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junkdrawerfics · 1 year

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Promise Kept (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

This is an abo fic so if you don’t like don’t read! (no spice)

Summary: Reader is an omega aviator who has fought tooth and nail to be where she is. She never gave alphas the time of day, until Bradley Bradshaw walked into her life. Even then, she can’t bring herself to let him all the way in, until one night, after a fight with Hangman leaves her with too many doubts to ignore.

Warnings: none really, it gets a little saucy, but doesn’t go past some intense-ish making out. Some internalized prejudice.

word count: 6036 (ended up being kind of a slow burn)

Society had come a long way with how omegas were treated. No longer considered second class citizens, or fragile glass creatures in need of protection, they were treated just like everyone else practically everywhere. Practically.

As always, nothing is perfect. Some people still hold to their prejudice, much like how some women still face sexism, regardless of their secondary gender. For some reason, you just weren’t expecting to come face to face with it in the Navy. Perhaps you should have.

Being an omega, and a woman, meant you had to fight tooth and nail for every sliver of perception you could. In the academy, that meant studying every night and giving up all aspects of a social life to be at the top of the class. It meant long nights spent at the gym after studying, beating your body into a muscular shape, which was no simple task. No one ever told you how difficult it would be to keep your physique as an omega, something about your body being adapted to be softer, rounder, more protective. The odds never phased you, though. You wouldn’t have joined the Navy if they did.

And it worked. You bested everyone academically, and stood your ground in training against the alphas and betas. You weren’t the first omega to pass through the academy, but they all acted like you were, which only stoked the fire in you more, a fire that had been in you since you were young. Always push back. Don’t step down for anyone. Prove that you deserve to be there. Prove them wrong.

When you joined the Navy as an aviator, you started on your suppressants and never let up on your training. Even at that point, when everyone said you’d made it, when your parents urged you to take it slow, go out, meet people (‘an alpha’ was barely hidden in their tone), you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You were going to prove to the world if you had to that omegas deserved to be treated with just as much respect as alphas, and you’d fight anyone if they thought otherwise.

Hence how you end up almost killing a certain frenemy of yours. Several times.

“Hangman, if you don’t shut your trap, I’m going to shave your head in your sleep,” you snap, teeth grinding as you glare up at the taller aviator.

“Ooooh, the omega has claws.” He gives you that annoying smirk, the one that makes you want to smack him over the head with a pool stick.

That would break it though. You don’t want to put Penny out like that, so you stick to a scathing growl. Placing the stick down on the table, you notice your other friends take wary steps back as you come to stand toe to toe with the prick of a blond. Good. You wouldn’t want anyone else getting into this right now.

“Do you want to go, Bagman? See just how sharp these claws are?”

He scoffs, “We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we, Widow?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyes narrow.

“Look, darlin’-” The word makes your brow twitch. “-it’s just a simple fact that alphas are stronger than omegas. I’m just saying you’re no exception.”

“I could put you on the ground in less than a minute,” you growl, anger digging into your chest like a hot iron.

“Oh please, if you weren’t on suppressants, we’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

A low murmur spreads through your group, even amongst the standers-by who overhear your argument. Your jaw clicks with how hard you clench your teeth together, a dull pain thrumming up to your temple. Slowly, you tilt your chin up and square your shoulders, every aspect of your posture screaming of a dominance you shouldn’t possess, a dominance you’ve taken by force. Hangman’s gaze turns wary at the challenge.

“Oh, he’s done it now,” Phoenix murmurs, eyes dancing with barely contained amusement.

“I wouldn’t want you even if you were the last alpha on the planet,” you murmur, voice like a storm brewing out over the ocean, “You should just admit that you can’t beat me in a fight instead of resorting to being such a douchebag. It would look better.”

“You know what I think? I think it’d look better if yo-”

“Watch your mouth, Hangman.”

You bite down on a flare of frustration when a solid body steps between the two of you. Your eyes travel up, trailing over muscular arms, across broad shoulders, up to a mop of dark curls crowned by a pair of aviators and you stiffen.

Rooster.

You reluctantly take a step back, watching the two alphas glare at each other. The look in Rooster’s eyes sends your pulse racing. They burn with something fiercely protective, something utterly dark that curls low in your abdomen. Usually you’d butt back in, because you don’t need rescuing. You don’t need an alpha to protect you, nor do you want one.

But it’s always been different with Rooster, as much as you don’t want to admit it. When he comes to your defense, a deep neglected feeling crawls up your throat and practically chokes you. You’ve tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore how nice he smells, all leather and mahogany and clean linen. How his touch feels like warmth and ice and electricity all at once. Or how he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars when you win in combat, smile dripping with pride and something you don’t dare put a finger on. You can’t. You can’t, because if you do, you’re terrified that feeling will drown you, and you’ll turn into exactly the thing you don’t want to be.

So you settle for stepping back to watch, desperately clinging to the anger still simmering in your veins. Desperate to ignore the prominent veins tracing the alpha’s taut arms and the attractive edge of his clenched jaw.

He’s just an alpha. An alpha like any other. Even if he treats you like an equal. Even if he’s never been anything except respectful to you.

“What, Bradshaw? As if you don’t think the same thing?” A taunting smile returns to Hangman’s lips. “I’m just playing the part, but we all see the way you look at our favorite omega.”

Those words make you stiffen. Eyes wide, you glance up at Rooster, whose ears are tinging pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, a warning in his tone.

“Oh really?” The blond presses, far too entertained by the reactions he’s garnering. His eyes slide to you again, and for once, you feel unsettled by the mischief you find there. “Have you noticed, (L/n)? Because I sure don’t feel like I’m imagining it.”

You don’t know how to respond. It’s like the words have tangled on your lips, like they’re anchored there, too heavy to spit out, too terrifying to face. And you hate just how weak that makes you feel.

“Just drop it, Hangman,” Rooster growls. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Fine.” Jake raises his hands, that idiotic smirk still curling his lips as he takes a mock step back. “You really need to lighten up, Bradshaw. Wouldn’t want someone getting the wrong idea, since you don’t want her apparently.”

That statement settles in your gut like a rock, especially when Bradley just clenches his jaw again and doesn’t say a word.

Leave it to Hangman to stir the pot, or to set the heat until things boil over in this case. You want to throttle him, maybe deprive him of the ability to have kids, but you are far too aware of all the eyes on you, both your friends and the various strangers populating the bar. It makes you want to disappear, or yell, but neither are really an option right now.

Running away means you’re a coward, a weak little omega who can’t stand up to some bullying.

Yelling would just make you look crazy.

So once again you’re forced to settle. You drop into the seat next to Phoenix, watching Rooster take a deep, slow breath before he storms off to the bar, for a drink you presume. It seems most evenings with Hangman require some form of alcohol to make it through. Too bad you were a designated tonight, or you’d be joining him.

“You okay?” Bob, sweet beta he is, gives you the softest concerned look from across the table.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Nights like these make me deeply question why I’m friends with that knot-head though.”

“Who else would you argue with if he weren’t around?” Phoenix laughs into her drink.

You don’t say anything in reply. Part of you wants to say that you don’t love arguing. It frustrates you more than anything, how the blond knows how to get such strong reactions from you. And it’s even worse that he always seems to do it around Rooster, which leads to moments like this, where you can’t control the ache in your heart that clashes with the fire in your veins, leaving you to burn in your own uncertainty.

The rest of the night goes on peacefully, which is likely due to the uptake of alcohol. Despite telling yourself it’s a bad idea, you can’t help but keep an eye on Rooster. The man appears to sulk a few tables over, not paying much attention to the conversation Fanboy and Pay Back keep trying to draw him into. Worry burrows deep into your chest when he switches from nursing a beer to a glass of whiskey, dark eyes lost in thought.

You wish you knew what he was thinking. You wish you could walk right over there and ask him. Pretend the evening never happened. But that uncertainty clings to you like a tick, small and irritating and impossible to tear out.

He’s an alpha.

But he’s also your best friend.

Everythings has always been different with Rooster. At first, you’d hated him. He was just another opponent, another obstacle you had to overcome to be the best. You used to bicker, much like Hangman, but he never once brought up your secondary gender. He respected you, despite all your back and forth. He treated you like an equal, something you had only experienced with Phoenix.

Then, one day, you crashed. It was an accident, an error with the plane. Apparently something was missed in the inspection before you went up. You ended up in the hospital for a few days, and when you woke up, there he was. Sitting at your bedside, somehow asleep while looking horribly uncomfortable in one of those stiff hospital chairs.

Things shifted after that.

That day you saw a new side to the aviator. He was softer, charismatic smirk replaced with the most genuine smile when he realized you were awake. It gave you pause back then. Made you doubt everything you thought about alphas. From then on, you spent most of your time together, and your arguments turned to playful banter, which turned into late night talks, which turned into phone calls when your deployment took you to different places.

It all went so fast, leaving you grasping at straws when you first noticed how your heart skips a beat when he gives you one of those soft, lopsided smiles.

But he’s an alpha.

And you still can’t face the idea of being a typical, lovestruck omega, not after an entire lifetime and trying to be anything but. What would everyone think of you? What if you fell behind? The doubt is crippling, to say the least.

So you stay at your table, nursing your own cup of lemonade, distractedly adding to a conversation with Phoenix and Bob while watching the alpha down drink after drink. Eventually he starts smiling again, laughing just a little too loud like he usually does when he’s drank too much.

“Wanna play a round, Widow?” You glance over at Hangman, who holds out a pool stick to you. A peace offering perhaps. Some of the tension leaks from your shoulders.

“No thanks, Bagman, not really in the mood to play,” you hum, though you give him the faintest smile to make sure he knows the two of you are good. He nods, too white smile on his lips as he tosses the stick to Coyote instead.

When you look back to Rooster, you freeze. He’s looking at you, for the first time since the stand-off. His eyes, such a peculiar shade of hazel and brown, are glazed over, but they burn with an intensity that makes your breath get lost somewhere in your lungs. Smile gone, it’s replaced with a look you are far too familiar with. It’s the look he gets whenever he’s trying to figure something out, how to attack, how to win, how to succeed at a certain maneuver. But it’s solely focused on you.

You meet his eyes, one brow raising in challenge. Not a single sign of submission. A soft glint sparks in his gaze, something dark and fond, as a smile pulls at the corner of his lips. You don’t back down, even as his eyes trail down, lingering for a heated second on your lips, before trailing over the exposed length of your neck and collarbone. Subconsciously, your shoulders draw up, and your eyes narrow into a glare. Rooster leans back in his seat, eyes sparkling as they trail back to meet yours. Too dark. Too warm. Too hungry.

You break away, heart suddenly in your throat. And you’re shaking. You tuck your fingers between your thighs, desperate to hide the slight tremor. You can still feel his gaze, feel it warming your skin to the point of setting a fire. For the first time in what feels like forever, a blush spreads up your neck and across your cheeks. A low chuckle sounds from a few tables down.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you grumble under your breath.

“Who?” Phoenix asks, though the smirk on her face gives away that she knows.

“Rooster,” You tell her anyway.

“Oh please, you love him. He could wreck your car and you’d still ruffle his hair like you do and forgive him,” she laughs, and Bob nods along. “He loves that by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The two of you are very oblivious,” Bob adds, which is like a punch in the gut coming from the beta.

“What do you mean?” You look between your two friends, frustration building when they merely share a look and laugh.

“Nothing, Widow. Just might be some time for a heart to heart with ‘Roo’.” She puts the nickname in air quotes, because it’s what you notoriously call him. No one else can get away with it, lest Bradshaw bite their heads off. He lets you though, and they’ve all seen the fond smile it brings to his lips. It’s so painfully obvious, to everyone except you and him apparently.

You’re about to bite back, maybe something about her and Hangman, but the sound of a sharp shuffle draws your attention away. Rooster is jostling out of his seat, slurring something about another round, but he can barely keep himself upright. With a sigh, you slip from your booth, heading towards the idiot.

“Case in point!”

You send Phoenix a glare over your shoulder, but it turns to something fond when she gives you a cheesy thumbs up, eyebrow wiggling. They’re all idiots, you decide.

You make it to Rooster’s side just in time, as he practically trips over his own feet.

“Woah, buddy,” you laugh, catching him around the middle. You can feel the heat of his body, even through his Hawaiian shirt. Rooster has always run so warm. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

A cacophony of protests sound from the rest of the table, but Bradley just looks down at you with a doe-eyed smile. You stomp down the fondness curling in your stomach, and instead draw his arm over your shoulder and curl an arm tight around his waist.

“I’m taking this dufus home. Try not to die while I’m gone!” You call, receiving a mixture of laughter and catcalls (Hangman of course), which you ignore.

Now, moving a 6’2” alpha is no easy task. Not when it’s Rooster, who can barely keep a foot under him when he’s tipsy and is only coordinated when he plays the piano. Usually, on nights like this, the main struggle is getting him to stop laughing long enough to get his feet to move, but tonight, he’s suspiciously quiet as you lead him out to your car. You can still feel his eyes on you, but this time you’re too scared to meet them. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking now. You don’t want to think about the fact that you’re alone with him now. An alpha. A drunk alpha at that. Even if he is your best friend.

The cold, night air helps to ease the warmth dancing under your skin. It seems to help Rooster sober up just a little too, as he fumbles his way into your passenger seat. You reach across him, intent on buckling the idiot up, but freeze when his fingers curl around your wrist.

Slowly, so slowly, you lean back to look at him, ready to bite, knock him out if you need to, but Bradley just smiles. It’s one of those soft, genuine ones, brimming in his eyes, boyishly lopsided. And you melt. You buckle him up and take a moment to ruffle a hand through his soft curls, drawing a content hum from the dirty blond. He just keeps looking at you, all smiley, eyes half-lidded.

“What am I gonna do with you, Roo?” You sigh.

“Kiss me?”

A shocked laugh parts your lips at the earnest suggestion. This finally gets Rooster to frown, though it looks more like a pout, which makes you giggle more. Leave it to Bradley to always be unexpected.

“Maybe when you’re sober, Roo,” you tease, and this seems to bring back his grin.

“‘m holdin’ you to that.”

You snort, knowing he probably won’t even remember this conversation in the morning, though a small part of you hopes he will. A small part you chastise as you close his door and move to the driver’s seat.

The drive is surprisingly quiet, until the sound of Rooster’s soft snores fill the car. A fond smile captures your lips. Looks like you had the perfect timing. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer at the bar. When you reach his apartment, you take a moment to just look at Rooster. His brow, usually knotted together for some reason or another, is smooth in his sleep, making him look younger, softer. His hair is a little mussed from when you ruffled it, a few strands falling over his forehead, tempting you to brush them back.

He really is handsome, you think. You don’t often let yourself entertain it, but Bradley really is something. Tall, muscular, with a defined jaw and a confidence to match. He’s an ideal alpha. Yet, that’s not what you find yourself drawn to. No, it’s those moments in the air when he calls on you to make the decision. It’s all the times he invites you over for a drink and just listens. It’s everything else about him that drives you crazy. He’s the perfect alpha.

You wonder if he’d ever pick you, as his omega.

And then, immediately, you shove that thought down and jump out of the car. Bradley jumps awake when you slam the door, eyes blearily tracking you as you make it to him and unbuckle him.

“Come on, big man, time to get you to bed,” you huff as you drag him up.

“You’re so strong,” Rooster mumbles, the look on his face just short of adoration.

Your face flushes, “Strong enough to drag you around. Better keep that in mind the next time you try to pick a fight with me.”

A moment of silence.

And then - “’m not Bagman.”

You stop, casting the alpha a curious glance. You hadn’t been insinuating that, but suddenly he looks too serious, brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line.

“I know you’re not, Roo,” you murmur gently.

“I don’t like how he talks to you.” He frowns, now facing you completely.

“Yah? How so?” You slowly redirect him to the door.

“Don’t like how ‘e treats you like some ‘mega. You’re an omega, but he, he-” He practically growls, and your shoulders tense. “He’s no manners. I should knock some ‘nto him.”

You loosen when you realize the root of his anger. He doesn’t like that Hangman blatantly disrespects you as an omega. You were expecting it to be some protective alpha thing, since the two of you are so close, and it is to some degree you’re sure, but it lifts a little of your unease knowing that this is partially his chivalry thing. He once told you it’s how his mother raised him, since she was an omega and his father had passed away. His only other real influence was Maverick, who happens to be a beta.

“Well, I bet if we messed his face up a bit, he wouldn’t be so rude,” you hum, laughing softly when Bradley nods aggressively.

You prop the alpha against the wall and fish his keys from his pocket, shuffling nervously when he goes quiet, heavy gaze falling down on you again. If only he weren’t a good head taller than you, then maybe it would be easier to face that look.

Instead, you swiftly step into his small apartment, busying yourself with grabbing a cup of water for him and a couple aspirin for when he wakes up the next morning. He watches from the doorway, only moving in when you tell him to go change.

And boy do you regret that when you slip into his room. You were intending to just check on him one last time, make sure he didn’t slip and die whilst changing, but you instead come face to face with a notably shirtless Rooster.

“Ah, I was just um, I just-” You gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Rooster shirtless, but this is different. This isn’t on the beach, when he’s covered in sweat and dancing to a victory play in dog fight football. No, this is in the dim light of his room, the soft glow from the kitchen just illuminating the prominent muscles of his abdomen, the smooth planes of his chest, the line of his collarbone, every inch of him tan and glowing and perfect.

When you finally do bring yourself to look away, to look at his face, you’re met with the most wolfish grin.

“Like what you see, Widow?”

Heat flushes through your chest, your breath catching in your throat. A small voice in you screams danger danger danger, but you can’t move as Rooster inches closer. His hands hover over your sides, close enough that you can feel his warmth, but not touching.

And part of you begs him to. Wants him to touch you, grab you, hold you, do whatever he wants. It collides viciously with the relief that swarms you when his hands settle gently on your arms. But then he’s leaning over you, face coming so so close to yours and you can’t breathe again. Your thoughts are swimming, lost to the whirlwind of the homey scent that envelops you.

“I wanna tell you something,” Rooster mumbles, warm breath brushing your face, the faint scent of whiskey not as gross as it should be.

“What is it, Bradley?” Your voice doesn’t quiver. It doesn’t.

He looks at you, and for a moment, it’s like he’s completely sober. His eyes are clear and bright, swimming with more emotion than you thought someone could hold. It feels like your heart is pushing through your chest.

“He’s wrong.”

“Who’s wrong?”

He hesitates only a second before the words spill from his lips, “Hangman. He said I don’t want you. He’s wrong.”

The air fizzles between the two of you as you process what he’s saying.

Bradley wants you. Is that what he means? He wants you? In what way? You’re suddenly overflowing with questions, each one dancing on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to ask them. Not now. Not when he’s like this and you can’t even seem to get your head straight. You don’t even know what you want, for Mavericks sake. (haha funny)

“I think you should get some sleep, Roo,” you all but whisper, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“It’s okay-” He draws you close just to press the softest kiss to your temple. It’s so innocent and sweet, you almost melt. “-know you don’t like alphas. Jus’ had to tell ya.”

And your heart breaks. His voice softens with something horribly sad and resigned, like he’s thought about this before, like he’s told it to himself over and over again. Because of you. Because of your stubborn prejudice. You’re no better than all the people you’ve been judging.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you croak, not meeting his eyes as you pull the man deeper into his bedroom.

He flops onto the mattress unceremoniously, immediately grabbing one of your hands when you turn to leave.

“Stay?”

You bite your lip, torn between running, escaping all this mess in your heart that he’s not even aware of, or doing exactly what he asks, because that’s all you want.

All you’ve ever wanted.

“Yah,” you rasp and settle down on the edge of his bed, “I’ll stay Roo, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

“An’ you’ll give me that kiss?” He peaks up at you with one eye, already fighting sleep.

You smile and gently brush your free hand through his curls, “Guess you’ll just have to get some sleep and see.”

Rooster eagerly closes his eyes and buries into his blankets, though that big, dopey grin stays on his lips even as he quickly drifts off. You linger, fingers still petting his hair, until you’re sure he’s asleep. Then, slowly, to not wake him up, you untangle your hand from his and make your way to the door.

Right before you close it, you hear a low, muffled, “Night, (Y/n).”

“Good night, Bradley,” you murmur back and silently shut the door.

You slump against the wood, a long whoosh of air escaping your lips.

How on earth are you supposed to process all of that?

It feels like everything is clicking together and falling apart, all at once.

Rooster wants you. You can still feel the warmth where his lips pressed against your skin. And you can’t really deny how you feel about him, not after all of that. Not only had you brought him home alone, drunk, and stumbled in on him shirtless, but nothing had happened. He never pressed, never made a move besides some flirting which is just so notoriously Rooster. Even drunk, he was more respectful than most people had ever been to you.

You love him.

There’s no other way to describe the deep, aching fondness in your chest.

You trust him, which seems even more important. Bradley would never do anything you wouldn’t want, he would never push himself on you, he would never force you to be something you’re not. Yet, you’ve made him feel like it’s impossible, because of your stupid vendetta against alphas.

The decision is made right then and there.

In the morning, when he’s more sober, you’ll show him just how much you like him and want him as an alpha. There will be no more doubt, no more holding back, no more suppressing every instinct that claws at your chest at the sight of him.

In the morning, he’ll definitely be getting that kiss.

---

When Rooster wakes up, it’s still dark out. A habit from all the early mornings for the job. He groans softly, head pounding like a herd of elephants are traipsing around inside it. He looks around blearily in the dark, barely catching the silhouette of a glass of water on his bed stand and the pills sitting next to it. He downs the painkillers quickly, finding the tiniest bit of relief from the cool water on his throat.

That’s the last time he drinks like that, he thinks, much like every morning he wakes up hungover.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Wincing, the alpha looks up with narrowed eyes, catching a familiar sight. You’re standing at the end of his bed - how did he miss you coming in? - dressed in a pair of shorts and one of his old shirts. You look significantly better off than how he feels.

“Morning,” he rasps and clears his throat, heat climbing up his neck, “What happened last night?”

“Not much. You proposed to me in a fit of undying love and cried when I said no,” you hum, holding the straightest face you can.

Absolute horror flashes across Rooster’s face, making his eyes go wide as saucers. The blush on his neck climbs all the way across his cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears. It only lasts for a few seconds before you burst into a fit of giggles, and understanding dawns on him. His features settle into something unimpressed.

“Not funny,” he growls, but the blush still lingering on his face makes it not too threatening.

“You’re just so fun to tease, Roo,” you coo, thoroughly entertained by the glare he sends you. You give his leg a pat, letting your touch linger - Rooster notices, his brow perking inquisitively at you - before you tuck your hands between your legs and your tone turns more serious, “Last night was fine. You just drank too much so I brought you home.”

“I didn’t do anything?”

“Weeeell…”

“(Y/n)?” His voice holds something uncertain in it, which is out of character for the aviator, and makes you soften.

You hold his gaze for a serious moment, biting your lip as you think through the words you’ve rehearsed over and over in your head. It’s not helping, not with the nerves swirling in your chest. You barely slept last night thinking about this moment.

“You were mad about what Hangman said at the bar last night,” you murmur slowly, to which he nods. That he remembers. “You wanted to make sure I knew he was wrong. You um, you said you want me?”

Bradley freezes. He looks down at his hands, fingers flexing and unflexing as he traces back the events of the night. It’s all blurry, but he does remember being close to you. Kissing you. He winces. That is not how he wanted that to go. But all the best pilots know that once you make a move, there’s no taking it back, so the best route is to just keep going…he hopes.

“And if that’s true?” He asks, bringing those dark eyes up to meet yours. They burn with the same intensity they did last night, making you bite your lips.

“Well, if that’s true…” You take a breath, gathering every ounce of courage left in your body to swing a leg over his, putting you right in his lap. Rooster inhales sharply, instinctively gripping your hips to steady you. His eyes are wide, brewing with something wicked as they stay locked on your face. “I’d have to tell you that I want you too…alpha.”

A low growl rumbles through the aviator’s chest and his fingers dig into your skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, you’re sure. And you love it. The omega in your crumbles when he draws you closer, close enough that your noses practically touch.

“You weren’t drinking last night too, were you darlin?” His voice is deliciously rough, brushing over all your senses, leaving you tingling.

“Nope,” you hum, draping your arms over his shoulders to play with the curls at his neck, “I’m all here, Bradley. This is my decision.”

“And you’re choosing me?”

Instead of saying anything, you take another deep breath to still the nerves boiling away under your skin, and slowly tilt your chin, exposing the expanse of your neck to the alpha. A sign of submission.

Bradley stills, chest practically heaving as he keeps himself from moving. Both of your hearts are pounding, the moment so quiet, so tense, as you look at him from under your lashes. Your eyes swim with uncertainty and a vulnerability he has never seen, and that breaks him from his spell.

“God, I love you.” He buries his face in your neck, breathing in every bit of your scent that he can. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin, a low giggle escaping you when he presses his lips to your neck, all gentle and slow and sure, but the brush of his mustache against your skin tickles. “I’ve loved you since that crash, probably since before it. Never thought I had a chance with you, baby girl.”

“Sorry for making you think that, Roo,” you gasp when he nips at your ear.

“Don’t be.” He presses kisses to your jaw, closer and closer to your lips. You wish he’d just hurry up. “This feels more rewarding.”

“What? Knowing you got the stubborn, little omega?” You jest, practically dizzy from all the contact, and from his scent which seems to swallow you. God, you love his scent.

“No.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Knowing you’re choosing me. It’s all you, darlin’. I never stood a chance against you.”

“I don’t think I did either,” you sigh, “Not with that stupid mustache and that face.”

“You like my face?” His eyes twinkle with boyish mirth.

“Shut up and kiss me, lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You can feel the curve of a smirk on his lips when they finally meet yours. And it’s perfect. His lips press gently to yours as his hands trace up your sides to cup your face. Every touch is searing, leaving behind trails of heat that make you whimper softly into the kiss. Bradley growls, the sound deep, low in his chest. He tilts your head, catches your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from you. He deepens the kiss, and you’re helpless against it, against him. He kisses you until you’re breathless, until you’re clinging to him and his hands are curled firmly around your waist, drawing you closer, closer, closer. Even when you break away, chest heaving for air, he doesn’t stop, just presses kisses along your neck, tugs the collar of your his shirt aside to drop kisses along your collarbone and shoulder. A shaky sigh escapes your lips, and you can’t help but curl your fingers tightly through his curls. The alpha groans, concentrating on the spot right below your ear that makes you tremble. You whine when he bites the spot, and a low rumble vibrates his chest as he traces his tongue over the stinging skin before he presses one final kiss over it.

Your whole body is like a live wire. You can’t catch your breath, can’t stop the shaking of your hands or the wild pace of your heart. But you feel alive. You feel alive for the first time in forever.

“I love you,” Bradley murmurs again as he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he too tries to catch his breath.

“I love you, too,” you laugh breathlessly, “I can’t believe I’ve made you wait so long.”

“Worth it.” He hits you with that stupid, lopsided grin you love so much.

“Definitely….”

“...alpha.”

Bradley opens his eyes, glaring at you playfully, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’.”

You peck his lips one last time, teasingly soft, before you jump up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! I kept my promise about the kiss, didn’t I?”

A low laugh sounds from the bedroom, and you smile.

Yah, this was the right decision.

Note: This was purely self-indulgent when I wrote it, but I liked it, so I figured I’d post it somewhere. Hope someone else likes it!

#top gun #top gun maverick #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #reader #reader insert #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #abo #abo dynamics #alpha Bradly bradshaw #alpha rooster #omega reader #don't judge pls

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clownfiles · 8 months

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thinking of writing about milf omega mav lusting after young alpha bradley bc he wants his babies mhmmm 🤭🤭🤭

#roosmav #maverick x rooster #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #omegaverse #omega maverick #alpha rooster

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unrealwasteland · 1 year

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Roosmav fic recs: Omegaverse favorites!

Omegaverse is a very popular trope in Roosmav fandom - currently about 15% of Roosmav works on AO3 are tagged with it. Since this is a list of my favorites, all fics here are about alpha!Rooster and omega!Mav, with fairly typical omegaverse dynamics. There may be mentions of breeding and/or mpreg, but no on-page pregnancy is included.

The majority of these fics have explicit vaginal sex, and I'm not tagging every fic for it, so I recommend looking at the full tags and author's note before deciding what to read. If you're not comfortable with some terminology, I suggest ctrl+F searching for it before reading. Some of these fics come with warnings, so I'm putting the non-explicit fic first, and filth under the cut. :D

No prize for second place by Lacerta 6k, M, no archive warnings apply omega chase, getting together

Maverick dashes behind a tree, not as much for the measly cover it provides as for the support. He leans against the bark, fingers digging into the rough ridges. It only marginally helps to ground him, but fighting against odds this uneven, even as much is a blessing. He knows the game; he knows how to play it. What he didn’t take into account, though, was Bradley. * The old tradition in the US military has alphas chasing after omegas in heat. Maverick, still unmated, is a recurring champion of the Chase, but there's a first time for everything, isn't there?

I really love the worldbuilding and Mav's characterization in this fic. Very well written.

Needs Must by EmilyNorth 8k, E, no archive warnings apply bonding, not actually unrequited love

“I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now,” Admiral Simpson said. To his credit, he sounded mostly sincere. But then, he’d always been clear about admiring Iceman. It was Maverick who he couldn’t stand. “Take some time, whatever you need.” “I appreciate that, sir,” Maverick said, “but there’s no time. The mission—” “No, I’ll be taking over the training from here.” Maverick froze. “…Sir?” “We both know you can’t stay on active duty, captain. An omega is only allowed to serve if they’re bonded.”

This is absolutely beautiful, and I really enjoyed how the omegaverse worldbuilding is weaved into the canon divergent setting.

Cream Top by anonymous 7k, E, creator chose not to use archive warnings (underage) medical examination, male lactation, pseudo-incest, sex toys

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen cases like this before.” The medical officer turned and made another note on her laptop. Several notes. “I’m assuming, Captain, that there’s a young alpha at home? It looks like you have a dependent on your file.” Maverick closed his eyes. “Yes.” “How old are they?” Mav didn’t want to answer. “Captain?” she prompted. “Bradley’s—Seventeen.”

Dare I say this one is a fandom classic already? The first chapter is a work of art, but the whole fic is amazing.

the whole purpose of want and desire by punk_rock_yuppie 3k, E, no archive warnings apply established relationship, edging, trans!maverick

This early-morning fuck shouldn’t be happening. Bradley knows that. But he can’t help himself. He woke up hard and was still aching when Maverick slipped back into their room for a goodbye kiss. If Maverick really didn’t want to, he’d say so. The only caveat is— “I’m serious Bradley, you can’t knot me.” Maverick looks over his shoulder, expression unimpressed.

This is super hot. It's not a tag on this, but this hit me right in the "just the tip" kink.

show me the way home by MilesbyMicah 8k, E, creator chose not to use archive warnings (underage) male lactation, breeding kink

Maverick knows that Bradley's too old for this. Too old to come seeking the warmth of Maverick's tits in the middle of the night. But he's never been able to say no to his boy.

This is very hot, and I'm a big fan of how messed up and codependent their relationship is. I recommend reading both this and the follow up!

let the love light guide me home by MilesbyMicah 17k, E, creator chose not to use archive warnings male lactation, voyeurism, semi-public sex, reconciliation sex

Maverick and Bradley haven’t spoken in years. Circumstances beyond their control have forced them into proximity, and it’s a race to see what will spark up first; the years of hostility or the half-formed mating claim that still lingers between them. The sequel to 'show me the way home', please read that one first!

Hot and emotional, I absolutely loved this. This is set during TGM, but there's a flashback to them having sex when Bradley is 18.

As we dance with the devil tonight, don't you dare look at him in the eye by Fuddlewuddle 2.5k, E, no archive warnings apply background goose/mav, cuckolding, male lactation, mommy kink, mentions of breeding/mpreg

He’s not sure why he does it. One second he’s laying there with Bradley wrapped around him—comforted by the presence of his big strong boy sleeping at his back, while Goose was away with work—and the next he’s moving Bradley’s large paw; thick fingers so much bigger than his own even though he’s barely eighteen years of age. He runs his own fingers under Bradley’s, pushing them upwards one by one, like the tick of a clock, before sweeping his palm over the back of Bradley’s hand—where the veins will get more pronounced as he grows further into his Alpha body—and moving it to between his legs; Bradley’s paw now offering his pussy a comforting embrace.

This is hot and a little fucked up, just how I like my Roosmav.

in between what's already done by crawsley 5k, E, creator chose not to use archive warnings extremely dubious consent, daddy kink

“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.

I know I've already recced this one in a previous post, but a Roosmav omegaverse rec list just wouldn't be complete without this. A deserved fandom favorite.

#roosmav #top gun maverick #alpha rooster #omega maverick #fic rec #rsmv recs

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ibetittering · 12 days

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We all know who wears the pants in the relationship

@katzenklavierr for the art 😋

#dude for a whole week this teacher has been showing up in increasingly more absurd costumes #Today was snowwhite yesterday was a hotdog #And the day before he was a little German boy shorts and all #Its so funny cause' he's like a middle aged white man #ITS NOT EVEN SPIRIT WEEK EITHER 😭😭😭#red vs blue #rvb #rooster teeth #rvb church #edit #rvb tex #chex #rvb chex #rvb beta #rvb alpha #halo #edits

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theosphobia · 2 months

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im gonan vyjrow up im so normal im normal

#rvb #red vs blue #rooster teeth #michael j caboose #caboose rvb #master chief #epsilon rvb #cortana #halo #CHIEFBOOSE SIBLINGS ARE REALLLL #they have never been shown holding epsilon/alpha like that #chief has always held his ai #they r so cute vomits

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itshoneywhatever · 11 months

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Commiseration Tuesday

With AO3 temporarily down, lots of us are sad at not being able to read when we wanted to! With that in mind, I’m taking the opportunity to invite you guys to share a little something from a WIP to keep us going through the downtime! Preferably something we haven’t shared before, but whatever works for you!

I truly think this an incredible idea!! Thank you so much @ravens-words for tagging me on this!! 💞

Hangster Bodyguard AU (with ABO Dynamics)

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but—” he stops when he notices that besides his father and Kerner, there’s another man there. An alpha he recognizes. “What are you doing here?” Jake doesn’t give time to answer. “Oh my god, are you stalking me?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“You two know each other?” Ron asks, looking between the two of them.

“Jake, explain yourself.” His father orders.

And that’s when Jake finally takes a moment to take in what's going on around the room: Kerner, their head of security, seems to have been interviewing someone; his father there presumably to meet this someone; his scheduled meeting with his father in regards to his own security.

“No.”

“No?” John repeats.

“He can’t be my bodyguard.”

“You’re the one I’m meant to protect?” The other alpha, Bradley if Jake remembers correctly, asks.

“Why can’t he?”

And here’s the thing, his father may be an alpha from the south but he and Jake have always had a good relationship, being able to talk about anything and everything. That’s why he doesn’t hesitate when he replies, “We slept together.”

Jake takes a special kind of satisfaction when he sees Bradley blush at his admission. His father, on the other hand, barely reacts; his eyes widening just the slightest bit.

“When was this?” John inquiries.

“My last business trip to LA.” It was exactly ten weeks ago, but Jake doesn’t want to seem desperate by saying that. It doesn’t matter, because his father knows the exact date he traveled to California to deal with a new business deal.

“Is he the reason why that trip was extended?” His father, not a man to beat around the bush, asks him with a knowing look and now it’s the omega’s turn to feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Maybe,” he answers.

His last business trip was meant to be a short one, three days if everything went okay and five days if the negotiations were dragged out. He met Bradley on his second night out and ended up staying for two weeks.

John looks at Bradley who squares his shoulders, trying to look strong yet at ease. And Jake has the feeling that maybe his father is picturing the younger alpha on a wedding suit and whether he’s worthy of being with his son.

Always the protector, his father is.

—

here’s another sneak peek 🫣

—

Tagging: @henswilsons @hangmanbradshaw @the-ace-with-spades @theshelbyclan @weeo and honestly anyone who sees this and wants to do it too! 💞

#hangster #bodyguard au #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw #omega jake seresin #alpha bradley bradshaw #abo dynamics #sereshaw

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nanny-sc · 10 months

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Omega Jake goes unexpectedly in heat while he is in mission.

Luckily an alpha rescues him, before the disaster, putting him in his room and take forniture for the omega every days. For the rest of time, days and nights, the alpha stays outside his room to make sure nobody can take advantage of the omega glaring to everyone who dare to be near them.

Jake's omega knows who is the alpha, he feels safe with him and pleased by the protectiness, strenght and nobless of his alpha but he is also worried because feel that his alpha doesnt care of himself to protect him, he promise himself to give all the love his alpha deserves when this is finish.

Jake wakes up one morning feeling better knowing the heat is ended, before to do anything else he goes to the door to thank the alpha and, if Jake likes him, asking for a date when they landed.

(Jake's omega is already planning the wedding and the name of their childrens: for some reason specified that hawaiian shirts are not allowed and the name of the first one will be Nick or Carole)

#hangster #sereshaw #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #omegaverse #top gun maverick #top gun #alpha omega

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 10 days

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Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 40

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1407

Warnings: Swearing, violence, pregnancy complications

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Hi Lo Hold On For Your Life

****

Ghost

Amid the chaos and fending for her life, Hangman's, and Maverick's, Ghost had forgotten a crucial thing: Rooster and Juliette. They were meant to swing by with their keys, and Ghost only remembered when she saw Rooster standing bewildered in the doorway, staring at the all-out brawl. His eyes slid to Ghost first, still lying on the floor and barely clinging to consciousness. She refused to pass out, terrified of what she'd wake up to if she did. Hangman had blood all over him, but whether it was his, Kyle's, or Nick's, Ghost couldn't tell. Maverick had blood on him, too, but not near as much as her boyfriend.

Get up! Get up! Get up! Ghost screamed silently at herself. Help them!

Her brain sent the order to her muscles, but they refused to obey. Meanwhile, Rooster entered the fray, joining Maverick in his endeavor to take down Nick once and for all. Hangman still battled Kyle, the latter gradually gaining the upper hand. Ghost could see her boyfriend's movements slowing down, could see him struggling to stay standing, but he endured.

Help him damn it! Get up and do something! Ghost snarled internally at herself. With a Herculean effort, she began the painful process of pushing herself up. Her vision swam from the concussion she knew she had, and her head throbbed where it'd hit the corner of the TV stand. It wouldn't surprise her if it were bleeding, but that could be handled later. For now, Ghost had to help the situation rather than lying useless on the floor, no matter how badly her head hurt.

Ghost grabbed hold of the TV stand and used it to hoist herself up. She waited for her vision to stop swimming, although even when the swirling halted, it remained teetering from side to side. Still, it was better than it had been, and Ghost had Kyle's ass to kick. She took a step forward right as Hangman crouched and rushed at Kyle football-style, grabbing his waist and knocking him back directly into the coffee table, which broke and splintered on impact. She cringed, the sound exponentially louder to Ghost than it truly was, her hearing hypersensitive due to the concussion. She shut her eyes, willing the pounding in her head to calm down, and when she opened them again, Ghost found Hangman sitting atop Kyle, pinning him to the ground. Scratches marred his arms, and blood trickled down his face and soaked his shirt, but he acted okay. Looking to her left, she saw Maverick and Rooster stumble backward from Nick exploding upwards from the ground. How was he still going?

Ghost blinked, and in that short time span, Nick collapsed to the ground. Behind him stood Juliette, a wooden baseball bat in her hands, lifted like she was ready to swing again if Nick stood. Then-

Silence.

The quiet- a sharp contrast to the noise from the brawl- exacerbated the ringing in Ghost's ears. She barely heard Rooster exclaim to Juliette, "What are you doing here?!" before hurling the contents of her stomach onto the floor.

"Ghost?!" Hangman shouted as she collapsed to her knees. Maverick rushed to her side, pulling her hair back as she vomited two more times.

"The cops will be here shortly," Juliette's distant voice said shakily.

"I told you to wait in the car!" Rooster snapped, righting the toppled armchair and ushering her into it. "What the hell were you thinking coming in here?"

"You were taking too long. I thought something might be wrong. I barely got to the window when I saw the fight, so I ran back to the car and grabbed the crowbar. When I returned and saw Nick stand, I realized he didn't know I was there, I saw the opportunity and took it."

"You took it! And put yourself and the twins in dang-"

"Bradley, I had the chance to do something, and I did it! Don't yell at me right now. We can argue about this later. For now, make sure Nick stays down until the cops come here." Juliette's tone, firm and furious, forced Rooster to listen. He grudgingly stalked over to the unconscious Seresin brother and pinned his arms behind his back.

"Ghost, you okay?" Juliette asked from across the room.

"My head..." Ghost groaned, clutching the backside of it. Warm liquid touched her skin, confirming her suspicion that it'd been bleeding.

"Lean back," Maverick ordered kindly. Ghost listened willingly but kept her eyes on Hangman, scanning him for any injuries. She couldn't see any through his blood-soaked shirt.

"Jake, are you okay?" she croaked out.

"I'm good."

Ghost noticed his wan pallor and decided Hangman was anything but 'good.' "Mav, help me over to him."

The Captain shook his head. "I don't think-"

"Either you help me, or I do it myself."

With a sigh of defeat, Maverick assisted Ghost in standing, keeping a firm hand around her waist to keep her upright. She sank to her knees beside Hangman the moment she reached him and gingerly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Is the blood yours or-"

"I don't know," Hangman admitted, leaning back when Maverick took over restraining Kyle, who had begun to stir. He sat on his heels and reached out to tug Ghost closer to him. She willingly allowed the embrace, melting in his arms when he kissed the top of her head.

"Jules, you okay?" Ghost slurred slightly, forcing her eyes to stay open. Sleep sounded like the best possible thing. It's all she could think about.

"Yeah. Shaken, but good. I'll help in a second and-"

"You going to stay right there until the cops come," Rooster interrupted shortly. "Your blood pressure is high enough. I don't want it getting any-"

Police entering the scene cut him off, and suddenly, a new flurry of activity overtook the apartment. Hangman tried standing but couldn't; instead, he swayed in place as if he might pass out. Ghost attributed it to the adrenaline wearing off, but when he fell forward and caught himself on all fours, that's when she saw the knife embedded in his back. Saw the slash wounds in his shirt, blood seeping out like little waterfalls.

Ghost had never screamed in her life before, but she did then. Screamed for someone to help him as the last of his strength finally gave out, and he collapsed in a heap. Ghost tried catching him, but her own injuries had zapped her strength, so the most she did was stop his head from crashing into the debris of the broken coffee table.

Paramedics surrounded them, and Ghost scrambled backward to allow them to work. Maverick dropped to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Ghost's head spun once more, but this time, not from her concussion. From seeing Hangman's ghastly injuries.

The paramedics blocked her view of him, and all she could think was that they needed more EMTs. So many injuries and so few people. God must've heard her thoughts because more first responders arrived shortly after, and they assessed her injuries along with Maverick's. The Captain, outside of a possible mild concussion and some wounds that would need minor stitching, was relatively okay. She was in the same boat, albeit with a moderate, possibly severe, concussion.

"What- Jake. How's- how's Jake?" Ghost demanded, straining to see past the paramedics.

"Get off me, pigs!" Nick's irate shouts pierced the air, and the sound caused a shudder to run down Ghost's spine. Maverick stood, expression murderous and only distorted by a brief wince of pain. He stared Nick down, watching him be dragged away by two burly cops. If looks could kill...

"We need to get him to the emergency room immediately," an EMT declared, capturing Ghost's attention. "We need a helicopter. Ambulance won't be fast enough."

"One's on the way," another responded.

"Good. Hey, uh, Miss, are you okay?" The man referred to Juliette. Ghost peered around him to study her friend, disturbed to find her standing and staring into space. Rooster cupped his fiancée's face, desperately attempting to get her attention. He failed, only succeeding in catching Juliette when her legs gave out from underneath her. He lay her on the floor, and then, Ghost noticed with horror that her best friend's body twitched and jerked uncontrollably; her eyes rolled in the back of her head.

Juliette was having a seizure.

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989 @atarmychick007 @rotating-obsessions @julieandthe-stan-toms @elisha-chloe

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38 Chp 39 Chp 40

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

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flowersonmymind1016 · 11 months

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Alpha/Omega Soulmate Hangster AU anyone?

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #hangster #alpha beta omega #soulmate au

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oopsiedaisiesbaby · 1 month

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Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Top Gun (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Tom “Iceman” Kazansky Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Breastfeeding, Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Pseudo-Incest, Growing Up Series: Part 3 of Top Gun Summary:

When Bradley was 6 years old, Pete’s life as he knew it changed irrevocably.

Or… the journey of Mav and Ice becoming Bradley’s parents and how their pack bonding ritual changes over the years.

#top gun #icemav #roosmav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete x tom #pete x bradley #pete x tom x bradley #tom x bradley #abo au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #dadmav #icepops

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blue-aconite · 2 years

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between the wolves || prologue

Summary: She was, after all, running away from him. From their future. A future she didn’t want.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin x OC

Authors Note: It’s finally here. Thank you to my werewolf love @anniesocsandgeneralstore for beta reading. Thank you for cheering me on, listening to me rant and being my best friend. This fic would not exist without you.

New Message

To: Sam H

“I’m sorry. I need some space. I need to breathe, to be alone. Take care. I’ll miss you.”

The last part was a lie, she thought as she stared at the screen before locking it and putting her phone away. She wouldn’t miss him. She was, after all, running away from him. From their future. A future she didn’t want.

Cassandra leaned back against the uncomfortable seat and closed her eyes. Check-in had gone smoothly and she wasn’t set to board her flight for another thirty minutes. She double checked her boarding pass and passport when her phone went off again.

There were four messages from Sam and two from her mother, including three voicemails. She had opened neither. At the top was a new message from her father.

1 New Message

From: Dad

“Be safe. Text me when you land. I’ll deal with your mother. And Sam.”

She smiled before setting the phone on flight mode and pocketed the device. Looking up, she saw people were beginning to move, anxious to board the plane but Cassandra stayed put. There was no point in rushing.

She might have been in the middle of one of the busiest airports in New York but she had never felt calmer. Leaving had been the right decision.

‘Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 75B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those passengers in first class, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes. Thank you.’

Cassandra gathered her things and joined the queue, letting an older couple through first.

“Thank you dear. Travelling alone?” the woman smiled kindly. She reminded Cassie of her own grandmother.

“Yes ma’am. A break from everything.” she smiled. The woman patted her arm before joining her husband again.

While settling into her seat Cassie couldn’t help but to think about what she had told the woman. A much needed break. She was aware that she was running but she didn’t know what else to do. So much of her life had been planned for her but wasn’t what she wanted. Not anymore.

Her mother had insisted on this ridiculously huge graduation party. Cassie hadn’t cared either way. She would have been fine with a family dinner. But appearances were important.

“I’m going to get another drink, be right back.” she patted Sam on the arm before heading inside. She smiled politely as she passed people but hurried out of sight as soon as possible.

She spotted the twins on her way up the stairs, talking with some of their father’s work associates. Cassie debated interrupting the conversation but continued walking. She didn’t stop until the door to the guest room was shut and locked behind her.

Leaning back against the door, she slid down onto the floor, not caring if she messed up the dress.

This was supposed to be a happy day. But all she could think about was the ring she had found in Sam’s bedside table a few days ago. She wasn’t stupid and she had seen the ring before, on his grandmothers hand. It was a family heirloom. Meant for one thing. Marriage.

Sam proposing wasn’t a surprise though. They had been together since they were sixteen years old and known each other longer than that. Sam was, in many ways, her best friend. Her first love. Her rock, her confidant. She loved him. Or at least she thought she did.

The thought of spending the rest of her life with him had her stomach in knots. She could see it so clearly, the future laid out in front of her. All planned. And she didn’t want it.

There was a point in her life where she wanted nothing else. At sixteen, Sam was everything she ever wanted. But she had never realised how much of it had been planned. Their mother’s had made suggestive comments for years, talking about her and Sam’s future before it had even begun. How much of it was true and how much of it was built on expectations?

Of course the love between them hadn’t been fake. She could truly say that she loved him. She just wasn’t sure she was in love with him anymore. And the ring had only solidified what she already knew. She needed to get away, to sort out her feelings on her own. Without Sam, without her mother’s constant meddling.

Leaving the bedroom, she went back downstairs only to run into Sam in the kitchen.

“There you are. I’ve been looking, you’ve been gone for a while,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her.

“Sorry, I got caught up in my own head. I’m actually not feeling very well. Would you please distract my mother while I slip away?”

“Leaving your own party, bold. But I’ll do it.” Sam leaned in for a kiss but she turned her head just in time for him to kiss her cheek.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, yeah?” she slipped away before he could answer.

Cassie didn’t slow down until she was in a cab on her way to JFK, no destination in mind. All she knew was that she needed to leave.

When Cassandra lands in Anchorage, she already knows it isn’t her final destination. She doesn’t need another big city. Alaska had seemed perfect when she left New York but she wanted somewhere small. But she had no idea where that would be.

Cassie trudges along with the rest of the passengers towards baggage claim. The eleven hour flight had taken its toll. Not to mention the different time zones. She spotted her bags fairly early and grabbed them off the conveyor belt and made for the exit.

Sitting down on a bench, she digs out her phone and resets the airplane mode. Several messages pop up on her screen but she ignores them in favour of texting her dad that she made it. The clock on the wall shows four am and Cassie realises how tired she is.

A quick google search lands her on a hotel fairly close to the airport and then she orders a uber. Fifteen minutes later the driver is helping her into the lobby with her bags. She books a room for one night only and collapses onto the bed immediately.

She has no idea where she’s going next. But the growing anxiety is lessening by the minute and when sleep claims her, she isn’t worried. She would be alright. No matter what.

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