to defend his actions but that wouldn’t work on me. “Because I had to prove it could be done. Because Kane was going to shut us down. Because… that’s what I do.”
“That’s not good enough. Not when it almost cost your life!”
His eyes lifted back to mine, steady now. “It wasn’t supposed to go that way.”
Sitting down on the edge of the bed tears began falling down my face with my voice cracking in an attempt to get the words out. “I thought I lost you. And I can’t - Pete, I can’t go through that again.”
“Y/n, I’m a pilot. It’s - I’m still here.”
“I already lost my brother. I can’t lose you too.”
Closing my eyes I let relief come over me as his hand raised up brushing hair out of my face gently. He sighed heavily before he spoke. “You know, right before everything went black… I thought about you. I thought that I should’ve told you how much you mean to me. How long you’ve meant it.”
“Mav…”
He squeezed my hand that was now holding his, grounding himself in me. “You’re the thing I push for. The thing that keeps me steady. The thing that makes me want to come back down.”
“Pete, you don’t have to -“
“You’re my Mach 10. You’re the one thing I can’t outrun. And I don’t want to.”
A huge grin crossed my face when he leaned forward connecting our lips together in a long kiss. I’d definitely imagined what it would feel like yet my dreams didn’t compare to the real thing. Moving my fingers into the fabric of his hospital gown deepened the kiss until he broke it.
[Caption: gifs from The Vampire Diaries. On the left, in greyscale, there are gifs of Caroline talking about things she seemingly can’t have because of her vampirism. First, when she had her humanity off, she taunted Elena saying “maybe I’ll pretend I can actually give birth to babies, and have a normal family, and I can get a job…”; then, she reads a letter she left to herself in a time capsule: “Dear future Caroline, I predict you will live in the perfect house, and marry the perfect boy.” On the right side, in colour, this is contrasted by Caroline getting to do all those things; having the twins and them interacting with Stefan, getting a job at a news network, living in the Salvatore house, and marrying Stefan.]
Summary: Even though the Navy requires Jake leave for work before you wake up, he still finds ways to say good morning, even when he's thousands of feet in the air. That is, until he's late for work one morning.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: poor Navy/aviation knowledge, swearing, mentions of guilt
a/n: I'm currently working on part two of 'No Persona to Hide Behind', but this concept came to me and I couldn't stop writing it. Hope you love it ❤️
Masterlist
--
5:15 AM never fails to come too quick, and the obnoxious beep of Jake's alarm clock always manages to cut through the peace of your sleep. You stir in bed, pushing your face deeper into your pillow trying to escape the noise. As you do, you listen to the sounds of Jake's morning routine in a half-sleeping daze. It always brings you comfort hearing the water run in the bathroom, him putting on his uniform, and the zipping of his boots.
Around 6:15, the mattress gets weighed down again. The smell of Jake's cologne and mint toothpaste surrounds you as he leans over to you.
"I'm heading to the base, darlin," he sweetly whispers against you, his voice with a hint of sleep still in it. He places a soft kiss to your forehead and wipes a stray strand of hair from your face.
You mumble into the blankets. "Mmm, please stay." You reach out your hand to catch the bottom of his jacket.
Jake lets out a small chuckle and kisses your lips quickly. "I wish. Maverick has a 7am brief today, no missing that. Love you."
"Love you," you mumble back, falling back to sleep as the bedroom door shuts behind Jake. As your eyes completely close, you can hear the faint sound of his truck leaving the driveway.
Your alarm finally goes of at 7:30. The sun is glimpsing at you through the curtains, and the bed is completely cold on Jake's side.
Having to go downstairs into the empty house always felt lonely, but the emptiness never lasted long. Because no matter the morning or how fast he has to run out of the house, Jake always leaves a piece of him behind.
On Monday, a bright yellow piece of paper is stuck to the top of the coffee maker. Written in his scratchy handwriting there's a message: You took a lot of the bed last night. But I still love you. Enjoy your coffee. - J
On Wednesday, it felt like you were sprinting through the house to try to make it to work on time. When you grabbed your keys from the entryway bowl, a neon pink note was resting on your keychain: Your laptop is still in the office. You look beautiful. See you at 1800. - J
By Friday, the door of your fridge was full of his handwriting, written on sticky notes in all different colors. Your lates one was right on the handle of the fridge door when you went to grab your breakfast: We made it through another week. Two more drills and I'm all yours. Counting down the minutes. - J
A childlike smile fell onto your face as you moved the sticky note to the door of the fridge with the others. The house may physically be empty when you wake up, but the sticky notes are a constant reminder that Jake never really leaves you hanging, even when Hangman is 30,000 feet in the air.
-
After a weekend spent only in each other's presence, Monday quickly snapped Jake back into reality. The bliss of sleeping in with his wife was immediately ruined when his alarm didn't go off. By the time his eyes snapped open, the clock read 5:40 AM.
Panic immediately sets into his bones. The following twenty minutes was a blur. Jake raced around the bedroom, putting his uniform on blindly.
By 6:00, he practically throws himself on top of you as he quickly kisses your forehead. "Darlin, I'm late. Heading out, gotta fly." He didn't even wait for your sleepy mumbles before he was walking out of your house.
It wasn't until later that morning, when he was fully strapped into his jet and ready for takeoff that his brain finally processed the chaos of the morning.
His eyes shot up. The sticky note. Your sticky note.
Through the frantic rush of the morning as he dashed out the door, he completely spaced out the pad of sticky notes on the counter. The realization punches him in the gut. He tries to reach for his phone to text you, but once his fingers reach the empty pocket, he remembers his phone is locked away in the locker. He is cut off from you completely.
Maverick's voice comes through comms, quickly snapping Jake out of his panic. "Hangman, do you copy?"
"Copy, Maverick. Aligned and ready," Jake replies as he's trying to clear the thought from his brain.
For the rest of the morning drill, that forgotten note takes up a large chunk of his mind. He feels the guilt of imagining you waking up and walking downstairs to nothing.
Luckily, he's Hangman. His muscle memory kicks in for him during the training. The second his wheels touch the ground, however, he is out of the cockpit and running to the locker room.
The whole squad is watching him as he scrambles out of the jet and down the hall, his Hangman persona disappearing in a swift motion.
"Woah, where the hell is he going?" Javy chuckles as he sees Jake head toward the hangar.
Jake flies through the locker room doors, throwing his flight helmet onto the bench as his locker is ripped open. He grabs his phone and unlocks it, heading to your messages.
But a notification catches his eye before he can even begin typing. A text from you that was sent an hour ago.
Good morning J! I just got to work and can't wait to see you tonight. Fly safe, I love you! 🤍
His chest feels heavy with affection and guilt. His fingers are flying a mile a minute as he replies to you.
I realized when I was in the cockpit that I didn't write you a note this morning. I'm so sorry darlin. I woke up late and I hate knowing that you woke up to nothing downstairs for you. I love you so much, counting down the minutes until I come home to you.
The message was through a phone screen, but the genuineness of his apology is so clear. Reading it from your office, you can hear his worried tone through it. It makes your heart swell.
By the time 4:15 rolls around, the front door flies open - much different than it's normal, gentle click.
Jake soars into the house looking frantically for you as you're sitting quietly in the living room. Before you can even stand up from the couch, he is dropping onto his knees on the floor in front of you. His hands engulf yours, and he looks up at you with pleading eyes.
You laugh softly, "Jake, breathe. Welcome home."
"Sweetheart I am so sorry," he pleads, his voice distressed. He squeezes your hand. "I haven't stopped thinking about the note since the canopy closed. You woke up and the house was empty with not even one sticky note waiting for you-"
"Jake, love, it really isnt' that big of a deal," you quietly interrupted, placing a soothing kiss to his forehead. "I am not upset, I promise you. You were running late this morning, I completely understand."
"But it is a big deal," Jake insists; he refuses to let himself off of the hook. He rests his elbows on your knees, moving closer to you. "It's our thing. I leave you a note every morning. I swear I'm making this up to you. I'll write you fifty notes tomorrow. I'll write you two hundred notes. They'll be everywhere. The fridge, the mirror, your shoes, your car, every single piece of silverware we own. You won't be able to see a piece of this house that doesn't have paper on it."
You burst out laughing as you cup his face with your hands. "That sounds like a really bad paper cut hazard, Commander."
"It's a risk worth taking," Jake mumbles, a relieved smile finally breaking through him as he relaxes into your touch. He leans up to press his lips to yours that completely resets his mind after his stressful day. "Can you promise me that you know I didn't forget about you?"
"I always know," you whisper against his lips, trying to pull his body up to the couch next to you. "Now, please at least change out of your flight suit before you start writing the first hundred."
-
You woke up on Tuesday morning, the house already quiet. As you pulled the blankets off of you, a smile already tugged at your lips as you remembered Jake's pleading promises from the night before. You told yourself he probably left three or four extra notes down on the counter to make up for his mistake.
You stood up and froze.
Stuck to the center of your house slipper is a bright blue piece of paper. You reach down to pull it off and notice that familiar handwriting:
Good morning darlin. Slide these on and follow the trail. - J
You slip the shoes on and open the bedroom door. The staircase to the main floor is a colorful sea of small, square papers. Jake didn't write two hundred, but he definitely cleared fifty. And he stole your office supply of sticky notes to complete the task.
You head down the stairs, taking each one off of the wall as you walked. He didn't only put them on the walls; he put them on everything.
On the bathroom mirror, dead center: WOW you look pretty today, even fresh out of bed. Especially fresh out of bed.
The thermostat in the hallway? Don't touch this. It's just like your husband: perfect.
You rolled your eyes as a chuckle escaped your lips. You headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, the countertops looked like a stationary bomb went off. There's notes on the coffee maker, the mug he left out for you, the sink faucet, and right on the cabinet door.
The one on the coffee maker comes off first: 100% caffeine, 0% chance I forgot about you today. Love you.
When you looked in the fridge for your favorite coffee creamer, there's a neon pink note on the egg carton. These eggs are fragile, but my ego is not. I'm still the best pilot in the Navy. Enjoy your coffee.
You grab your coffee in one hand, a large stack of colorful sticky notes gathered in your other hand. Heading towards the door to grab your keys, you spot one more bright square by the handle of the door. The green sticky note was written in bold black Sharpie, as if he was shouting this message to you.
I told you I was going to do it. Never doubt me. Have a perfect day, Mrs. Seresin. You can count on me to be at home at 1800 to receive my reward as best husband on base. I love you - Jake
You slowly peel the note off of the door, adding it to the top of the rest of your stack. You put them against your chest, your heart flooded with emotion and admiration for your husband. The house might by empty in the morning, but Jake's true, chaotic, arrogant, and sweet love absorbs every corner of your home.
You gather your breakfast, a massive stack of neon papers already accumulating in your left hand, and head toward the front door to grab your keys for work. Slapped squarely over the deadbolt of the front door is a massive, extra-large green sticky note. It’s written in bold, aggressive black sharpie, practically shouting off the wood.
Told you I was going to do this. Never doubt the executioner. Have a perfect day at work, Mrs. Seresin. I'll be home at 18:00 to collect my reward for being the most attentive husband on base. - Jake.
You peel the final note off the door, holding the thick stack of neon paper against your chest, your heart completely full. The house might be empty when you wake up, but Jake’s chaotic, arrogant, and deeply tender love fills every single corner of your world.
-
By Thursday, the normal routine resets: 5:15 alarm, the rustling of Jake getting up in the morning, and the forehead kiss from him before he slips out of the room.
When 6:45 AM rolls around, Jake is walking into the locker room on base. Bradley and Javy are sitting on the benches, finishing getting dressed and groaning about the 7 o'clock briefing.
"Morning, boys," Jake confidently says, his Hangman persona fully locked in. "Ready to chase me today"
"Quiet, Seresin," Bradley groans, rubbing his eyes. "Some of us still need to have coffee."
Jake smirks to himself, reaching into his locker to get his flight helmet. As he lifts the helmet up, he sees something small and bright inside the ear cup.
It's a green neon sticky note.
The smirk on his face turns into a soft smile. He pulls the piece of paper out of the helmet and immediately recognizes your handwriting.
Javy looks over to Jake, raising his eyebrow. "What you got there, Hangman? Secret admirer?"
"Mind your business, Coyote," Jake laughs, his back turning to give himself from privacy. He looks down at the green piece of paper: Waking up in an empty bed sucks, but your fast flying makes up for it. Kick some pilot butt today, Hangman. See you at 1800. - Your Wife
Jake keeps looking at the note for a long moment, warmth flooding through his chest. He delicately peels the note from his helmet, opens his wallet, and puts it safely inside.
"Seresin! Briefing in two minutes, let's go!" Maverick calls out.
"I'm right behind you, Mav," Jake says smoothly. He tucks his helmet under his arm and is ready to dominate the sky. But his heart is on the ground, anchored by a single sticky note.
was wondering why you aren't writing Rhaegar anymore?
So the reason that I have decided to not write Rhaegar anymore is because I just haven’t felt inspired to write for him. Really I think my inspiration for him was just for a day or two. And so now I am not going to force myself to write for a character I don’t feel anything for.
Overall right now my inspiration to write any character on my masterlist / longer books has just not been there. So I have just been trying to read other people’s works rather than forcing myself to write.
Hey there, since you love Owen like I do I thought I’d share a old story I wrote a few years ago ( my writing has gotten better now 😂 ) if you want to check it out it’s an Owen x reader story called Hybrid Trainer
I provided a link to it if you click the name 😂
I am considering doing another Owen story but can’t decide between oc or x reader. Any thoughts hit me in dm or my ask box 🤭
OMG THATS CRAZY... I remember reading this like in... 2022... at least the first few parts, will definitely revisit this!!
(everyone go check out a crazy good Owen x reader)
I think you should DEFINITELY write another Owen fanfic, unfortunately nobody posts about Owen Grady in the big 2026 anymore, which is why its SO important that we do!
After some thought I am no longer writing for Rhaegar everyone. I have only written two requests for him and I have quite a few more just sitting in my inbox right untouched. It might be the tough writers block I am having right now but I am still going to end requests for him.
I apologize to the people who have sent in requests for him and I hope you understand 😥
Note - all other current fandom / characters on my masterlist are open for requests
Hey y'all, if you or someone you know has been tagged in a post like this, don't click on any links, don't message the OP, or provide any personal info like your password, phone number, email address, ect. Report the post as spam, and report and block the account.
I just got one of these I immediately blocked them…..should have reported but I didn’t think that until afterwards 😥 if anyone else gets this report and block
Stop ur such an amazing author. Like I can eat ur fics up they're like a five course meal 😌😌 lwk think u shud read fics to overcome writers block, it's very efficient. Try gettinginto other fandoms too tht also works. Anyways i get jealous reading ur top gun fics bc they're js so good why didn't I think of that like AHHHHHHHHHHHHh. Love ya <3
Oh my gosh this is so sweet to hear. This is actually one of the best compliments I have gotten since I have been writing on here so I really appreciate it ❤️❤️❤️
Speaking of my Top Gun fics I am debating on writing more for my Bradley Bradshaw x Little Singer AU. Would you or anyone be interested in that? If yes, let me know 😁
