Mila ✨ 30s [she/her] | side blog—I follow back from my main @skottskador~| honestly just an outlet for my absolute obsession with tall pilots with mustaches
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw
One for The History Books
[complete] 22 chapters, 100k words
[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.
[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)
[Accompanying Side Stories/One Shots]
Same warnings apply.
Where Else Would I Be?
[Summary] He's been gone for so long.
Any Way The Wind Blows
[Summary] There’s a sudden shift in the mood.
Wish You Were Here | part 1 | part 2
[Summary] Some things you’d rather not face alone.
Of All The Stars in The Sky
[in progress] [tag list open!]
Summary | War looks different from high above in the sky. But when Bradley finds himself on the ground, far behind enemy lines, it becomes a race against the clock to get out. And try not to look back at what he’s leaving behind.
Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)
Warnings | Mature content | 18+ only | [WWII AU] swearing, war, violence, death, explicit smut
One Shots
All The Small Things
Summary // Did you get what you deserve? (3.2k words)
Pairing // Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings //mentions of abuse, heartbreak—hurt/comfort, fluff
Bradley Drabble / glitter gel pens
Pairing // Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings //just fluff
***
John 'Bucky' Egan
Are You Going My Way?
[complete] 5 parts + epilogue, 45k words
Lost and found in four five parts.
Pairing | John 'Bucky' Egan x fem!reader
Warnings | 18+, smut, distressing situations, mentions of hospitals and blood
Where Else Would I Be? | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw
Summary | He's been gone for so long.
Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)
Warnings | swearing, mild angst, mostly fluff
Words | 1.5k
Note | This is just a small, indulgent one-shot idea I've been toying with. Could be read as part of One For The History Books, but also works as a standalone.
Library
***
It's so hot, you can feel a bead of sweat trickle down your spine. Your sundress is sticking to you uncomfortably as you try to look over the crowd gathered on the pier in Norfolk. Friends and family carrying signs and banners have gathered to welcome the sailors of the Gerald R. Ford back from seven months out on sea.
That also marks seven months since you've last seen Bradley Bradshaw.
Standing in the crowd of people waiting for their loved ones, you wonder if you should have made a sign too. You feel a bit awkward standing there empty-handed. To make it even more awkward, Bradley doesn't even know you came here.
Shit. Maybe this wasn't a such great idea.
You fell into a fast and heavy romance with Bradley after meeting him almost 18 months ago. Out of those 18 months, he had spent about 12 on various detachments. He never invited you to welcome him back ashore—as in, he never brought it up as an option—but would rather make his way to your place to spend his free days with you. Preferably in your bed.
Aside from the day, he would never really share any details about his arrival, actually. You have a nagging feeling he might not actually want you here. Bradley guards some aspects of himself and his life very closely, and you have not been able to crack why. You guess it's because you have spent relatively little time together, but you selfishly want more.
So you did a little digging. You promised yourself that if it would be too complicated to pull off, you would leave it. You know which ship he was on, and the day of his return. From there, it was a phone call here, asking a favor there. So it was a bit more than a little digging, and you feel a bit like an imposter standing between all these people. Like an uninvited guest, you hang back in the crowd a bit. You're not even sure how long this whole thing is going to take—aircraft carriers have a lot of people on them.
Seeing the happiness and anticipation of the people around you, cheering and waving flags, you start to feel a little giddy too. The massive aircraft carrier is preparing for mooring, the deck lined with sailors standing to attention in their resplendent Navy whites. Despite how far away it is, and you couldn't possibly tell from where you're standing, you strain to see if Bradley is on deck too, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
You've been standing in the burning sun for over an hour now. The August heat is stifling; the asphalt under your sandals almost burning through your soles. The ship has finally moored and is being prepared for disembarking now. On deck, sailors are shouting and waving to the people on the pier. The anticipation is rising: kids calling for their mom or dad, parents searching the crowd on deck for their son or daughter.
Finally, the stairs are connected and disembarking starts. The first sailors are starting to file out of the middle of the ship. You balance on your tiptoes to see if officers are coming out of the quarter deck. The surrounding crowd starts to move, children slipping past barriers to run up to their parents coming up the pier.
You stand rooted to the ground, unsure what to do now you see the sailors actually coming ashore. You haven't really thought this through. Mostly enlisted pass, only a few officers mixed in. But no Bradley.
After what feels like an eternity and wave after wave of white uniforms filing past you, you suddenly feel a jolt in your stomach. It's the glint from those all too familiar aviator sunglasses that catches your eye, after which the realization dawns on you.
It's him.
It's really him.
You almost didn't recognize him—you've seen him in uniform before, but never to the nines like this without a single wrinkle or crease on the fabric of his summer whites and with a cap on. He looks like you've dreamed him into existence, and it knocks the breath out of you.
Bradley hasn't noticed you. He has a smile on his face as he claps a fellow officer on the back. The moment he turns away, his mouth sets in a hard line.
“Brad- Bradley!” You call out to him over the crowd excitedly, waving. He doesn't hear you over the voices and commotion. He walks faster than the people around him, determined to get off the pier as fast as possible. Separated by rows of people waiting and a barrier, you call out again to no avail.
Ok, this was not how you imagined this was going to go as you watch Bradley leg it past your position with what you can only describe as an annoyed look on his face.
You start moving too, half jogging to keep up with his pace, weaving through the mass of people.
“Bradley!” You call out again. “Over here!”
For a second you think he might have finally heard you as he stops. Your heart is beating in your throat. Did he hear you?
Unfortunately, he turns to another sailor, and they shake hands quickly before he starts moving again, slinging his seabag over his shoulder. It has given you the chance to actually almost catch up with him from your side. The end of the barrier is almost in sight—unfortunately, that's also where the crowd is the thickest.
You start moving past the waiting families to the end of the barrier, hoping to get there before Bradley completely misses you. You are so close now—there's maybe one row of people between you and him.
“Bradley!” He cannot not hear you now. No reaction. For fuck's sake, that man needs his hearing checked.
“Rooster!” You blurt out his call sign in a desperate attempt to get his attention. You've never called him that before, but it feels like it's the right thing to say at this moment.
Bradley stops dead in his tracks. He turns around so suddenly he almost smacks a passing sailor in the head with his seabag. The moment he locks eyes with you, it's like time slows to a crawl.
You smile and wave. His expression is unreadable. You falter. The family that had been standing in front of you suddenly moved away. You feel strangely exposed, and you can see him look at you from head to toe with that same unreadable expression. Is he shocked? Mad maybe?
You suddenly feel embarrassed —you picked this sundress because it's what you wore when you kissed Bradley for the first time, pressed up against his car at sunset. He also once drunkenly confessed that when he dreamt of you, you were always wearing that dress.
You thought he'd appreciate it, but now you're not so sure. Time is going so slowly, but it feels like lead is pouring into the pit of your stomach. Did you overstep? Around you, people are still moving around having their own reunions, although you feel like you're at the center of a black hole in all this happiness—everything sounds muted, everything looks blurred. Only Bradley is in sharp, crisp contrast for you.
He takes off his sunglasses and stuffs them into his pocket. He looks weary.
“Bradley...” You start, uncertain, reaching out to him. Why isn't he saying anything? Instead, he pushes the seabag off his shoulder, and you watch it fall to the ground almost in slow motion.
It hits the ground with a dull crashing sound, shattering the tension.
Time speeds up again as Bradley grabs your outstretched hand into his and effortlessly pulls you to him. Still without uttering a single word, he crashes his lips into yours with such desperation it almost hurts. The moment his skin touches yours, it washes away all insecurities and ignites every ember of passion in you. You've missed him so much, you need him even more. You eagerly wrap your arms around his neck, knocking his cap askew on his head.
His hand is splayed on the small of your back, pressing you into him. The mission ribbons on his chest poke into the exposed skin of your collarbone. You lightly run your nails through the soft short hair on the back of his head, nibbling at his bottom lip. Bradley lets out a deep sigh against your mouth before he captures your lips again in a searing kiss. How could you have ever doubted he hadn't missed you as much as you have missed him? Bradley finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours for a moment.
“I - I thought I was dreaming when I saw you.” He sounds breathless, but his eyes shine with happiness. “I still cannot believe you are here.”
You smile up at him, gently resting your palm on his cheek. Bradley presses a kiss at your pulse point.
“Where else would I be?”
***
note | Yeah, ok, so halfway through writing this I found out that the aircraft leave the carrier a few days before return to shore, but today I'm taking fluff over facts.
Are You Going My Way? | Complete | John "Bucky" Egan
5 parts + epilogue, 45k words
Lost and found in fourfive parts.
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of blood, wounds, operations, hospitals, war
***
Hitchin' a Ride
Part 1
Or two times you told John Egan no, and the one time you said yes.
Words: 7k | Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, hospitals
***
Follow Me Where I Go
Part 2
Or how you stopped worrying and learned to love trouble.
Words: 8.5k | Warnings: smut, 18+
***
As I Walk Through The Valley of The Shadow of Death
Part 3
Or how hell could not keep you away from each other.
Words: 10.5k | Warnings: war, blood, graphic descriptions of war and wounds, angst, 18+
***
I'll See You on The Dark Side of The Moon
Part 4
Or how John Egan really needs to learn how to shut up already.
Words: 9k | Warnings: smut, war, blood, graphic descriptions of war and wounds, angst, 18+
***
Lights Will Guide You Home
Part 5
Or how losing each other was never an option.
Words: 9k | Warnings: war, blood, graphic descriptions of war and wounds, angst, 18+
***
A Lovely View of Heaven, But I'd Rather Be With You
Epilogue
Are You Going My Way? | Complete | John "Bucky" Egan
5 parts + epilogue, 45k words
Lost and found in fourfive parts.
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of blood, wounds, operations, hospitals, war
***
Hitchin' a Ride
Part 1
Or two times you told John Egan no, and the one time you said yes.
Words: 7k | Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, hospitals
***
Follow Me Where I Go
Part 2
Or how you stopped worrying and learned to love trouble.
Words: 8.5k | Warnings: smut, 18+
***
As I Walk Through The Valley of The Shadow of Death
Part 3
Or how hell could not keep you away from each other.
Words: 10.5k | Warnings: war, blood, graphic descriptions of war and wounds, angst, 18+
***
I'll See You on The Dark Side of The Moon
Part 4
Or how John Egan really needs to learn how to shut up already.
Words: 9k | Warnings: smut, war, blood, graphic descriptions of war and wounds, angst, 18+
***
Lights Will Guide You Home
Part 5
Or how losing each other was never an option.
Words: 9k | Warnings: war, blood, graphic descriptions of war and wounds, angst, 18+
***
A Lovely View of Heaven, But I'd Rather Be With You
Epilogue
went to the other side of the world and crawled into a hole:
and i found a beer place
Oh yeah and I learned boundaries, quit the job the moment it got toxic (manager, do not call me outside of office hours because you can’t get your shit together), transferred to a new role (yay collective agreement!), spent some time on other hobbies, Christmas cookies, and now I’m waiting for the post-Christmas sale to hit so I can buy a new laptop and finally get some of those ideas out of my head.
We are all now very invested in a summer journey of a moose from Poland that is probably trying to go to Šumava (south west of CZ) via an ancient moose migration route to join the local herd of 15 (!) mooses. He is crossing the forests, cities, rivers and ponds alone and I really hope he makes it! 🫶
