sunderlust - Tumblr blog

sunderlust · 2 years

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cross my heart (hope to die) | b.r.b.

summary: You didn’t know if it was the sound of the waves crashing over each other, or the calm of the beach before it got busy around noon, or just the breezy salty air, but it relaxed you, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. “Nah,” Rooster replied, having opted to lie down in the sand, his head resting on his jacket he had brought. There was an odd look on his face, that you couldn’t quite place. “We’ve been through every single possible scenario of this mission. We’re the best there are.” or, it's easy to fall in love with Rooster. It's a bit harder to be in love with him.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: discussion of mortality, mention of suicidal thoughts, nothing graphic but generally angsty idk what to tell you

word count: 5,3k

author’s note: BYE. had this in my drafts for so long but i'm glad it's out now. it's gonna hurt guys, ngl. but i hope you'll love it.

“You nervous?”

Your arms were curled around your legs as you sat on the beach, the waves lapping at the shore. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, but Rooster woke you up in the darkness of the early night, taking you out to the beach before you’d have to get on the carrier in a couple of hours. While you were kind of mad at Rooster for robbing you of your precious sleep so close to arguably one of the most important missions of your life, you were glad he did by the time you sat your ass down in the sand.

You didn’t know if it was the sound of the waves crashing over each other, or the calm of the beach before it got busy around noon, or just the breezy salty air, but it relaxed you, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“Nah,” Rooster replied, having opted to lie down in the sand, his head resting on his jacket he had brought. There was an odd look on his face, that you couldn’t quite place. “We’ve been through every single possible scenario of this mission. We’re the best there are.”

Rooster’s confidence seemed stable, but maybe that came with having successfully completed a mission like this before. Obviously, every mission was different, but it helped, coming home from a mission that seemed impossible. While the mission that formed their squadron was classified to everyone outside the squadron and the higher-ups, it was common knowledge that no one had expected them to come home. But they did; all of them did.

You hoped that you’d be just as lucky this time.

With a big sigh, you leaned your head on your knees, your chest shaking as you inhaled. In some ways, you knew Rooster was right. You did everything you were something to do, you knew the map inside out. But you still couldn’t help the clammy feeling around your heart.

“Sunshine, you okay?” Rooster asked after a particular uncharacteristically long silence from you. He sat up, his hand reaching out to curl around your shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Yeah.”

You turned to face him and your heart swelled with incredible fondness for the man. Bradley knew. He knew that you were nervous and he knew what you needed to calm your nerves and feel a bit a bit more confident.

“We should grab some coffee for the others on our way back. As a last treat before we have to endure the crappy food on the carrier. I know for one that Phoenix would appreciate it.”

“Fine,” Rooster sighed, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Laying his hand in yours, he pulled you up with just a tad too much force, causing you to fall against his chest. Breath hitching in your throat, you stared up at him, blinking.

This has been the way it has always been. Always a step from the tethering edge, close enough to feel the dip, but never close enough for the fall. The romantic in you thought, this was it, this was perfect. Just the two of you, on the beach at sunrise. Rationally, you knew this was about the worst moment you could pick to confess your feelings.

Your heart nearly thumped out of your chest, but Rooster let go of your hand all too soon, taking a step back.

“Come on, we should get to the coffee shop before rush hour starts.”

Swallowing your disappointment, you followed Rooster back to his car, dropping by at the nearest coffee shop. When you got back to base, the rest of the squadron was up and running and beforelong, you were standing in the dorm on the carrier, t-20 hours until take-off. The atmosphere was tense and conversations dull between food at the mess hall and everyone lost in their own thoughts.

Inside your dorm, you shared with the other two women on the squadron, it was quiet, apart from the quiet whispers between Halo and Phoenix as they laid squished in one bed.

You envied them. You often thought about pulling Rooster aside to talk, but you never quite got the courage to do it, and now it almost seemed like it was too late. Both of you were going on the mission and there was nothing that would change that. Maybe it was stupid to have developed feelings for your teammate, a fellow naval aviator nonetheless. You knew how many risks your job brought, how easy it was to perish in an explosion, be lost at sea or fall out of the sky, wing’s clipped.

But there was little you could do about feelings. With one last look at them, you turned over in your bed to face the wall, closing your eyes.

Soon, the constant swaying of the carrier lulled you into a restless sleep, and you dreamed of explosions, planes falling out of the sky and an all too familiar voice crying out your name. You only woke up when there were short raps on your door and you immediately swung your legs out of the bed. Phoenix gave you a tight smile as she laced her boots, Halo standing next to her, quiet and in thoughts.

“Drinks on me when we get back on land, yeah?” Phoenix offered and you smiled crookedly, wrapping her and Halo in a tight hug. When you broke apart, you straightened your shoulders and headed to the mass, where the last briefing for the mission would be held.

“- only works, if all plants are destroyed at the same time. You’ve been briefed on the terrain,” Warlock’s voice boomed through the room and stared at him, eyes hard. From your position, you could see Rooster’s head, but he didn’t look your way, eyes trained to the front.

“ This is what you’ve been training for. Come home safely.”

The crowd dispersed, your squadron headed on deck. The silence below deck immediately disappears, the sounds of waves crashing against the carrier, paired with announcements being made over the intercom and helicopter’s buzzing made it nearly impossible for you to hear your own thoughts.

Holding your helmet closely to your side, you walked up to your plane, stilling when you saw Rooster standing in front of it, squinting his eyes against the sun.

“Hey. I got your back, yeah?”

“‘course. I got yours, too.”

Rooster shook his head, his hand tightening the strap of his flight suit. “Make sure to watch out for Hangman’s speed, he tends to get carried away when he’s nervous. Don’t worry about me.”

He turned to leave, but you furrowed your brows, confused.

“Hey,” you called out, reaching out to grasp his sleeve, forcing him to look at you. “The hell do you mean don’t worry about me? I know I am not your wingman, but I got your back.”

“I’m good. Either way, I got people waiting for me on the other side.”

Your blood chilled at his words and suddenly you recognized the look on his face. Before you could open your mouth to speak, the intercom speakers crackled to life, orders being sent around. Rooster stared at you for a while, before he turned on his heel, walking to his plane. It was like you lost control over your legs, as you stayed rooted in the spot where Rooster had left you, knowing you had to get in your plane.

“Hey sunshine, don’t tell me you got mission jitters.”

Hangman’s face was smug as he approached you, though his expression quickly changed when he saw your face.

“Promise me you will watch Rooster’s six.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replied, brows furrowed. “I’m his wingman.”

“Jake, I’m serious. Make sure he’s coming home.”

Hangman looked like he wanted to ask, you rarely used his given name, but he set his mouth in a straight line. You gave him a tight hug, breathing out before letting go, marching over to your plane. With a gentle pat on the cold exterior, you climbed the ladder of our F-18, settling in the seat as the flight-crew did the last preparations before send-off. You exhaled as the canopy lowered over you, cutting you off from the outside world, with only the radio crackling in your ear.

“Dagger One, up and ready on Catapult one.”

You inhaled sharply before Cyclone gave the orders for send-off, and one after the other, you were sent into the air, flying in formation. As you flew across the ocean, no one was speaking, the only sound in your ears was the sound of the F-18s.

“We’re about to enter enemy territory,” Rooster’s voice sounded in your ear and you gripped the throttle of your plane, as you broke from formation to get into pairs, a single and pair each. With one last look at Rooster’s plane, you headed East on the mainland, Phoenix and Bob closely behind you.

For the next ten minutes, you flew to your target, checking the time.

“I’m a minute out,” you spoke into your radio, getting affirmations from Rooster and Hangman. “Bob, get the laser ready, we only have one shot at this.”

“Laser is ready to go.”

Slowly approaching the target, your finger sits on the button that would drop the bomb, waiting for Rooster’s signal, beads of sweat running down your temple.

“Drop the bomb in three. Two. One. Bombs away.”

Pressing down on the button, your breath hitched, breaking left just as the plant blew up, two other explosions sounding immediately. That was the easy part.

Almost immediately, the emergency SAMs deployed, locking tone on you.

“Smoke in the air!”

You broke right, releasing flares to block the missile from hitting you, catching Phoenix out of the corner of your eye, doing the same. For a while, you just flew in circles, trying to evade the missiles when you saw Rooster, Payback and Fanboy approaching, with Hangman, Omaha and Halo hot on their heels.

“We got some company,” Hangman spoke through the coms, and because the SAMs already weren’t nuisance enough, four enemy planes approached and you cursed.

“Are those J20s?”

You quickly dispersed from formation, so as to not make it too easy for the enemy to shoot you down all at once, pulling stunts and tricks out of nowhere. You’ve never seen J20 in real life before, only in pictures and during briefings. And clearly those didn’t do the fighter jets any justice.

All of you were scrambling to evade the J20’s missiles, and it was a dog fight. None of you could risk making a mistake, as it would mean certain death. Rooster, however, was flying like he had lives to spare. Flying in loops, switching between the J20 as if it was nothing and made your blood boil.

It was obvious that he wasn’t being as careful as the rest of you, acting as bait and defense shield at the same time.

“I’m out of flares,” Rooster breathed into the coms, before swearing. “Fuck, they got tone on me.”

Panic surged in you and you broke right, not knowing if you’d make it over to where he was in time, when you saw a missile dropping from the J20 behind him. You already saw his plane exploding in front of your eyes, when a missile hit the enemy plane, just in time.

“We can’t keep meeting like this, Rooster,” Hangman said with a teasing lilt, relief clear in his voice, as his plane emerged from the smoke. “Let’s head back out to the carrier, we can take the last J20 together.”

As you flew back West, with the J20 right behind you, an alarm suddenly went off in all of your radar’s alerting you to another enemy airplane. It was coming right at you, guns blazing. Like every sane person, you broke away as the others broke from formation as well but Rooster stayed on the route, facing the J20 straight on, another one on his back.

“Rooster, what the hell are you doing?” you hissed into the coms.

“I can’t get a lock on the J20, get the hell out of there Rooster,” Hangman yelled, but Rooster didn’t let that deter him.

“I got it under control.”

The J20 dropped missiles at the same time, and at the last second, Rooster pulled up, the missiles hitting one J20 each.

“Holy shit!”

“You crazy son of a bitch!”

The other’s shared their excited sentiments through the coms as you approached the carrier, the crew team already crowding around the deck. One by one, you landed the planes and by the time your canopy opened, there was already a crowd forming around Rooster’s plane. The mood was spirited, everyone was celebrating the success of the mission and Rooster when he climbed out of his plane. But you? You were feeling anything but happy right now. Your hair was wild after pulling your helmet off of your head, shouldering past the celebrating crowd, face hard.

“Sunshine-” Hangman started, his hand on your shoulder trying to hold you back, but you merely shrugged him off, your eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that, Bradshaw!” you snapped, coming to a stop in front of Rooster.

His smile faltered when he saw your expression, but he rolled his shoulders, standing straight. He had a couple inches on you, you however, did not let that deter your fury as you stared up at him.

“What do you mean? The mission was a success. Everyone got home safely.”

“Yeah, but no thanks to you.”

You realized that you were causing a scene, in the middle of the carrier. Cyclone was probably just in ear-shot and there was a fat chance that you’d get reprimanded for your behavior, but right this moment, you didn’t care about that. It was like your words immediately ended the impromptu celebration on deck.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Your first mistake was pulling that stunt without letting any of us know. It was fucking suicidal and could have gotten someone hurt,” you snapped at him and Rooster frowned at you.

“There was no time to think, I had to act.”

“God, again with this don’t think, just do? Mav’s retired, maybe you should retire his slogans too.”

“Sunshine, I got it done,” Rooster insisted and you rolled your eyes so hard. “I did what had to be done, there was no other way.”

“Fucking bullshit. The second mistake was not thinking of us. We’re a team up there, Rooster and you acting like this put everyone at risk. If you really want to die so badly, don’t you pull me or the rest of the team into this.”

With that, you pushed your way through the gaping crowd and headed below deck into the changing rooms with quick strides. You pushed the door open, letting it fall shut in its hinges and only when it clicked in its place, you feeling secure in your four walls, you finally let the angry tears fall.

You cried.

You cried for Bradley, a man who still believed that he had no one. You cried for every naval aviator who thought they had nothing and no one to lose. You cried because you weren’t enough for Bradley wanting to fight for his life in the first place.

When there were no more tears left to cry, you picked yourself up from the bench, wiping your wet cheeks. You still smelled like jet fuel and you just wanted to wash this whole mission off of you. So you stripped down, crumpling your flight suit on the floor and stepped into the showers letting the warm water run down your body.

A few seconds after, the door to the changing rooms swung open and you heard footsteps coming in before stopping. You didn’t turn off the shower, instead you waited until they spoke up.

“It’s me.”

You let out a sigh of relief when you recognized Phoenix’ voice, turning the water off.

“Cyclone wants to see you in his office after you’re done.”

The water dripped down your body as you processed Phoenix’ words. Of course you had expected some sort of consequence after having a screaming match on deck, but to actually hear her telling you that the Vice Admiral wanted a word, was a whole nother thing. You cleared your throat quietly, hoping your voice wouldn’t sound too congested.

You didn’t want her to know that you’d been crying.

“Sure, okay… Thanks.”

It was silent for a minute, you didn’t hear her leave, nor was she saying anything. Holding your breath, you waited, before Phoenix made a small noise of defeat and her steps receded, until you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting. You shut your eyes, hands reaching for the shower handle to turn it on and as the sound of the splashing water echoed in your ears, you leaned your forehead against the cold tiles.

“- unacceptable! I know the impossible circumstances of the mission have been heavy on all of you, but you’ve displayed extremely inappropriate behavior on deck today. Losing it like that in front of the whole crew? Yelling at a fellow aviator, who has seniority?”

You clenched your jaw as you stood in front of Cyclone, your hands clasped behind your back, face neutral, not a strand of hair out of place. You had made sure that your uniform was spotless, so Cyclone couldn’t find another reason to ream you.

“I am sorry sir.”

Cyclone stared you down, before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. It was hard to read him, you couldn’t tell if he was about to boot you from the squadron and send you right back to Corpus Christi.

“Did you mean what you said?” he then asked, catching you off guard. “Do you really think that Lieutenant Bradshaw was putting himself in more danger than was necessary?”

“... Yes.”

“Very well, then. I’ll take your words into consideration.”

“Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” you wanted to know. “Are you going to kick him off the squadron?”

“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”

Cyclone’s tone was final and with a chagrined look, you turned to leave his office, shutting the door behind you. Pressing your heel of your hand against your eye, rubbing it in frustration, you made your way back to your bunk. Luckily, the room was empty and you released your hair from your tight bun with a hiss before you climbed into the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You kept your back to the door, trying to force yourself to sleep, but it never came, though neither Phoenix nor Halo returned to the bunks, so at least you didn’t have to act like you were okay.

You were glad that you didn’t let the mission force you to confess your feelings for Rooster. All of it would have been way more complicated. He might’ve seen you as weak, yelling at him for risking his own life like that, instead of taking your claims seriously. You couldn’t help but wonder, if Rooster really believed his own life to be so worthless, if he believed that there was no one left who loved him. Did he really not know how you felt for him? Or worse, did he know, or just deem your love not enough to want to stay alive?

When the carrier docked on the marina, you barely managed to say your good-byes to the rest of the squadron, while keeping a safe distance from Rooster. But as you walked towards the parking lot, you realized that you had come with Rooster, and clearly there was no way you’d get in the same car with him now.

“Hey Jake!” you called, catching up with Hangman and Coyote. “Can you give me a ride?”

“Sure, hop in.”

You opened the door of his sports car, settling into the backseat, your duffle back between your legs. Buckling up, you ignored how Hangman and Coyote were exchanging looks in the front.

“So are you just never going to talk to him again?”

“Can we not talk about this right now?”

“I mean, I’m giving you a ride, the least you could do is shine some light as to why you freaked out like that,” Hangman pointed out and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Seriously?”

Hangman raised an eyebrow at you, Coyote only shrugged with his shoulders, though the curiosity on his face was apparent.

“I could just walk home, you know that, right?”

“You wouldn’t.”

Your patience was wearing thin and you furrowed your brows in irritation as you unbuckled yourself, your hand reaching for the door handle, never breaking eye contact with Hangman before he sighed.

“Fine. Have it your way, no more questions.”

Satisfied, you nestled yourself back into the seat after buckling up again, and the rest of the car ride was spent in silence from your side while Hangman and Coyote conversed in the front. It didn’t take long until you reached your place.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said with a small smile, clapping Hangman on the shoulder. He glanced back at you, his forehead creased.

“Are you going to be okay?”

You nodded, waving goodbye to Coyote before you exited the car, walking inside the building of your apartment. It was just like you left it in the morning before you departed for the carrier, but somehow, you felt completely different. Tossing your duffel bag in the corner of your bathroom, you headed straight to bed, hoping you’d get a good night of rest.

The next morning, you startled awake, your heartbeat fast. It took you a second to realize what exactly woke you up, before the incessant bangs against your door started again. Swinging your legs out of your bed, you walked in quick strides to your front door, pulling it open just to see Rooster staring down at you, his cheeks splotching red. Without a word, he brushed past you, stopping in your living room. You shut your door, crossing your arms as you followed him slowly, your eyes wary.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Your blood boiled at his words, because, for a split second you had expected that he had come over to apologize.

“Excuse me?”

“What were you thinking telling Cyclone that I was suicidal?”

“That’s not what I said,” you pointed out, but Rooster only rolled his eyes.

“You might as well have. Are you trying to tank my career?”

You stilled at that, swallowing thickly. It was only then, that you really took in his appearance. He was dressed in his khakis, hair a bit messy, like he tried a bit too hard to gel it down but gave up after about fifteen minutes. It was still early and your squadron had gotten the following two weeks off to recuperate after the mission, so Cyclone must have called him in to talk.

“What happened?”

“They’re making me see a shrink.”

The fact that he said shrink and him thinking seeing a therapist would ruin his career made you laugh, which only aggravated Rooster further.

“This isn’t funny, sunshine. We’re talking about my job.”

“Did the thought ever cross you that therapy would be a good thing for you? It’s nothing to be shameful about,” you then said, after your laughter subsided.

He narrowed his eyes on you. “They’ll think I am weak.”

“Rooster-” you started, your voice gentle, but you barely got another word out before he interrupted you.

“You have to go back to Cyclone and tell him that you were wrong.”

“I’m not going back on my word and I most definitely will not lie just so you don’t have to go to therapy, Rooster,” you snapped at him, all the sympathy you just felt for him, flying out of the window, just to be replaced with anger. “Do you even remember what you said to me, Rooster? The way you talked about your life like you were expendable? That it wouldn’t matter if you made it back or not? I know you’re stubborn but get it through your thick skull that there are people who care about you and who very much do care about whether you made it back from a mission or not.”

Rooster raised his eyebrows in surprise, his mouth agape as if he was struggling to find the right words. But you had heard enough. Walking back to your front door, you opened it, glaring back at Rooster.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to bed. Good bye, Rooster.”

You held the door open and while Rooster stayed still for a few seconds, you didn’t give in until he hunched his shoulders over and left your apartment. Rooster even turned back, opening his mouth yet again, but before he could say anything, you slammed the door shut. Leaning your forehead against the door, you sighed deeply before pushing away.

This was not how you imagined your morning going.

Crawling back under your blanket, you hoped to shut out the rest of the world and get a grip on your whirlwind of emotions. It was insane how Rooster managed to make you feel sad for one second and then inexplicably mad by the next. He made it so easy to fall for him, so easy to be drawn in by his charms, but by the time you realized that he was more than just a pretty man with a silly mustache, he put up his defensive walls.

You spent most of the time in your bed for the remainder of your time off. Even though Halo and Phoenix, sometimes even Hangman, texted you to come out to the Hard Deck constantly, you couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Rooster, simmering in his anger and making you responsible for his apparent miserable situation.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you stood in front of your mirror, tugging the collar of your uniform straight. Getting a Commendation medal for the mission was really the last thing you needed right now. You gently flattened your hair against your scalp once more, before grabbing your purse and hat, making your way to base.

Judging by the amount of cars in the parking lot, you were the last to arrive, so you quickly set the hat on your head while staring into the side mirror of your car. When you straightened yourself up again, you saw Rooster pulling up right next to you. Your eyes met for a split second, and you held his gaze for too long, only breaking away when he gave you a solemn nod.

You didn’t wait for him to get out of the car, instead you hurried inside, where it was crawling with uniformed Navy personnel. It didn’t take you long until you spotted the squadron sitting in the front rows, sliding into your seat next to Phoenix and Halo.

“Hey. How have you been?”

“Been better,” you grimaced at Phoenix.

“You made it just in time,” Halo told you. “Cyclone’s about to start his speech.”

And as if the admiral was just waiting for the cue, he stepped on the small stage, approaching the podium just as Rooster took the last seat in the second row.

“- and I would like to ask the squadron to join me on the stage.”

You, and the rest of the members of the squadron that were a part of the mission stood and walked up on stage orderly, staring straight ahead as Cyclone continued his speech, a perfect picture of the perfect squadron.

“It’s my greatest honor to bestow this medal to this squadron under the leadership of Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, callsign: Rooster.”

Are you trying to tank my career? echoed in your head and you fought the urge to send Rooster a condescending smile. Either he had actually gotten on his ass and gone to therapy or Cyclone was gritting his teeth while pinning the medal on Rooster’s chest. Maybe he’d try to prick his skin, too. You wouldn’t blame him.

When Cyclone finally stood in front of you, he gave you an almost imperceptible nod before pinning the medal on your chest. You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding and Cyclone returned to the podium, closing out his speech.

After all the pictures were taken, you were free from the official program, and you headed straight to the refreshment table, grabbing a glass of champagne, fleeing to a corner that was more quiet. A more zealous aviator, like Hangman, would use this golden opportunity to rub some elbow with some of the higher ranked officials, but you were too anxious to get a good word out. Sipping on your champagne you could see Rooster approaching you cautiously out of the corner of your eyes, but you made no move to make it clear that he had seen you.

Even as he settled in next to you, you kept your eyes on Harvard and Yale as they were talking to Admiral Kerner.

Rooster cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to another. “Hey.”

“Are you here to yell at me for trying to ruin your career again, Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

Your tone was cold, maybe even colder than you had intended, but it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it. And judging by the way Rooster was wincing, he knew he did.

“I wanted to apologize. I never realized how I came across and I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t matter… I actually went to see the shr-, the therapist,” he said, quickly correcting himself, flushing. “He’s not a bad guy. A bit pretentious but he’s been helping a lot. He made me realize that I tend to lash out a lot when I feel betrayed, especially by people that I love.”

You tensed at the words that came tumbling out of his mouth. Did he just-? Bewildered, you turned your head to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed. Rooster’s cheeks colored as he realized the extent of his face.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean- I mean, I didn’t-. Fuck.” He rubbed his hand across his face, puffing out a breath of frustration. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

Your heart nearly hammered out of your chest and you thought he was actually fucking with you until Rooster looked at you with those eyes, that was when you knew that he was being sincere. Swallowing thickly, you cast your eyes down, before slowly reaching your hand down, entangling your fingers with his.

He looked at you in surprise.

“Do you know how much it hurt when you said you had people waiting on the other side? Acting like it wasn't a big deal if we lost you? If I lost you?” you asked quietly, your voice breaking.

“I know, I know. I am working on it. Guess I am more fucked up than I though, huh?”

Rooster chuckled darkly, but you only squeezed his hand.

“Everyone has baggage. Nobody is going to judge you for that. But it’s the way you handle that baggage that makes a difference. If you’re just going to let your baggage define you and make the choices for you, I don’t know if I can take that. I don’t know if I can watch you run yourself into the ground in the hopes of becoming a hero, Rooster.”

“I am not. I won’t.”

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath, your fingers still intertwined with Rooster’s and when you looked over to him, you wanted to grab his face so badly to plant a kiss on him. But you were already playing with fire by holding hands at an official Naval event, you weren’t going to make a fool out of yourself by making out with a fellow aviator. The look on Rooster’s face told you that he wanted to kiss you just as badly, and for now, that was enough.

It had to be.

author's note: pls don't kill me. also i can’t believe i pulled this don’t think just do thing twice but i promise this was written first. don’t forget to comment/like/reblog if you enjoyed it🥹

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#lisi 💎#see that’s ur tag bc of choices 🥴#comment later #ily lisi :(

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