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crinkled-emotions · 4 months

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Day 26: Food coma naps

Requested! The initial prompt just requested Hangman, a food coma and either Bob or Rooster :)

Ship: Hangster

(I swear I'm going to write something else after this lmao)

“Guys, I really think we outdid ourselves this year. We’re gonna be eating leftovers for the next month.”

“Don’t worry about the leftovers; I don’t think my belt is ever going to do up again.”

Everyone laughed, beginning the clean up from Christmas lunch. They’d finished eating about half an hour ago and just remained at the table, talking and drinking. Amelia was with her father for the holidays so Penny and Maverick had offered to host the Daggers in attempt to distract themselves. Instead of Penny making all of the dishes, everyone had contributed and they’d mostly used paper plates and plastic cutlery so there wasn’t a ton of dishes or clean up to be done.

Hangman stretched in his seat, his hand finding Rooster’s back who was looking like he regretted that last serving of pie. To be fair, everyone was regretting their last slice of pie.

“C’mon, let’s clean up,” Coyote said. The Daggers stood and began bagging up the rubbish, waving off Penny and Maverick when they went to help.

“You hosted us; the least we can do is clean up a little,” Fanboy smiled. Whilst the others worked on getting things fixed up, Rooster and Hangman went into the kitchen to get through the minimal dishes needed to be done. Rooster rolled up his sleeves, preparing to wash whilst Hangman located a dry dishtowel. As Rooster washed Hangman methodically dried and stacked the dishes on the counter so Penny could put them away in their correct spot, talking quietly between themselves until Hangman stopped responding.

Rooster glanced over his shoulder.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned against the counter, yawning quietly.

“Don’t you start,” Rooster groaned. Hangman grinned.

“Start what?”

“If you start yawning I’m gonna start yawning.”

“Oh c’mon, a little nap never hurt anyone.”

Hangman reached out, pulling Rooster toward him by the waist. Rooster huffed as he stepped into Hangman’s arms but he was smiling.

“A little nap? We both know it’s not little.”

The pair burst out laughing, Rooster pressing a kiss to Hangman’s temple before going back to the dishes.

“C’mon, let’s finish these and then you can nap.”

The others had already spread out across Penny and Maverick’s living area, leaving a loveseat for the two aviators to share. Rooster flopped down first but Hangman didn’t hesitate to sit on his lap which earned groans from around the room.

“Can you two not be in love for once?” Fanboy complained, Bob nodding.

“We just ate. Don’t make me nauseous.”

“Are you gonna rock him to sleep?” Phoenix snickered, to which Rooster shrugged but Hangman very quickly shook his head.

“As Bob said; we just ate. I wouldn’t if I were him.”

That being said, he did scoot to rest his head on Rooster’s shoulder. Rooster sucked in a breath, grasping his boyfriend’s arm.

“Jake, can you not-“

“-what are we watching?” Penny interrupted as Fanboy flicked through Netflix, trying to find a Christmas movie. He glanced over.

“How do you feel about the Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas movie?”

“We all know we’re gonna be asleep in five minutes anyway, might as well pass out to a great soundtrack,” Payback said. Bob glanced at Phoenix beside him, an amused smile crossing his features. She was already half asleep despite teasing Hangman for his food-coma-induced potential nap.

“You good?”

“Shut up.”

She lifted his arm to use his chest as a pillow and by the time the movie was starting she was asleep. Bob ran a hand over her back, moving in slow circles whilst the others all settled into the movie.

About halfway through the movie Rooster stirred, grimacing when he realised he couldn’t feel his legs. His arm was still across Jake’s waist, gently circling his hip. It appeared the others had also flaked, strewn across the living room and napping off their food comas. Rooster sighed, his hand reaching up to work his fingers through Hangman’s hair. Jake groaned, turning his face back toward the crook of Bradley’s neck and huffing at him.

“I was finally asleep, asshole,” he muttered. Rooster’s lips twitched upward in amusement as he kept his hand in Jake’s hair, scratching at the back of his neck. It made Hangman shiver, eyes falling closed again but Rooster poked him in the ribs.

“Don’t go back to sleep; c’mon, let’s go home, our bed is much more comfortable.”

“Pretty comfy here, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Jake replied. He shifted, pulling his arm out from where it had previously been tucked behind Rooster’s back for support. He dropped a kiss to Rooster’s forehead, standing and holding his hand out to him.

“Okay, let’s go home.”

Rooster grabbed his keys and wallet, then as an afterthought shoved them in his pocket to grab Hangman’s hand.

“C’mon, babe. If you fall asleep in the car just know I’m leaving you there.”

“You always say the most romantic things, Roos.”

The pair made a beeline for their bed, not even bothering to get under the covers before they flopped on top of it. Rooster pulled himself up to the pillows but Hangman stayed by his stomach, lifting Rooster’s shirt to blow a raspberry before he slung an arm over him. Rooster glanced down at him, an amused smile crossing his face.

“Is it comfortable down there?”

“It’ll do.”

“You’re gonna put your neck out; c’mere.”

Rooster put his hands under Hangman’s arms, suggesting he scoot up. Hangman groaned.

“You’re killing me.”

“Me? I think it might have been that last slice of pie.”

“It’s always the last slice of pie,” Jake yawned. He shifted up, letting Bradley press a kiss to his forehead before they went quiet. Rooster drifted back off to sleep but Jake stayed up a little longer, the earlier nap fixing the worst of the food coma. He glanced up at Rooster, already snoring his ass off, and he snorted.

“Happy holidays, B.”

#Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin #Hangman #Callsign: Hangman #Hangster #G's Dec 2023 Prompts!

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enthyrea · 1 month

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my tg86 piece for @topgunzine!

i actually drew this in april of last year- i’m so glad to finally post it! thank you to everyone who bought and supported the zine 🤍🛩️

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laceyamethyst · 2 years

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okay my mind went down this hangster rabbit hole, but bear with me.

so we all know hangman's helmet is designed so it looks like a game of hangman (or hungman, if you ask glen powell lol). and rooster's helmet has a horizontal line going through the word "ROOSTER", as if someone's crossed the letters out. and what do you usually do when you're playing hangman and you guess a letter incorrectly? you cross it out. and the words R-O-O-S-T-E-R and H-A-N-G-M-A-N don't share any of the same letters, so of course all of rooster's letters would be crossed off if the word he's trying to guess is hangman.

so basically no one can tell me hangman didn't help roo design his helmet (because we all know rooster wouldn't know his way around designing a paper bag), and as a joke he crosses all the letters out, cause "you can't spell hangman with any of these letters, so you lose." it's meant to be a joke but rooster loves it because it ties their designs together in a cute and subtle way -- "but i can't lose when i'm with you, baby" -- like they're always playing their own cute game of hangman. and roo's always game for anything (adventures, missions, life, marriage), as long as he's doing it with jake.

#sereshaw #hangster #hangman x rooster #tg:m #i thought about this for way too long #but seriously #why else would rooster's callsign be crossed out in his helmet #like that's not a cute design feature #it's more proof of hangster okay #thanks for coming to my ted talk #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick

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andmakeithome · 1 month

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love in our pockets, made these memories ours

And there they are, the three of them: Goose and Carole absolutely glowing, heads tipped together, and Maverick tucked in the corner, startled grin on his face. “Here,” Carole says, startling him out of his reverie and pressing the photo into his hand, squeezing his arm again. “A reminder of the people you’ll always have in your corner. And don’t you go doubting it, now. This is proof.” or: Three little moments spread out over the years. Each tie back to Maverick's photo collection.

read on ao3

finally time to share our pieces from @topgunzine !! this project was an absolute blast to work on and mod and I'm so incredibly happy I got to help put it all together!! thank you to all of our contributors and to all who supported this project; hope y'all enjoy! 💜

#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #carole bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #icemav #top gun #callsigns #callsignszine #tg86 #tgm #words from lyss #SO excited to finally share this 🎉#leftovers coming soon!!!

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xivdl · 2 years

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hungman & rooster

slight n/s/f/w if you squint

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blue-aconite · 2 years

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it’s to you i will always return || b.b & j.s

Summary: Missing her boys while they’re on deployment.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader

Authors Note: This is for @callsign-phoenix 500 followers celebration! It’s a little late but it’s here now! Congratulations Soph on 500 followers! And thank you to @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @anniesocsandgeneralstore for beta’ing!

Six months without her boyfriends was a long time. Both Bradley and Jake were away on deployment, leaving her by herself in their house. Work had mostly kept her busy but going to sleep and waking up alone was getting tiresome. Especially today. It was their two year anniversary. They had both expressed their discontent on being away on this day but she had assured them it was alright and they could celebrate when they got back home.

She didn’t even know where they were. The details had been few and both had apologised over and over. She never blamed them. She knew what she signed up for when their whole relationship started. She could almost say she was used to it. Her dad would be gone for months at a time when she was a kid. But it was somehow different when it was your significant other.

Deciding there was no point in moping around all day, she got up to take a shower, hoping it would make her feel better. It didn’t. She had hoped there would be a text message or something waiting for her but no such luck. She knew they were busy and communication was difficult but it was still their special day.

Breakfast was dull, a sad excuse really. Not even the coffee could make her feel better. The picture of the three of them in Bali stared back at her from its place on the living room wall. She smiled as she thought back on the vacation.

The boys had managed to get some time off and surprised her with a two-week long vacation to Bali. They had booked a beautiful resort and they had spent two weeks basking in the sun, surfing and no work. It was wonderful. She never wanted it to end. All three of them had busy schedules and while they always made time for each other, uninterrupted time was rare.

Her phone brought her back to reality, pinging with a text message. Excited that it might be one of the boys, she was disappointed when it was her father, asking if she wouldn’t mind swinging by his house and picking up something he’d forgotten for work.

Having the day off and nothing better to do, she threw out the rest of her toast and headed for Bradley’s Bronco. She picked up a latte on her way to her fathers house, letting herself inside.

Spooky greeted her at the door, meowing for attention. Her mother was outside by the pool so she headed outside, the cat hot on her trail.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were home. Dad asked me to grab some papers.”

Turned out her mother had an appointment and was on her so they made small talk until she was to leave. Her mother made her promise to come to dinner on Friday and she agreed. It was better than sitting alone in her house, eating takeout. And she hadn’t spent time with her parents lately.

The drive to base was short and she walked through security easily enough. Everyone knew who she was by now and it used to bother her when she was younger. Now she just smiled. Her father was a respected man and there was no reason to be embarrassed.

She bumped into Warlock outside her fathers office, smiling brightly at her.

“Hello dear, here to see your father?” She liked Warlock. He was kind and he often indulged in stories about her father while at school. And his stories about his own career always fascinated her as a child.

“He asked me to bring some papers he forgot. Is he in his office?” He nodded and wished her a good day before disappearing down the hall.

She knocked twice and waited. She didn’t want to disturb if he had someone in there with him. At his permission, she opened the door and walked inside, already reaching to give him the papers.

“Hi sweetheart, thanks for grabbing them.” He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, a rare smile on his face. Beau Simpson was mostly a stoic man but she had never doubted that he loved her.

“Hi. It’s no problem, I didn't have much else going on today.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice and her father noticed. He opened his mouth to say something but she beat him to it.

“I know dad. It just sucks, I can’t help it. You don’t know anything so you?” Beau smiled at his daughter.

“Honey even if I did, you know I can’t say.” She sank into the chair opposite him. Her phone hadn’t announced a message when she checked it and the disappointment grew.

“I know that it's difficult to get in touch but it’s our anniversary.” She wasn’t complaining, not really. The phone on her fathers desk interrupted Beau from answering her. She paid him no attention, opting to look out the window at the jets.

“Honey I just need to step away for a moment, you can stay if you’d like. I’ll be back in about a half hour.” She waved him off, hearing the faint rumble of the planes taking off in the distance.

She heard the door opening and answered without turning around.

“Admiral Simpson isn’t here, sorry.”

“Uh, that’s fine, we’re not here for him.” Bradley’s voice had her spinning in the chair, almost falling off it in her excitement.

Bradley and Jake stood in the doorway, bags hanging off their shoulders, matching smiles. She threw herself at them, a sob catching in her throat.

“You’re here.”

“Of course. Couldn’t let our girl spend our 2 year anniversary by herself.” Jake pressed a kiss to her head.

“You remembered?”

“Sweetheart, did you really think we forgot?” Bradley dropped his bag to the floor, taking a step back to observe her.

“Well..”

“Baby, no matter what, we’ll always be here for the important dates as often as possible. We promised, remember?”

Long ago, early in their relationship, both of them had promised that they would always try and be home for anniversaries and the like.

“Now stop your crying darlin’. How about we take you home and grab some lunch on the way?” Jake was still holding her, looking down with a smile on his face. She looked over at Brad and held out her hand. He stepped back into the embrace and she relaxed into their arms, happy to finally be together with them again.

“That sounds amazing.”

They had made that promise years ago, before they even became a serious item. But they had never forgotten. They always remembered.

#callsign-phoenix500 #hangster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fic #hangman x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x reader x hangman #fe writes

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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whiskey sour | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

disclaimer: this fic is my contribution to @callsign-phoenix 's 1K celebration! I had the prompt 'bradley sour' and figured I'd give a little slow burn fic a whirl! fun fact, I used to bartend - and my absolute favourite drink to make and devour was whiskey sours.

warnings: afab!reader, fem!reader, no use of y/n, pet names, slow burn, naval inaccuracies, bradley being a lil sad, mentions of alcohol - consuming and making alcoholic beverages.

description: you bartend at the hard deck to bradley's great content, until you don't anymore.

tagging: @roosterforme @theharddeck @mak-32 @hangmanbrainrot

word count: ~4K.

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“Pour 2 oz of whiskey or bourbon in to a shaker,”

It had been closer to 10 years now. 10 years of snippets of life shared with one of the best people you’d ever had the luck to meet. The first time your paths crossed, was your first shift as a bartender at the Hard Deck. A young man, who didn’t quite possess the confident stance he held nowadays, with a form that was a little slimmer, and a clean shaven face, walked into the bar. The first time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw was when he was first called to Top Gun, when he was only in his twenties.

He’d approached the bar on a slow day, and his hesitant way of asking for something to drink almost had you asking him for his ID. He’d been a bit unsure as you asked if he’d like a beer that you’d seen his mates getting earlier. Bradley had furrowed his brow, gently rubbing the tip of his nose, (something you now knew was a tell that he was hesitant or nervous) and he looked almost resolved to reluctantly telling you yes before you cut him off.

“Or, I could make you something else. Something a bit tastier than beer,” honestly, to this day, you’ll never know why you wanted to put him at ease. Why you wanted to please him, why you’d rather see a smile on his handsome face than a frown.

“Make me something else? You mean like a drink?” there was hesitance laced within those words. A small smirk was tugging on the corners of your lips, you were quite sure he was hesitant about bringing a drink back to his pals - afraid your version of a drink might hold a tiny umbrella and tonnes of fruit.

“Not to worry, sailor. I’ll make you something very classy. Manly, if you will,” he chuckled at your joke, feeling his shoulders relax a bit as you smiled at him. He didn’t correct you that time, and it took you quite a while to tell the difference between sailors, aviators and other personnel.

“What did you have in mind?” His voice was so soothing. A hint of a rasp, his tenor enticing you entirely. Before a flush of warmth could overtake your body you replied steadily;

“A whiskey sour of course. It’s sort of my specialty,” he nodded, smiling softly at you in affirmation of your choice, though he later told you he’d never had one before, but he didn’t want to tell you because he figured he’d embarrassed himself enough already.

“Add lemon juice to the shaker,”

That first whiskey sour had Bradley’s amber eyes widening, twinkling in delight at the taste. Your eager smile urged him to tell you how good it was, and how he appreciated you taking the time to make him one.

Approximately a week later he had come back, bashfully asking you to make “that drink” again, because he’d forgotten the name. You’d smiled broadly, and he’d backtracked a little saying he didn’t expect you to remember his order, the tips of his ears turning red. Reassuring him, you told him the name of the drink before making it a second time, out of many more to come.

Those weeks that Bradley was stationed in San Diego for Top Gun were some of your best in your twenties. Bradley had invited you to various beach hang outs with his friends, and the two of you formed a close friendship. You were the first one his eyes sought out as he entered the Hard Deck, every time he had the fortune to stroll inside.

“Add simple syrup to taste,”

When Bradley at long last was ordered to be stationed elsewhere, he visited you one last time, and you could hardly keep your tears at bay as he entered, saying that he’d be ordering his last whiskey sour from you for some time, his khaki uniform making him look rather handsome, his button-up short sleeved top hanging off his shoulders, the sleeves moving as he tipped the tumbler you’d placed in front of him to his plump lips.

“I’ll miss you, Bradley,” you’d confessed bashfully, and his wide smile had momentarily rendered you breathless.

“I’ll miss you too, sugar. I hope I’ll be able to come back soon to enjoy more of these,” he replied, smiling softly at you.

As it was, Bradley wouldn’t come back soon. It would be two years before he entered the Hard Deck again.

Truthfully, he half expected to see a random stranger behind his favorite bar. After all, he wouldn’t expect you to hang around for him or anyone else - surely you’d moved on to become something else, or took your bartending skills elsewhere. But to his great delight, as he opened the door to the bar, he could see your form behind the bartop. You were busy talking to a woman with black hair, polishing a glass with a rag before hanging it above your head. He smiled at the sight, warmth filling his stomach at the sight of you. You’d changed your hair color, and he couldn’t help but miss your original one - even though you looked beautiful either way.

As he took in your form, you looked up as the door closed behind him. Your beautiful face lit up with joy as you saw him, eyes filled with surprise and relief. It made Roosters' heart stutter, the way you lit up when you saw him. He hadn’t had anyone looking at him like that for many years.

“Rooster!” you were already leaning against the bartop, reaching for a shaker and a bottle of bourbon you knew he preferred his sours based on. You’d used Bradley to perfect your drink, and switched it up every so often to pick up what he preferred.

“Sugar,” he sighed happily, leaning against the bartop, drinking in your happy demeanor. “I’m very glad to find you here,” he confessed with that raspy tenor that you had missed so much.

“Where else would I be?” you smiled at him as you worked “I won’t be shipped out anytime soon,” Bradley chuckled at your joke, only feeling the slightest sting of hurt somewhere deep in his chest at your comment.

“You look good, sugar,” Bradley murmured, leaning closer to you over the bartop. Your movements stuttered momentarily, before you picked up a scoop of ice to add to the shaker. As you poured his drink over ice in a tumbler in silence, he wondered if he had overstepped some invisible boundary after not having seen you for 752 days.

“You’ve grown a mustache,” you replied, motioning to the sparse hair that he’d tried to grow out for a few months now. He chuckled and nodded “Quite right,” as you added some finishing touches; he soon held the tumbler in his hands, a sigh of contentment slipping past his lips as he tasted the perfect balance of sweet, sour and bourbon.

“Sugar, no one makes these like you. They taste awful in Lemoore,” he wrinkled his nose as he recalled a time he’d been out with his squadron in a pub off base, your face had popped up in his inebriated mind, and he’d found that he missed you, your conversations, and your delicious drinks. He’d ordered one in hopes of being enveloped by that comforting, warm and fuzzy feelings your drinks filled him with. However, he’d been met with a drink that had far too much sour in it, and the usage of a cheap whiskey had further made the drink taste like a cold shower more than the comfort he so yearned for.

That one night was the only Bradley could spare you before he disappeared again, leaving you at the Hard Deck to prepare drinks for other patrons. None of them invoking the feelings Bradley did in you.

“Carefully separate yolk and eggwhite, before adding the white to the shaker,”

Another 3 years passed. You’d entered a relationship during that time, though you were quite certain it wouldn’t last too long. You’d been enamored by their wit and easy-going nature - but as the relationship progressed, it had gotten increasingly obvious that this person had never had to lift a finger for themselves in their life. Which would be fine, if they did not expect you to do their every bidding. The pressure of constantly being at the beck and call of a partner, the pressure of making sure groceries were bought, the apartment cleaned, clothes washed and presents bought for friends and family, making sure rent was paid on time by working long hours at the Hard Deck - you were at the end of your rope.

Sometimes your thoughts would linger on the memories of Bradley. His lovely tenor, his easy manners and his natural charm. You missed seeing the bashful face that you had first encountered five years ago. And as you ended your short lived relationship, you couldn’t help but think of amber eyes.

“Dry shake the ingredients to work up a nice foam,”

Bradley wouldn’t exactly say he was especially lonely. He had friends that he loved to hang out with, his co-workers had at this point in time formed a tight knit squadron that had each other’s back at any point in time. He thrived in their company, feeding off of the energy of their happy smiles at his jokes and their general existence. However, when he closed the door to his dorm it all stopped. He was reminded that at the end of the day, he was awfully alone. No one to call if he had a rough day, no one to call for advice.

It made Bradley reflect upon the past couple of years, his fingers running slowly through his short curls. Sadly enough, there had only been one constant, one person who always greeted him with glittering eyes and a sunny smile. Always happy to see him, always ready with that shaker, already knowing what he was going to order. She always asked how he’d been, and genuinely seemed relieved to see him alive any time he walked into the Hard Deck. It always made him feel fuzzy and warm, but perhaps that was the liquor she supplied him. He hadn’t seen her in about four years now. Which meant that the first time he met her would be about six years ago. Furrowing his brows, he sat up straighter. It couldn’t have been six years already. And Bradley had never worked up the courage to ask her for her number, ask her on a date, or even ask if she wanted to grab a coffee just as friends outside of the Hard Deck. He felt ashamed. Why had he never thought to ask for your number? He was determined to get it, as he was about to be shipped off to San Diego for a brief period of time.

Bradley’s feet had barely gotten used to the San Diego soil before he rushed towards the bar. What if you weren’t there? The heavy door of the Hard Deck swung open, and he frantically looked around, trying to locate you. And there you were, half turned away from him as you tried to reach to change a lightbulb that had gone out.

“Sugar,” he sighed out, relief washing through his entire being as he drank in your appearance. You’d changed just slightly, the softness of youth slowly leaving you, as it had him too. He’d spent more time in the gym lately, to keep his aging body fit for flight. His khaki uniform now strained against his chest slightly, and there was no longer any room for the sleeves to move much. As his whispered nickname reached your ears, he could see you turn, see your surprised look morphe into a look of shock, of wonder, and ultimately of the greatest joy he’d seen.

“Rooster!” you laughed, and Bradley almost felt like crying hearing that lovely sound accompanying his callsign. Before he knew what was happening, you had hurried towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and embracing him hard. He’d only received a handful of hugs from you before this, but it had been so long. So, so long since he’d inhaled your sweet scent, seen the light in your eyes, witnessed how they lit up, been so long since he’d felt your body pressed tight against his chest.

“Sugar,” he murmured again, holding you close against him, swaying slightly back and forth before releasing you. As he looked down at you, he watched as your eyes roamed over him, taking in his slightly changed form.

“Rooster, you–” you paused, frowning slightly “Where did my Rooster go?” you hadn’t meant to sound so sad, but gone was your lankier Rooster, hair a little darker and mustache a little thinner. Now he was… big. There was no other word for it. His physique was impeccable, and his facial hair had finally thickened just to his liking. He was more tanned, and his hair lighter. It took your breath away.

“I’m right here, Sugar, I promise” Bradley smiled softly, not wanting you to be sad, but completely understanding your confusion at seeing him after so long.

“Are… are you staying long?” the tinge of hope in your voice broke his heart, and he had to avert his gaze to the floor to avoid being hit with your disappointment. His hand reached up to rub at the tip of his nose, brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Afraid not,” he replied solemnly, looking into your eyes again. He was surprised to find them soft, with an unreadable emotion swirling in their depths.

“Well then, I better start on that whiskey sour then?” you smiled, softly letting your fingers grace against his, gingerly grabbing ahold of two of his fingers to lead him to the bar.

Bradley smiled as he watched you flurry around the bar, hands instinctively grabbing bottles without looking at them - confident in your having sorted the bottles at the start of your shift, knowing where you’d put everything as you prepped, making sure it was all mise en place. You talked as you crafted his drink, telling him stories of what he’d missed in San Diego whilst he was gone. Bradley in turn updated you on his life as the evening came. After a couple of drinks, Rooster was enveloped in that warm fuzzy feeling that he had first gotten the moment your arms had enveloped his neck. He never wanted to leave this bar. Never wanted to leave you again.

“Sugar,” he mumbled as he noticed the time on his watch.

“Duty calls?” you replied sadly, offering him a weak smile as he rose. Should he ask you? Was it stupid of him to think you’d want to keep in touch with him as he was stationed elsewhere? Were you committed to someone else? Surely you were. But as he took in the sadness in your eyes, he noticed that one unreadable emotion again. He figured he had to try to hop off the perch.

“Could I… I mean, I miss you when I’m not here. And, well– if you wouldn’t mind of course,” fuck, he was rambling - but as he chanced a glance at your face, he saw nothing but softness, you didn’t seem annoyed, didn’t seem to mind that he was fumbling his words - as he paused, you smiled one of your comforting smiles and he soldiered on “Could I maybe have your number?” He finally managed to breathe out. The enormous grin that broke out on your face was almost reward enough for him, but as you scribbled your number on a piece of paper and gave it to him, he swore he could dance with joy.

“Can I give you a hug before you go, Bradley?” you whispered, and you blinked quickly to get rid of the burning sensation in your eyes. Roosters’ heart leapt, not only at the fact that you wanted to see him off with a hug, but also how his name rolled off of your lips so beautifully. His name. Not Rooster. Bradley. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, it had been a while since his name had been said with such care.

“Of course, Sugar. C’mere,” he murmured, opening his arms to envelop you in a long embrace, lips gently resting at the top of your head as he inhaled your sweet scent. And then he was gone. Again. This time hurt more than the others, you noted, as the dull ache of seeing Bradley leave again started up deep within your chest.

“When you’ve worked up a nice foam, add ice to the shaker and shake again”

The four years that passed since that exchange went by a little easier, perhaps because now you and Rooster texted, called and facetimed another. Not as frequently as you would like, but you understood that Rooster was busy advancing in his career, going on long missions where he didn’t have or wasn’t allowed cell service. He checked in with you when he could, and you made a point of only speaking of the good parts in your life. The funny stuff that happened at the Hard Deck, the new drink recipe you tried. You didn’t mention that you’d saved up enough to try your hand at an education, how tired you were all the time as your days were filled with lectures, seminars and studying - nights filled with drunk aviators and sailors, and somewhere in between you’d find some time to sleep.

As the tenth anniversary of meeting Rooster was coming up, you had finally graduated, and you were now three weeks away from leaving the Hard Deck to pursue the job of your dreams. You’d been thrilled that you’d found a position in San Diego, near the apartment you rented. Rooster had MIA from your texts for a while, and you figured that maybe he didn’t care too much for his bartender anymore. Perhaps he had finally found a better whiskey sour.

As you cut up limes and lemons, preparing for the Friday night ahead, Penny approached you with a smile, carrying a large box of new beers.

“Oh, is that the new IPAs?” you questioned with a smile, and Penny nodded in affirmative, “I’ve got them Pen, you’ve been working since this morning. Go take a break,” Penny gave you a thankful smile, before patting your shoulder affectionately and making her way out back.

As Penny left, you heard the front door open. Shit, usually the aviators and sailors were literate, and heeded the sign of the door that held your open hours.

“Hey, I’m sorry we haven’t opened yet,” you started, not looking away from your cutting board as you heard feet shuffle against the wooden floors.

“Not even for me, Sugar?” eyes snapping up, jaw slacking, you took in the form of Rooster. If it was possible, he’d gotten even broader. His jawline harder and sharper, arms and shoulder filling a hawaiian print button-up so nicely your breath hitched in your throat. It had been so long. You’d wanted him for so long. You weren’t sure you could handle him leaving you right away again. You wanted time. Time to spend with him. Tears burned in your eyes as you took in his form, and you could tell he felt slightly alarmed not to be greeted with your usual happiness. Wiping your tears, you plastered a grin onto your lips as his callsign rolled off your lips in a sigh.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Bradley murmured as you walked into his embrace, relaxing against his chest and reveling in his scent. A short laugh shook your frame as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, well - it might well be the last time you walk in here to see me behind the bar,” you shrugged, and Bradley stiffened in your arms, his eyes widening. “No,” he whispered, anguished almost that the only constant in his adult life would be leaving him. “You’re not leaving?” he asked, forgoing adding ‘me’ at the end of the sentence.Your soft smile didn’t placate him as it usually did, and he only found comfort as your palm rose to cradle his scarred cheek.

“I’m afraid so, Rooster.” you confirmed “I’ve been working towards a degree, and I graduated a while back. I’ve got three weeks left at the Hard Deck before I start my dream job,” Bradley’s head was spinning. How did he not know this? Sure, he had your number but you’d only told him of the fun shenanigans that you got up to at the bar. That was when it hit him that he never asked. He never asked for anything else. He wanted to cry and scream, pull his hair and kick himself hard. Why would he take your presence here for granted?

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d graduated? Sugar… I’m sorry I didn’t make it,” he was so confused, he barely knew what he was saying. He was spiraling, thoughts of how lonely he’d be after training at Top Gun again if you weren’t here spinning endlessly in his mind.

You were silent, taking in the haunted look that shone in Bradley’s amber eyes. A look you hadn’t seen before, and one you were sure you never wanted to see again.

“Bradley, I’m- I’m sorry,” you didn’t know what for, but it seemed to rouse Rooster “No, sweetheart… sugar, no. I just,” he trailed off. You smiled at his rambling, and noticed he’d reached up to rub his nose again - that got a giggle out of you and Rooster furrowed his brows before a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

“I’m not leaving you, Rooster,” you clarified “Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” you added “Now, will you be leaving me tomorrow?” your voice had gone almost hard, as if steeling yourself for the answer. Bradley shook his head.

“Nope. Stationed here for at least a month to train for a mission,” a gasp threatened to fly past your lips at the revelation. He’d be here. For four weeks. That’s the longest he’d stayed since that first time ten years ago.

“Well, then you’ll catch my last day,” you smiled at him, leaning in closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” Bradley blurted out as your thumb had started to gently caress his cheeks, that warm, fuzzy feeling overcoming him again. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured out that that feeling hadn’t come from the liquor you were serving him, it was just you.

“I’ve only been waiting ten years,” you smiled, clutching his shirt between your other hand. Bradley chuckled, his face inching closer to yours, his breath fanning over your face before his warm lips connected with yours. He felt like home, warm, inviting, comforting. Bradley sighed in content, tightening his hold on you, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“And serve over ice.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #callsign-phoenix’s-1k #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #my writing

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callsign-joyride · 7 months

Note

for fluffy fall fantasy, could you please do 3 w/ rooster and hangman? thanks!

Love of My Life | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw + Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: You go into labor during a dinner party that you and Bradley are hosting. Jake helps the two of you out.

Content warnings: Pregnancy, body insecurities, labor/childbirth, fluff

Prompt: Already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't

This was written for my Fluffy Fall Fantasy event. Feel free to send in requests!

Bradley wanted to have a dinner party with everyone before you had the baby. You were around two weeks away from your due date, so you were mostly at home resting before the baby came, anyway. He told you that he would take care of everything around the house so that you could continue to relax, something that you were thankful for. (The dinner party was his idea and you would’ve ripped his head off if he asked you to cook for ten people.) Maverick and Penny were the first to walk in, handing you a gift bag full of baby stuff because they were out of town during your baby shower. You had been experiencing mild contractions throughout the day, but you were so close to giving birth that you passed them off as Braxton-Hicks.

You sat at the dining table in between Bradley and Hangman and you felt huge. You didn’t eat at the table often since getting pregnant because you didn’t feel as big as you were if you sat on the couch with your dinner. As you ate, the contractions started to get stronger and closer together, but you didn’t want to change the pace of the night.

Fanboy and Payback said that they were going to get the fire pit going, and you told everyone that they could go and have fun even though you were going to bed. So, Hangman was surprised to see you loading and unloading the dishwasher at almost midnight.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be bending over like that,” he said as he took over doing the dishes for you.

“I think I’m in labor,” you softly whispered. It took a moment for it to register in his head as he turned to you with a look of shock on his face.

“What? For how long?”

You glanced at the clock on the microwave and looked back at him.

“I don’t know, but it’s been like four hours since my contractions started getting stronger and closer together.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“I don’t think that’s the point right now. Let me go get Bradley and-,”

“He’s had a couple beers and you’re having contractions. It’s okay, I can take both of you, but I’ll go and get him.”

“Well, there’s another problem with that. The car seat is in the Bronco and he barely even lets me drive that thing. God, I could kill him right now. All of this is just so fucking stupid. Obviously none of us knew that I’d be in labor but - oh shit.”

You felt something pop before hearing a gush, and fluid was running down your legs and on to the floor. Both of you looked down at the puddle that you were standing in and Jake rushed over to you.

“Um, fuck, I don’t know how to help you. Sit down on, like, a towel or something, I don’t know. I’m gonna go get Bradley.”

Jake left once you nodded your head and waddled over to the linen closet to grab a dark towel to sit on. You were so worried about ruining the furniture that you sat on one of the throw pillows after putting the towel over it, just to make sure that you wouldn’t get anything on the couch. You texted a few family members while waiting for Bradley and Jake to come back inside. Bradley gave you a hug and squeezed your hand before telling Jake what to do. He was going to get the hospital bag while Jake helped you into the passenger seat of the Bronco, and Bradley would sit in the back with the carseat and hospital bag.

“This is the only time I’m letting you drive the Bronco. Be gentle. And she gets to pick the music,” Bradley said as he gestured to you and Jake. You laughed, but that was immediately followed by a groan from how much pain you were in. The hospital that you planned to have the baby at was fifteen minutes away, but it felt like it was taking an eternity to get there.

Both of them walked you into the hospital, with Jake giving your hand a tight squeeze as you were filling out the paperwork to get checked in. Once you got into the room, Jake was told to wait outside while the nurses gave you what you needed. Eventually, Jake’s options were to wait in the lobby or go home, but he had left his car at the home that you and Bradley shared, so he decided to wait in the lobby until the rest of the Dagger Squad showed up. Everyone came and went periodically as they waited to hear about if you had the baby or not. Bradley was sending updates to the groupchat since he didn’t want to leave you, even though you were starting to get the urge to punch him with how annoying he was being.

Things got to a point where Bradley decided to send everyone except for Maverick home. You weren’t really progressing and the nurses couldn’t tell when you were going to actually have the baby. Bradley eventually sent him home, too, saying that Mav would be the first to know when you had the baby. The decision was one that you were thankful for, as it took more than a day for you to have the baby.

You were able to leave the hospital a few days after having the baby. Everyone was still congratulating you and Bradley across social media platforms, but you didn’t really mind. The baby cooed in your arms as Bradley opened the front door to the house, deciding that he would park his Bronco in the garage at a different time.

There was a “welcome home” banner hanging when you walked in, and snacks were on the kitchen counter. Everyone slowly came out of their hiding spots as to not startle you or the baby, and your eyes lit up with glee when they all walked over to you to look at the baby. Everyone, even Hangman, thought that the baby was the cutest thing they had ever seen. He looked more like Bradley than you, which didn’t really surprise anyone that much because Bradley looked just like Goose.

“Jake, I can’t thank you enough for helping us the other day. You really didn’t have to but it means a lot.”

“He did it because he wanted you to name the baby after him!” Fanboy yelled from across the room. The baby started crying and everyone glared at him for ruining the moment.

“As much as we appreciate it, man, I’m never letting her name our baby after you,” Bradley told Jake. You laughed as Phoenix guided you to the kitchen for some snacks that everyone was sure you needed after being in the hospital for days.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #x reader #top gun maverick #reader insert #top gun #hangman fluff #callsign joyride's fluffy fall fantasy #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

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crinkled-emotions · 4 months

Text

Day 25: Secret Santa

Hi hi! This one, again, would have made... so much more sense... had I published on Dec 25th 😂

Ship: Hangster (I'm in such a Hangster mood rn please disregard)

The original prompt:

Maverick finished cutting and folding paper then tossed them into his helmet, opening the airstream door and calling out to the Daggers who were floating around the hangar. Hangman, Bob, Payback and Rooster were lying on Maverick’s couches in front of his TV, squabbling about a football game. Phoenix and Coyote were playing table tennis and Fanboy was on a running commentary, earning an eyeroll from the other two. Rooster glanced up from where he was sitting on the floor between Bob’s legs, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s up, Mav?”

“Come grab a piece of paper each; the name you draw is who you’re buying for this year’s Secret Santa.”

“Hangman if I draw your name know you’re not getting anything,” Phoenix said as she climbed over the back of the couch between Bob and Payback, the first one to grab a name from the hat... helmet.

“Please tell me that’s not the one you’re using at the moment,” Rooster complained to Maverick as he reached up to grab one himself.

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

“Phoenix if I get you, I’m getting you tickets to the next Longhorns game,” Hangman said as he accidentally tripped over Rooster who was back on the floor after grabbing his paper.

“Getting yourself tickets to the next Longhorns game,” Bob muttered. Hangman smirked.

“Why not, right?”

“Just when I thought you’d changed, Bagman,” Phoenix sighed as she flopped into a spot on the couch. Once everyone had their piece of paper Maverick shooed them off to go back to causing chaos in the rest of the hangar. With everyone else distracted, Rooster opened his paper for a second time and winced. He stood, touching Maverick’s arm in passing.

“Hey, I forgot; I have PT first thing tomorrow morning. I’m gonna head back now and get some sleep beforehand. It’s been great out here this week, thanks Mav.”

Maverick regarded him for a moment, then smiled at him.

“Back still giving you trouble?”

“It never got better after I ejected, but PT helps.”

“That’s good, kid. Keep up with it. Let me know when you get home, yeah?”

“Gotcha.”

Maverick gave him a quick hug and Rooster went over to the rest of the Daggers to let them know he was heading out, earning a groan from Phoenix and a look from Hangman. If anyone could tell he was bullshitting, it was probably those two.

“You good, man?” Coyote asked. He was also so very perceptive when it came to bullshit.

“Fine, it’s just- y’know, I don’t really want to miss PT if it’s the only thing that helps my back, especially because I can’t do my usual gym routine at the moment.”

“Ah, gotcha. Okay man, we’ll probably see you later, we’re all thinking of going out for dinner sometime next week if you’re down?”

“Only if you’re paying, Javy,” Rooster grinned. The two bumped shoulders in good jest then Phoenix gave him a hug.

“Call me if you want to talk about it,” she said subtly as she pulled away.

“Thanks, Tash.”

With that he waved goodbye to the others and got into the Bronco, starting the engine and letting it warm up whilst he connected his phone to the new Bluetooth system he’d managed to connect about a month ago. He took a deep breath, glancing toward the others who were still having fun in the hangar and wondered if they’d figured out what was going on.

“That was weird, right?”

Phoenix hummed when Hangman appeared at her side, lining up her next shot on the pool table.

“You and I both know he freezes like that for no reason sometimes. He’d say something if it was serious-“

“-Trace.”

Hangman sent her a look and Phoenix cleared her throat.

“You’re right, that’s wishful thinking. We both know he doesn’t have PT for another week so what made him run for the hills?”

“The threat of commitment?” Hangman suggested, earning a pool cue to the gut. She continued to be a good shot, apparently. The pair glanced up when the airstream door opened and Maverick quietly slipped inside. They exchanged a look, and Phoenix reached for her phone.

“I don’t think they had a fight, we would’ve heard it, but I’m just gonna make sure he’s okay,” she muttered as she typed out a text. Hangman hummed.

“I’ll go see if I can get it out of Mav. He doesn’t go quiet unless it’s to do with a Bradshaw.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Phoenix pleaded. She went back to her pool game and Hangman approached Coyote and Bob.

“Hey, did either of you see when Mav’s mood changed?”

“As far as I’m aware it didn’t-“

“-when we all checked who we had for Secret Santa.”

Coyote was quick to dismiss it but Bob’s wallflower personality had the gossip Hangman needed. He was quick to ruffle Bob’s perfectly styled hair, glancing over his shoulder.

“Hey Phoenix, I got it!”

Phoenix: did you fight with Mav? (sent: 1:32pm)

Rooster: no? (sent: 6:30pm)

Rooster: what would make you think that? (sent: 6:31pm)

Phoenix: you pretty much ran out of the hangar and you’re not a runner anymore (sent: 6:32pm)

Rooster: look (sent: 6:35pm)

Rooster: it’s nothing (sent: 6:35pm)

Phoenix: you drove the 4 hours back to San Diego for no reason (sent: 6:40pm)

Rooster: do we really have to do this? I have PT (sent: 6:45pm)

Phoenix: bullshit (sent: 6:46pm)

Phoenix: if it’s not a big deal you would have already dealt with it (sent: 6:47pm)

Rooster: seriously Tash it’s nothing (sent: 6:48pm)

Phoenix: fine (sent: 7pm)

Phoenix: but I’m here if you want to get it off your chest (sent: 7:01pm)

Rooster: I know (sent: 7:02pm)

Rooster: but thanks (sent: 7:03pm)

Phoenix: I got your back (sent: 7:04pm)

Hangman had let Maverick go for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, but after dinner and a couple beers he sidled over and flopped onto the couch beside him.

“So; you and Roos have a fight?”

“No...?”

“Just checkin’, he left like his tail was on fire.”

“He’s your boyfriend isn’t he?” Maverick replied, an eyebrow raised. Hangman cleared his throat.

“Don’t change the subject, sir. Something changed when we did the Secret Santa draw; is everything okay?”

“You don’t give up, do you?” Maverick sighed, “but fine, as long as you don’t tell him.”

He reached into his pocket, offering the piece of paper he’d drawn last. Hangman opened it and whistled.

“You got something in mind?”

“Maybe. It’s... I dunno, it’s probably stupid, but-“

“-it won’t be stupid, and you’re not gonna piss him off. He’s come a long way since the Dagger mission, Mav, don’t worry about that.”

Maverick hummed, but his gaze remained on his lap. Hangman gently bumped his shoulder.

“If it helps, I’ll go and check on him tomorrow. I was thinking of heading back anyway, leave isn’t super long this time and I have to do a couple things before they torture me on base.”

That earned a chuckle and Hangman took it as a win.

Rooster wasn’t entirely surprised to find Hangman in his kitchen when he came back from his morning run, making what looked like coffee and breakfast. They shared a gentle kiss against the counter, Hangman offering the cup of liquid gold he was drinking to his partner.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” He started. Rooster shook his head.

“I need a shower first.”

Hangman frowned but he slowly nodded.

“Okay; go shower and then we’re going to talk. No slipping out a window, yeah? We’re too old for that shit.”

Rooster snorted, pressing a kiss to his lips before heading upstairs. Hangman sighed.

Hangman: he’s being cagey (sent: 8:45am)

Phoenix: duh (sent: 8:46am)

When Rooster returned, freshly showered and ready for the day, he took the plate offered and the couple went to the dining table. Whilst they ate they made light conversation, planning out what they wanted to do over the next couple of days other than a date night and making out on Rooster’s couch. Their plates quickly became empty and Hangman took Rooster by the hand.

“Babe,” he started softly, “tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Despite popular belief, Hangman wasn’t a pet names guy, he leaned more toward nicknames and variations of callsigns; the way he said babe told Rooster he was serious. Rooster’s gaze fell to the dining table, spotting various stains on the tabletop.

“It’s dumb,” he muttered. Hangman squeezed his hand.

“Probably, but I want to hear it anyway.”

“I got Mav for the Secret Santa. I knew there was a chance, I just didn’t think it would happen. There’s six other names I could have drawn, y’know?”

“That makes sense. You worried about it not being good enough for him?”

“It’s our first Christmas after coming back together; I think I broke his heart last year when I told him you and me were going to Australia for Christmas so I wouldn’t be around. I just want it to mean something.”

Hangman’s brows furrowed.

“I didn’t know he’d offered to have you last Christmas, but it makes sense now. You were unhinged in Australia, honey.”

Rooster snorted. When Hangman stood to approach him he instinctively opened his arms to let him into his space.

“Look, there’s a couple things you need to remember; one, I love you. Two, Mav adores you. Three, you could give him a plain white mug and he’d still treasure it because it came from you, B. He doesn’t care about what he gets, just that you’re there.”

Rooster hummed.

“You know this is why I keep you around, right?”

“Oh; so it’s not the great sex?”

“That too.”

Christmas Day rolled around and the Daggers plus Penny and Amelia gathered at the hangar, sharing a meal and playing football on the tarmac. Amelia had quickly integrated herself into the group of adults around her; as much as Penny was a great mom Amelia found that she also liked talking to Phoenix, a great role model for younger girls like her. Penny and Maverick sat back to watch them hand in hand, exchanging a fond look when Bob tackled Payback and everyone cheered for him.

“He’s come a long way,” Penny said. Maverick hummed.

“It shows in the air, too. He’s always had confidence in the air but it’s only grown-“

“-oh, no, I was talking about Rooster.”

Maverick’s gaze tracked around the group, finding his godson with his boyfriend. Amelia approached them and Rooster smiled at her, leaving Hangman’s side to listen to what she had to say.

“I’d say he’s finally found peace,” Maverick agreed. Penny squeezed his hand.

“Have you?”

“Who knows.”

Amelia came running to the two adults, tugging at Maverick’s hand.

“C’mon, Rooster wants to do Secret Santa.”

“Oh, does he?” Penny teased, exchanging a look with her partner. Maverick hefted himself out of his seat.

“We better not keep him waiting. Go round up the others, Amelia.”

She took off to the others, yelling for them. Penny bumped Maverick’s shoulder.

“Do you want to tell me why you’ve been so cagey lately?”

“Me? Cagey? Just trying not to get myself sent to another foreign country, Penny,” he replied. She gave him the look, the same one he’d just seen Hangman give Rooster, and winced.

“I got Rooster for Secret Santa and I’m a little worried about what I got him.”

“You’re worried he’s going to throw another temper tantrum? I really don’t think he’s got it in him anymore, honey.”

“I know... I think. I don’t want to risk it.”

“Okay, well, Hangman’s here, Phoenix is here, I’m here. We’re not going to let him ruin Christmas if that what he feels he needs to do.”

Penny squeezed his hand and they went to join the others who had gathered around the Christmas tree toward the back of the hangar.

“Phoenix.”

“Thanks, Amelia.”

Phoenix took the wrapped present from the younger girl, watching her hand the rest of them around. Rooster’s came as a wrapped large box, whilst Maverick’s was flatter but more rectangular. The others tore into theirs but it took a minute for Rooster and Maverick to pull off the paper. Rooster was the first to pop open his box and he immediately tossed the box on to Hangman’s lap to give Maverick a hug.

“I didn’t know you kept it,” he muttered. Maverick breathed a sigh.

“I found it last week, thought you might want it back.”

“What is it?” Phoenix asked Hangman, who reached into the box and produced a tiny airplane toy. When Rooster returned to his side he took the toy back, keeping it close to him. Hangman frowned but chose not to question it at that moment, instead flipping open the envelope he’d been handed.

“Oh, would you look at that! Longhorns tickets. I wonder who did that?” He said in a way that told everyone exactly what had happened.

“How the fuck did you draw yourself?” Bob groaned at the same time the others laughed. Hangman smirked.

“I’m just that good, Baby on board. I’m so good, in fact, that Rooster-“

“-open yours, Mav, before I have to cover Amelia’s ears,” Phoenix pleaded. Maverick gently opened the box and his eyes softened.

“All these years I thought I’d lost it. Where did you find it?”

At first the team assumed he was talking to Penny, but Rooster was the one to speak up.

“A couple weeks ago, I was cleaning out the Bronco and I found it wedged in a really weird spot. Never noticed it before, thought you might want it back.

“Guys, being mysterious is fun when you’re not pushing sixty,” Amelia groaned. Penny gently swatted her arm whilst the others laughed. Maverick rolled his eyes, holding up what looked like a keyring that had seen better days.

“I bought this when Bradley was born. I don’t believe in luck but this thing went everywhere with me and it kept me safe. The one time I didn’t have it, well... we lost Goose that day and I searched for it every day after. I had no idea it was in that damn truck of his.”

The others went quiet, Hangman reaching subtly for Rooster’s hand between them. Finally, Rooster cleared his throat.

“You never told me that.”

“I know, kid.”

“Is that Tasmania?” Phoenix blurted, standing from her seat and gesturing vaguely toward the desert outside the hangar doors.

“What does that even- oh. Yeah, goddamn, that looks like it! C’mon guys.”

Hangman followed along, gesturing with a (not) subtle head tilt toward the hangar doors. Everyone but Maverick and Rooster made a swift exit, giving them a moment to themselves.

“I’m really glad you could be here this year, Bradley. I’m not upset about Australia, you do know that right?”

“It’s good to hear it,” Rooster confessed. Maverick hummed.

“Let’s start fresh in the new year, huh? Stop running and try talking?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They shared a look, then laughed.

“I can’t believe you still had it,” Rooster muttered.

“Always. Thought you might want it back, give it to your kids some day.”

“This is a real cockblock, Roos. I’m trying to get laid and you’re staring at that toy?”

“Shush, Jake.”

Rooster lifted the toy to the tent light, showing a crack in one of the wings. Hangman huffed, making himself comfortable against Rooster’s shoulder and sending him a look.

“Why are you so hooked on that toy?”

“My mom said it was the last thing I got from my dad. We went to see him and Mav at TOPGUN and it was only a couple days later that he...”

Rooster cleared his throat.

“You know the story.”

“Wow... what’s the crack in the wing from?”

“I cried for, like, three hours. I was playing with it in the park and some older kid took it, stepped on it, then called me a baby. I was six. It took Mav and mom about an hour to fix it, but when they went to give it back to me I was hiding under Mav’s leather jacket and sobbing. Apparently the crying stopped the second I had it back.”

Hangman laughed, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips.

“That’s adorable; I’ll be telling Phoenix that one later.”

Rooster hummed, finally tucking the toy into his backpack and using his body weight to flip them.

“Sorry, you said something about getting laid?”

“Tell me more,” Hangman grinned.

#G's Dec 2023 Prompts!#Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #Natasha Phoenix Trace #Natasha Trace #Phoenix #Callsign: Phoenix #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin #Hangman #Callsign: Hangman #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Pete Mitchell #Maverick #Callsign: Maverick #Hangster #hurt/comfort

26 notes · View notes

notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

Note

My darling! For your fluff prompts, may I request "29. kisses in which, we've already said goodbye for the day but i can't help stealing another one" with rooster??? That one seems so perfect for him, please and thank you! (And no pressure to write this of you're not feeling it) 💜🌿

PROMPT: 29. kisses in which, we've already said goodbye for the day but i can't help stealing another one

thank you for this, my love, hope you enjoy xx

"You gotta go. You're going to get a reputation for your tardiness," you managed to sputter out, Rooster's lips on your pulse so distracting you were struggling with the words. Your fingers were lost in the short wisps of hair at the nape of his strong neck, not encouraging him at keeping his ministrations up in the slightest.

"Too late," he admitted.

"Bradley," you warned, but it certainly seemed more like a moan as he chuckled into your skin and pulled his hands away.

"Okay, okay," he left a single kiss on your lips as he pried himself away from you. "I'll go, but only because it's my duty. I'd much rather continue lovin' on you," he stood to his height, adjusting his uniform. He was such a mess, you giggled behind your hand. Thoroughly debauched, he was never sexier.

"Have a good day, and stay safe," you said, ready to roll over and go back to sleep. "Love you."

"Love you, sweetheart," he wandered out, the bed calling him - he wasn't tired, just wanted to stay as close to you as possible. He closed the bedroom door after him quietly and moved to the bathroom, giving himself the once over and running his long fingers through his unruly sunkissed wavy hair in pretence to try and look put together. His cheeks flushed, the pull to the bedroom weighing on him. Why would he want to sit in seminars and lectures in not stay in bed with you? It was a daily struggle.

Forcing himself to the kitchen, he poured his coffee from your coffee machine that did the fancy things but all he needed was black to wake himself up and get a move on. Keys, sunglasses, wallet, bag, he truly would never be a morning person, and this morning proved it.

How else did he get his callsign?

At least you made his mornings a little kinder, he always walked in with a grin after waking up beside you. He tossed his gear in the passenger side and pulled himself into the driver's seat, key toying with the engine, tapping the ignition, a slight irritation coming to him as he stared at the villa before him. And before he knew it, he was out of the Bronco, unlocked the house and coming back to the bedroom where you’d rolled into his pillow and snuggled in, back to sleep. Gentle and quiet, he was desperate to cuddle in with you. He eased himself to your side of the bed, tenderly brushing your hair from your face.

“You were supposed to be on your way by now, Bradshaw. You’ve got 200 push-ups in your plans this afternoon,” you mumbled as he chuckled and you slowly opened your eyes again. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” he admitted, giving you one more light kiss. “I love you. Just wanted to let you know,” he begrudgingly got to his feet as you made grabby hands for him.

“Don’t leave,” you begged as he chuckled and dashed back to the bed to love on you some more. Push-ups be damned, his shoulders and biceps had never looked better. He’d suffer through the long afternoon if it meant another few minutes kissing you.

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster drabble #domestic!rooster drabble #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #ftr I don’t believe what I wrote about his callsign

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enthyrea · 9 months

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finally posting my previews and spotlight for the wonderful @topgunzine!!

it was an absolute joy working on my two pieces.

check out the shop, preorders close at the end of july!!!

#enthyrea art #top gun zine #top gun #top gun maverick #callsigns #tgm #top gun 1986 #tgm fanart #top gun fanart #tg86 fanart #pete maverick mitchell #carole bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #bernie hondo coleman #bradley rooster bradshaw

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

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The Monster You Created

“You corrupted her soul, what else did you expect”

🍒 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Callsign Cherry Masterlist

🍒 Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/N 'Cherry' Bishop, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Y/n 'Cherry' Bishop

🍒 Word Count: 4.3 k

🍒 Warnings: Parental death, sexism, asshole Jake and Bradley, jokes about them being together, swearing, breach of trust, talk of virginity loss, loss of friendship (and love...), angst, AS (asshole pilot), protective Bob, mourning

🍒 A/n: Here we go, let me know what you guys think. Bobby has made become an unexpected important appearance and he's staying.

🍒 Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

Your nails drum against the steering wheel as you drive, and the saltwater breeze fills the air surrounding you. You had just recently taken the top off your jeep and the warm summer weather did wonders for your skin. The sunglasses that rest on the bridge of your nose dim the blinding light of the sunset, though as you pull into the Hard Deck you lower them to take in the beachside bar.

Receiving the call back to Top Gun came as somewhat of a surprise, though you had heard through the chain line that there was a new mission brewing. It was the luck that came with having good connections in the Navy, not just because of your late father, but because you had also made quite a name for yourself in the past ten years.

You slip from the cherry red jeep that matches your nails and the short red and white polka-dotted dress swings against your thighs, barely covering your backside. You reach up to run your hands through your hair, effectively releasing the knots from the drive. Your keys swing on your finger as you make your way into the bar, and your eyes catch sight of an all too familiar bronco sitting in the lot.

You slip through the doors and the momentary blast of cool air is quickly ridden from you and exchanged for the overly stuffy heat in the overpacked bar. You catch a few eyes, service men that think you’re going to be their willing prey for the night. A small teasing smile rests on your lips and you may or may not innocently bat your eyes at them. Though you don’t stay in one place long enough for them to make a move towards you.

The simple, yet intimidating stride you take toward the bar has patrons moving out of your way and the click of your heels seems to gain the attention of the entire bar. You can feel the different sets of eyes watching you and though you used to mind all of the attention and shy away from it. Now you reveled in it, it came with the persona and built a sturdy barrier that no one was able to cross.

Your eye’s find Penny as she gives you a small smile, while you lean up against the bar top and give her a genuine smile. Penny had been in your life long before Top Gun when your parents were still alive, and she had essentially become the aunt you never had.

“God, Italy did you good.” Her eyes move up and down your form before she motions you to do a small turn, with her finger.

“Could have been the weather, culture, maybe the food.” Your hands rest on the bar, and you lean into her. “But it’s probably because of the men.”

She gives you a full laugh, with her head thrown back, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“We missed you.” The words are muttered quietly and you give her a squeeze back in answer before she is pulling away and getting you a drink. The words make your gut twist and causes your heel to tap away. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss Penny and Amelia, it was just too hard being back. Driving down the street you once walked and seeing things that reminded you of everything you lost.

You can feel the stare as it burns a hole in the back of your head, and while you had only seen Rooster’s bronco, you were sure Hangman had gotten the call back as well. Your focus is taken from Penny as a figure slides up to the bar top next to you, their hand just barely ghosting against your waist, but enough to get you to turn around in question.

“You’re even prettier up close.”

Your eyes nearly see the back of your head as they roll, but you notice the khaki uniform and decide to play. Your hand falls to his that’s resting on the bar and a small giggle emits from your chest, as you give him a teasing smile.

He tells you his callsign and then explains that he’s a pilot, all while you maintain innocence and act completely oblivious to the military world. A glass slides into your hand, the amber liquid sloshing and you give Penny a quiet thank you, before winking.

“Put it on my tab, honey.”

Penny looks between the two of you, before giving the guy a smirk and a nod. You hid behind your glass, eyes peeking over the rim as you smile, then take a small sip of the whiskey. You would laugh at the poor guy and how he was completely oblivious to who you were, but the free drink was incentive enough to not spoil his night quite yet.

“So, you’re a fighter pilot,” Your voice is breathy, and the smile he gives you doesn’t hide the thoughts that are already racing through his mind. “Have you ever had to shoot anyone down?”

The question seems innocent enough and the gentle tilt of your head in wonder has the guy’s hand coming to rest at your hip.

“I’ve had many close calls, honey.” His hand slightly grabs at the material of your dress. “But there are only two active pilots with air-to-air kills.”

You hum in acknowledgment, which has him continuing as you take another drink. You tune out for a moment when you catch movement to the right of you, but you don’t risk the turn around to see who is making their way toward you. The use of your callsign has your attention on the pilot, and the look you give him has him repeating for you.

“Hangman and Cherry, only pilots that have air-to-air kills. Hangman’s got one under his belt, he’s actually a good friend of mine.” You almost laugh at the desperation seeping off him, you know damn well that he doesn’t know Jake and it’s only a last-stitched effort to get in your pants. “What about, Cherry?”

“She’s got two, lucky kills though.” The words make you glare slightly at the man, but he’s too consumed in himself to even notice. “She’s also the resident bitch of the Navy.”

You knew what people that didn’t know you, said about you. The name was no surprise, but that didn’t make you any less pissy at the term. Though before you can say something, the movement from your right comes into view and the smell of sandalwood consumes your senses.

A hand slips around your waist and effectively pushes the pilot’s hand from your hip. You breathe in the scent and your beating heart calms at the new presence. The familiarity has you leaning farther into the body, now encasing you to the bar. Your eye’s leave the pilot's face, who is already glaring to the side of you, and find a pair of deep blue eyes watching you.

“Hi, Bobby.”

You give him a delicate smile, one that very few people ever saw, before lifting your hand to adjust the frames that rest on the bridge of his nose. A gentle kiss is placed on your temple before Bob pulls away and looks at the pilot then back to you.

“What are you doing, Cher?”

“Just playing.”

The words are easy as they slip off your lips and have Bob laughing, while the other pilot stares at you in silence. He had witnessed you “play” with cocky pilots on more than one occasion and while it was all a game to you, he didn’t trust any pilot whose ego you bruised.

You grasp the glass of whiskey from the counter, noticing that Penny topped you off, before shooting it like a shot. Your eyes remain on the pilot, as a small dribble of the liquor falls from your lips. Bob moves without thinking, as his thumb swipes across your bottom lip to catch it. Though before he can pull away, your lips wrap around his thumb and suck the amber liquid right off.

The action makes Bob roll his eyes, over the seven-year friendship he had become used to your antics and knew you better than almost everyone. When you first meet the pair of you had become instant friends, about 4 months into the friendship on a drunken night, the pair of you had decided to see just how compatible you were. Neither of you could keep a straight face and the night of “debauchery,” turned into a night of horror moves cuddling after the ultimate failure of making out.

The pilot watches you in silent shock, as you pat his shoulder once and give him a smirk. Your form pushes off the bar, clutching Bobby’s hand and tugging him with you. Though before you can get far you turn back around, looking past Bobby’s smirking face to see the man not only stunned but mad. Just like those old cartoons, waiting for the steam to release from his ears.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Cherry. The resident bitch of the United States Navy.”

...

Bob pulls you forward and tugs you toward the bathroom hallway, before stopping in a corner. Your body settles against the wall, though Bob’s arms are quick to wrap around you and pull you into a tight hug. You clutch onto the back of his shirt and relax knowing that you wouldn’t be facing anything alone. Not tonight or during the next 6 weeks.

“When did you get back?”

The words are muffled against your neck, but you hear them clear as day.

“About 40 hours ago.” Your voice is teasing, though the small hitch at the end tells Bob just how tired you are.

“If you would have told me you were coming, we could have driven down together Cher.”

“I know.” You nod gently before your head falls back to rest against the wall. “I just needed the time. They say it gets easier with time, but every time I come back it feels like I’m still that little girl. Losing the only life I knew and getting shipped off to Texas. It wasn’t just my parents who died, the person I was, my life, died too.” A shuttered breath courses through your body, and your hand tightens around Bob's. The tightening in your throat only grows and has you pushing out a forced laugh, anything to change the current topic of interest. “Plus, Adams told me a little bit about the detachment and said that they might be here, which was correct according to the bronco sitting in the lot.”

“Yeah, I just had the pleasure of meeting them. Rooster doesn’t seem horrible and well Hangman, he’s just like you described.” Your eyes roll and any form of smile falls from your face. “Come on, Cher. It’s been ten years.”

Your hand reaches up to spin the pendant on your necklace, a nervous habit that you had picked up. Though your fingers are stilled, as Bob reaches up and grasps onto your hand bring it down to relax by your side.

“Ten years, that I’ve spent making sure that I am better than them in every way, Bobby.”

Your eyes move from Bob and settle on the wall opposite of you, at the flash of disappointment in his eyes. A deep sigh emits from his chest, and your head tips back to lean against the wall behind you, staring that the wood-beamed ceiling.

You hate disappointing Bob, he was like your big brother, but he also knew the full story and couldn’t blame you for the hate you still carried for the pair. The story of your callsign followed you around, it wasn’t like it died after leaving the academy. No, everywhere you went at least one guy brought your virginity.

“I’ll play nice, but the minute either of them say something,” a heavy sigh leaves your lips, and Bob's hand gently squeezes your hand in reassurance. Your head dips back down and your eyes sweep to his, to find only love and support. You give him a small squeeze back and a tiny smile, that was only for his comfort. Before vacantly muttering the words, “I will burn them to the fucking ground, Robert.”

A deep sigh leaves his chest, though before he can say anything you’re turning. You had enough of him playing the disappointed older brother and just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t seen him for 8 months and knew that the both of you had lots to catch up on.

A squeeze and a smirk are all you give him before you’re heading back down the hall and out into the bar. You can feel him trailing behind you, though you don’t slow. Your back straightens and the pace in your step quickens slightly, as you round the corner and catch sight of the all too familiar dirty blonde hair.

You make a bee-line for the pool tables, knowing that ripping off the band-aid would be far easier. Then standing around anxiously all night, waiting for one of them to show up. You side-stepping the guy from the bar, who had somehow magically found a home for the night at a table opposite of the pool tables. His hand reaches out again trying to grab at your sundress, and the small tug on it has you halting.

You pause momentarily still looking towards the pool tables and before you can turn around, your eyes find a pair of green ones. You both hold each other’s gaze and for a moment you think that you see a flash of pain and longing, but as quick as it appeared it disappears. You break the stare before anyone can notice and turn to be met with the smiling fool.

“Now sweetheart, it wasn’t very nice of you to run off like you did. Especially, since I bought you that drink.”

You glance down and find his hand at the hem of your dress, just barely grazing your thighs.

“Get your hands off of me, before I make you.”

The threat may appear minuscule, given the fact that you are all dolled up and in heels. Though the tone of your voice is anything but, and before Bob can move to remove the hand for you, you hold up one finger stopping him. The asshole only laughs at you, before standing and taking a step closer to you.

“Your callsign’s Cherry, right?”

A silent hum emits from your chest, and any patience you had are wearing extremely thin. Before you know it, a harsh hand smacks your ass. The sound echoes through the bar and you’re sure that you could have heard a dime drop. There’s movement behind you but you don’t pay them or Bob any mind, as said hand grasps onto your backside under your dress.

“Why don’t you refresh my memory of how you got your callsign.”

The words are barely past his lips before you lean back to throw a fist. It lands smack dab, in the middle of the asshole's face and the loud crack can only be presumed as his nose breaking. Bob is quick to step up between the group of friends as they make a move toward you, and distantly you can hear the ringing of a bell. Though your only focus is the asshole in front of you, who is now bent over clutching his nose as blood drips onto the hardwood floors.

Your dress sways as you move and you're positive that whoever is behind could easily see the thong under your dress if they really wanted. Your hair falls around your face as you lean into the man, getting as close as you can without actually touching him.

“You touch me again, and you’ll learn exactly how I got those two kills.”

You right your form and brush your dress down the side, before smiling back at Bob and holding out a single hand for him to grab.

“Come on Bobby, I feel like kicking your ass at pool tonight.”

A single shake of the head, followed by a deep sigh has Bob grabbing your hand as you pull him around the bloody mess. You easily spin around, to be met with a wall of khaki uniforms. You recognize three of the six faces, though the only ones you give a smile are the three unknown pilots and Javy. You can feel the way that their eyes burn into the side of your head, but you simply ignore them. Bobby asked you to play nice and you would until you couldn’t that is.

Your gaze settles on Javy, the only known pilot you were willing to make eye contact with. He gives you a small smile, which you return before you make your way to him.

“Coyote”

“Cherry”

Short, to the point, exactly what you needed right now. Your free hand raises to gently pat at his chest before you nod behind him. He side-steps for you, neither of you needing to tell the other where you wanted.

Pool was one of the many things that you and Jake shared a love for. Most of your childhood and teen years were spent in the Serein house playing pool and like Jake, Javy knew that pool was your go-to stress relief. It also helped that you were excellent at it and didn’t mind showing off.

The way he steps, if you could even call it a step, makes it so you have to squeeze past Jake and the cheeky grin that Coyote gives you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You look back behind you to see Bob talking with the three other pilots you didn’t know, two guys and one girl. The three seemed decent enough, like people that you might eventually trust. You gently tug the hand resting in yours to gain his attention, and you give the three pilots another smile before you move for the pool tables.

The hole between Javy and Jake seems to have grown smaller in the last minute, and you catch slightly as you go to push passed them. Your eyes rest towards the floor and all you can see are a pair of fucking boots with a pool stick settled in between them. Your jaw clicks and you realize just how much Jake wants to push you. Your eyes slowly rise, moving passed the well-fitted uniform and ignoring just how much he hadn’t changed. Including that arrogant smirk, that your eyes stop on momentarily before finding his.

You can’t bring yourself to break eye contact, sure you had seen Jake from a distance in the last ten years. But now, seeing him up close, seeing the emerald eye’s that once held your heart, a deep thrumming ache settles in your chest. Either of you makes an effort to move your line of sight and you wonder, for a moment, if Jake was feeling the same feelings you were. If he missed his best friend, or if you truly were nothing more than something to play with when he was bored.

Bob’s hand gives yours a small squeeze and has you looking back at him breaking you from the trance between the pair of you. Jake hasn’t moved an inch, though neither has Javy.

A sigh falls from you, and you know that neither of them plan to move. Javy might have been your friend, but he was Jake’s best friend, and he would always choose Jake. Without a second thought, you slip between the pair of them, sliding sideway between the space and causing your chest to barely brush against Jake’s. Neither of your eyes leaves the other as you stare up at him, and the casual stance he takes makes your blood boil. He sinks back into his heels and watches you before his eyes trace up and down your form.

The low whistle he lets out fills you with disgust and your glare hardens in defense. His smirk widens slightly, one you knew wasn’t real or at least wasn’t real for your Jake, but your Jake had died in the locker room, and in his place stood, an empty, arrogant, jackass pilot.

The pool stick rests between the two of you, and Jake’s hand resting on it isn’t really holding on to it. Your own hand finds it as you move through the gap and rip it from Jake’s easily, a taunting smirk now making its way onto your lips.

Other than that, you don’t acknowledge him. Not a single word was muttered or an ounce of emotion shown. You knew that it would piss him off, you knew every single button to push to make Jacob Seresin mad. Just like he knew every one of your buttons, unfortunately.

...

You can hear Bob muttering curses at you as you bend over the pool table. The only thing standing between you and winning was the 8 ball and you were lined up perfectly. You call top left corner, lifting your eyes to watch Bob as you make the shot. The crack of the ball sinking in the pocket has you laughing and holding your hand out for the 20 he owned you.

“You know, you don’t have to be such a showoff all the time.” The comment is teasing as he slaps a 20 into your open palm and has you laughing.

“I seem to remember teaching you that little move, Cherry baby. As well as a few other things.”

The voice rings out and has you laugh halting, before turning around to glare at the blonde. Your eyes glance back at Bob and find him quietly standing by, just waiting. Neither of them had said anything to you all night. Not when you were officially introduced to the squad. Not as you, Phoenix, and Halo talked about being the only women called back. Not when you were left alone at the bar to get the next round of drinks.

It had been radio silence the whole time, each of them too busy in their own conversations. Though it seemed like your luck had officially run out. Your eyes shift from Bob to look at Hangman and the wink he gives you only furthers your annoyance. Your hip rests on the pool table and while the group had been preoccupied, the comment followed by Rooster laughing gained their attention.

The pair of them move closer to you, pushing you back till your nearly sitting on the pool table. Your unassumed gaze doesn’t change though and as you shove the 20 into your bra, you make a move to leave the pair. Though your actions are futile as Rooster catches your arm and pulls you back.

The action has Phoenix and Coyote moving for you, though it’s Bob that holds up a hand. Quietly telling them that the sooner this happened the better, the three of you were the only ones that could fix the current predicament. It wasn’t like Bob was leaving you to the wolves though. No, Bob knew just how much you could take and if you really needed the help, he would be the first one stepping in.

“Vague innuendos, how original of you Bagman.” Your eyes pass between the pair, before settling on Rooster. “I’m assuming you’re the bottom in the relationship, Chicken? Given the fact that you’ve only been able to glare at me and grab me.” Your hand rises to pry fingers from your forearm and a small chuckle leaves your chest. “Little weak there, honey. Might wanna start doing something to fix that or are you too busy being his bitch.”

Your head tilts in question as a mocking look of wonder graces your face. The glare Rooster gives you has you laughing lightly, overjoyed at how easily you can rile him up.

“I forgot how much of an annoying bitch you were, y/n.” The words drip with acid and at one point in time would have hurt you. The girl they knew, would have been devastated, but that wasn’t you anymore. Jake wasn’t the only one that died in that locker room ten years ago.

“Oh, thank you.” A small smile rises on your lips before your hand gently reaches out to rest on Rooster’s chest. You push up from your position on the pool table and step even closer to the pair. “I hope you sincerely mean that because then I know I’m successfully making your life a living hell.”

You go to push through the pair again, hoping to see if Bob wants to go home. You had more than enough socializing and needed to be ready for tomorrow. From tomorrow on, the mission would hold the most importance in your life. You would be flying this mission, you had to.

You don’t get far from the pair, just barely passed them when Jake’s voice rings out. “You need to get over it, Cherry. One of us is going to be mission leader,” his hand gestures between Rooster and himself. “and you’ll fall in line willingly or well...” a shrug of his shoulder says it all and you can’t stop yourself.

Your feet are moving you back to the pair before you can think it through and you see Bob move for you, but you're already right back where the pair want you. You shouldn’t let them rile you up, that was your game, but the sublet threat didn’t sit well with you.

“Understand this,” Your voice had yet to be harsh, till now. “If anyone is going to be mission leader, it’s me. You’re both welcome to challenge me, but you will lose and I will fucking enjoy watching you burn in.”

You leave before anyone can say anything, no longer caring if Bob was coming with you or not. You needed to get out of the damn bar and as far away from them as possible. Tears threaten to break as you get outside and only when you are safely in your jeep do you allow your tears to fall.

#callsign cherry 🍒#jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw #jake 'hangman' seresin #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #tgm imagine #tgm fic #tgm #gingy writes

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redfurrycat · 1 year

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🚀🤖Pacific Rim and Top Gun (AU)🤖🚀

Tom Iceman Kazansky, Commander of the Pacific Fleet, the military branch of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, brings back to the Miramar Shatterdome the former Jaeger pilot Pete Maverick Mitchell to teach the new Rangers how to become better Jaeger pilots as well as to combat the Kaiju.

He’s the last known Jaeger pilot alive to have defeated three kaiju, despite the fact he was piloting his Jaeger alone – his former co-pilot Nick Goose Bradshaw had died during a previous simulation exercise leaving Mav without a compatible match, though it didn’t deter Mav from piloting his Jaeger alone to save another Jaeger team – Ron Slider Kerner & Tom Iceman Kazansky...

However, the successful rescue (followed by Iceman’s declaration of undying love and admiration for him – ‘Shut up, Ron! It’s not true!’ had said an unnaturally flustered Ice after Mav and Ice’s wingmen hug moment) left Maverick with severe neurological injuries including phantom memories from Goose as he died while they were still connected to each other.

It’s like having a piece of someone within your body and soul, only that this person is no longer alive, and it could be quite traumatic for somebody new to attempt a drift connection with one-and-a-half person. (Partly why Maverick was shut out from the Jaeger program, that and his famously known chaotic nature, of course.)

Because to able to pilot a Jaeger, you have to share what is known as a drift compatibility with your co-pilot. Drifting requires the pilots to share their memories, instinct and emotions with each other, and it allows them to act as one consciousness and control the very movement of the Jaeger itself, each pilot controlling one hemisphere. While drifting, pilots need to keep their mind clear of all thoughts [psspss like the ‘no mind’ from The Last Samurai! 👼🏻] to avoid R.A.B.I.T – the following of a memory to the point of losing the focus you need to control the Jaeger. As such, drift compatibility is a potential that exists between two people, that is usually determined through sparring exercises in the Kwoon Combat Room, the point is not to beat your opponent but whether or not you’re able to work in sync with each other. {Source: the Pacific Rim Fandom Page about Drift}

Twelve new Rangers are called back to the Miramar Shatterdome, under the command of Marshal Beau Cyclone Simpson. Most of them are already paired up in a Jaeger.

However, Maverick wants to try some out-of-the-box thinking by changing the designated pair of each Jaeger. "Because –says Mav reading from a stack of disorganized papers, in front of Cyclone, Warlock, and Iceman– according to research, the Kaiju are sentient beings very much capable of in-depth reasoning, something they weren’t to do before, and, as such, I feel the need, the need to change some shit up to try throwing them off."

Thus begin the tests for new drift-compatible partners…

Before:

The Crimson Typhoon team – Bob, Phoenix, Rooster.

The Striker Eureka team – Coyote & Hangman.

The Gipsy Danger team – Fanboy & Payback.

The Cherno Alpha team – Fritz & Halo.

The Guardian Bravo team – Harvard, Omaha & Yale.

After:

The Striker Eureka team – Rooster & Hangman.

The Bracer Phoenix team – Fritz & Phoenix.

The Gipsy Danger team – Halo, Payback & Yale.

The Crimson Typhoon team – Bob, Fanboy & Omaha.

The Coyote Tango team – Coyote & Harvard.

The Cherno Alpha team – Iceman & Mav. [Even though it's super risky for the two of them, they’ll pilot one last time, and for the first time together, to help assist and rescue the Jaegers teams sent to drop a bomb to close the Breach, cutting the passage between the Earth and the Kaiju homeworld, once and for all.]

Let’s just say that the changes are not smooth for every pilot. Some get to stay in the Jaeger they’ve known all along, others don’t (let’s say some neural handshakes allowing the drifting function better in a particular Jaeger with a particular pair).

Rooster, for instance, used to be in a three-neural-handshake, and now must share with only one person, the –absolutely "despicable"– flawless Hangman. And Hangman is a bit frustrated ‘cause he used to be the best with his Coyote bro…and now feels like falling behind because of Rooster. So, he may or may not be overly provocative with his new co-pilot who thinks too much and follows the R.A.B.I.T every time he drifts with Hangman. [Nevertheless, before Rooster spirals out of control, there is a very strong neural handshake, the strongest ever registered. They just need to sort their shit out first.]

Bonus Hangster Conversation

(inspired by my beloved Chaleigh babes' stellar conversation in the movie)

Hangman: So you're the guy, eh Rooster? You're the guy who's going to be my new co-pilot?

Rooster: Yeah, Hangman. That's the plan.

Hangman: Good. Good. So, remind me again. When was the last time you jockeyed, Brad?

Rooster: You know very well it was three months ago with Tasha and Bobby…’Cause you were there!

Hangman: Colour me shocked with the way you weren’t able to stop following the R.A.B.I.T earlier…Looked like you were a Jaeger groupie just given the opportunity to pilot a Jaeger for the first time of his life. You’re a Ranger, act like one!

Rooster: Excuse-me for taking the time to feel the new Jaeger and my new co-pilot! It’s easy for you to say! Let me reorganize my feathers or something before jumping into it!

Hangman: Oh, wow, that's great. I mean, that's really useful. We get into a fight, you can build our way out of it with wings, as we won’t move a single hair of our Jaeger, eh, Brad?

Rooster: It's Bradley.

Hangman: Whatever. Look, I know you’re Commander Kazansky and Ranger Mitchell’s golden goose, but to me, so far, you're dead weight. You slow me down, I'm gonna drop you like a sack of Kaiju shit. *fingers guns and winking combo followed by dramatic exit*

#pacific rim au #with top gun characters #icemav #tom iceman kazansky x pete maverick mitchell #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x bradley rooster bradshaw #dagger squad #coyote and phoenix get to pilot a jaeger whom they share the same callsigns :P #PACIFIC RIM JAEGERS RANGERS ARE AWESOME OKAY?! AND YOU SHOULD GO WATCH THE MOVIE THIS INSTANT!#BELOVED GIANT FREAKING ROBOTS #Drifting & Drift Compatibility is one of the best thing EVER in terms of tropes....#It's like the update of '''only one bed to share between two idiots'''#though you don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be drift compatible #although there is a physical compatibility to take into account as well ;P #let's pretend every jaeger has a two & three neural handshake option...cause yeah.... I said so xD #Final note - I'm actually surprised it took me this long to make a PR & TG au.... :O #homemade collage #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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