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milesdickpic · 7 months

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Thanksgiving at the Bradshaws | H.C

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Happy Thanksgiving, Besties! For those who celebrate, be safe and i hope you have a great day! Whether you celebrate it or not, I just want to let you all know that I am BEYOND grateful for each and everyone of you. Thank you for being here with me 🥰 I love you all so much! ❤️ Happy reading and enjoy! 💕

*Can be read in conjunction with the HLG series! 🦃

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You and Bradley planned a low-key Thanksgiving for the family. It was going to be a laid back and cozy night.

All the kids were asleep while all the adults started to make dinner. It was going to be an early night since everyone had to work early the next morning.

Austin made his famous stuffing. He had brought it the year prior and it had to be the best stuffing you and Bradley had ever had in your lives.

Phoenix made a a potato casserole along with some green beans.

Hangman worked on the turkey, making sure it was pure perfection. (Like himself)

You made mashed potatoes, gravy, and Mac and cheese.

Bradley started to set up the table. He put out the best cutlery you and him had in the house, as well as the best looking plates. The ones that weren’t stained nor microwaved burned from the men of the house.

Bradley wrote name tags for everyone and set each of them on a plate at the table. He grabbed a jar and labeled it “What I am Grateful For.” And placed it in the middle of the table.

“Thanksgiving dinner for brunch is the best idea we’ve ever came up with.” Hangman laughed as he was basting the turkey with broth and butter. “This baby is almost ready!”

Bradley laughed and smiled. “I am so ready to eat. I missed dinner last night so I could be an endless pit today.”

Phoenix scoffed as she finished laying out her dishes she repaired. “You’re always and endless pit, Bradshaw. You and your kids!” She slapped his shoulder as she set the dishes onto the table.

You came over and looked at the table. Bradley had set out some little pumpkins left over from Halloween. He lit a couple of candles, he set put the nice silverware and plates. He put out 2 variances of wine glasses. (Plastic ones for the kiddos) Each plate had everyone’s name on it. It was so cute and simple.

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you for setting the table, Brad.” You placed the Gravy onto the table as Bradley went to grab the mashed potatoes and Mac and cheese.

As everyone started to lay their dishes onto the table, you and Bradley went upstairs to get the kiddies ready. Everyone decided that Thanksgiving themed pajamas were the move.

The boys wore matching turkey onesies, Leia wore a “bring on the leftovers” pajama, Bradley wore a pajama that was full of turkeys, you wore a pajama set that was covered in cute coffees, lattes, pies, and pumpkins.

You and Bradley brought down the kids. The boys were strong enough to start sitting on their own in their high chairs. So you and Bradley placed them into each of theirs. Leia pranced around and looked at all the food that was laid out for everyone.

“GOSH I AM SO HUNGRY!” Leia was so excited. “You and me both, sweetheart.” Bradley picked up Leia and kissed her cheek over and over again.

Everyone started to make their way downstairs.

Phoenix wore an oversized pajama set that said, “official pumpkin pie tester.”

Austin wore a grey pajama set with pumpkin pies all over it. (Hehehe)

Gunner came running into the kitchen with a onesie that had turkeys, pumpkins, and “happy thanksgiving” written all over it.

You all started to take a seat at the table. Bradley sat at the head of the table. You to the left of him. Next to you was Phoenix followed by Austin and then little Bradley in his high chair next to him. On the other side was going to be Leia, Jake, and then Luke in his high chair.

You were all seated and Bradley looked around for Jake.

“Seresin. Hurry the hell up!” You slapped Bradley’s arm and shook your head. “Sorry, sweetheart.” Bradley cleared his throat. “MOVE YOUR ASS, SERESIN!”

“IM COMING!” Jake yelled from the top of the stairs. You could all hear him making his ay down.

“HO-LY. SHIIIIIT.” Bradley, Leia, and Phoenix all said at the same time as Jake made his way down.

Hangman was in a big turkey onesie. He had the hood on and everything.

“That is one big Turkey.” Austin laughed as he looked at Jake.

“Gobble Gobble these nuts, Bradshaw.” Jake laughed and Bradley spit out his water.

“MY CHILDREN ARE IN THE ROOM.” He lunged for Leia’s ears.

Once you all sat down every one took turns writing what they were grateful for and placed it into the jar.

Bradley jumble the jar and everyone took turns asking out a paper and reading what was on it.

You were first, “I am grateful for being able to spend this holiday season (and everyday) with the people I love.” You smiled and looked around. Austin raised his hand. “Mine. I’m grateful to have you all in my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You passed the jar to Phoenix. “I am grateful for being alive and being around those I love the most.” Phoenix looked straight at Bradley. Bradley smiled and nodded at Phoenix. “That be me. I love you guys.”

Phoenix passed the jar to Austin. “I am grateful for food.” Everyone looked slowly at Leia. She started to turn red and giggle. “I AM HUNGRY, OKAY!” She crossed her arms and scowled at everyone as you all laughed.”

Austin gave the jar to Leia. “I am grateful for all my friends and family.” Leia looked up at everyone. Phoenix put her finger up. “Me. I’m grateful for all of you. Life would have been lame if I wasn’t here with you all right now.” She looked at Hangman, “That includes you too, Bagman.” They both laughed.

Leia gave the jar to Hangman. “Here, Uncle Jakey.” He kissed her cheek and pulled out one of the folded papers. “I am grateful for the beautiful family I have been given.” You smiled, “I don’t know where i would have been if I hadn’t met or created any of you. I love you, guys.”

Jake reached over Leia and gave the jar to Bradley. “WELL. We all know who is left.” Jake laughed.

Bradley pulled out the last folded paper. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He looked down at it and his smile softened. He looked at Jake and gave him a little nod and he nodded back. Bradley sighed. “I am grateful for saving the man that saved me. Thank you Bradshaw for taking me in as one of your own after all these years. I don’t deserve you, buddy. I am thankful for being able to be a part of his and y/n’s family.” Bradley folded the paper back up and smiled at Hangman.

Jake pushed his lips together and smiled. “Of course you’d get mine. But it’s true. I’ll forever be grateful and thankful that you both have allowed me to be a part of your family. Thank you.” You got up and gave Jake a kiss on the cheek. Bradley smiled, “I couldn’t imagine a life without you, Turkeyman.”

Leia gave Jake a kiss. “I love you, uncle Jakey!”

After all the thanks were given you all ate together reminiscing on what the year had been so far. You were all grateful for everything you were given in the last 11 months.

After dinner, you all cozied up on the couches and Leia chose to watch ‘Addams Family Values.’ Her favorite part was when Wednesday sabotaged the play and burned down the thanksgiving set.

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Happy Thanksgiving, my loves! I promise to be posting the next chapter of HLG this coming week. Everything has just been so hectic! But it will be up soon! Thank you for your patience and love. See you in the next one! 🫶🏼

Dinner party guests are in the comments ❤️

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polar-equinoxx · 2 months

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Step one: make peace with dad

Step two: manage to survive mission with dad

Step three: have dads kiss each other on the carrier’s deck

#sorry not sorry rooster ;)#what did i tell u about being on easter holidays #anyway- happy easter to those who celebrate!!!#ms tg #ms art #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanart

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randomtacoscry · 5 months

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(warning: the volume is pretty high so put your device on like 2)

#i have been wanting to post more of my edits so….#merry christmas (and happy holidays to those who don’t celebrate)#hangster #top gun maverick #sereshaw #hangman x rooster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun edit #edits #my edit

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themissingmango · 5 months

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#my art #Top Gun Tree!!!#complete with rooster and goose ornaments #this was so much funnnn #top gun fandom #top gun fanart #goose #Maverick #rooster #top gun Christmas #holiday #Christmas tree #aircraft #fighter jets #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #🎄

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roosterforme · 6 months

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Happy Holidays!

I just wanted to pop in and say thank you for being here! Thank you for reading, reblogging and chatting all year long. Just letting you know that after I post the conclusion to Pink Christmas tomorrow (Christmas Eve for me, Christmas Day for some), I'm taking the week off from posting the rest of my series. Going to spend some time with my family. I'll be back fresh and ready to go for more after that!

However, I may post a blurb or two for the AU collection and perhaps a one-shot next week, so keep your eyes peeled for those! And, I am weeks and weeks behind on reading and reblogging, and I want to catch up on that. If you can think of something I should read, please let me know (comment or reblog here, or send an ask or DM). I'll be catching up on reading, reblogging, and reblogging comments on my fics, but I'll be around. So definitely keep sending me asks, and I'll try to answer them.

And I'll just drop my favorite Christmas song right here.

#if you ask emily #roosterforme #happy holidays #i love fuckboys #bradley bradshaw is my daddy #Spotify

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redfurrycat · 6 months

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🤠🎄🎁🐓Christmassy Fic Recs🐓🎁🎄🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Acetonitril, Achillesheel, Alecjbi, AnadoraBlack, Chase_acow, Conny_the_destroyer, Crueltether, Cryinginthebronco, Dandeliondick, Davidbyrne, DecadentWorld, Earthangel_44, Emseebeans, Evansrogerskitten, Flyingfightingfishy, Ginnydear, Greatea, Greenstuff, Hangmanbradshaw, Haridwar, Imafriendlydalek, Infinitejaust, Juliabaggins, KarenFreitas19, KazanskIce, K0ralik, LadyLanera, Lemqnie, Lightwoodsisabelle, MadeItUp, Nickies_Nonsense, Nimuetheseawitch, Notchka88, OfTheDirewolves, Orphan_account, ReformedTsundere, Renai_chan, Sycamoretree, Viridimessorem, WaffleToaster, Writerofthelorde, Xo_em.

‼️Art Bonus‼️

Daggers X-Mas by Beezelarts

Dagger X-Mas Tree, Hangster Baking by Oidingus

Top Gun X-Mas Tree, Javynat X-Mas, Macheresin X-Mas by Themissingmango

gift. by crueltether {G}

The crew does Secret Santa. Jake just so happens to get Rooster as his gift partner.

The Christmas Bob outdid himself by AnadoraBlack {M}

Bob organizes a Secret Santa among the squad. Jake's nervous, because he's never had to gift anyone anything before. He's even more scared when faced with the gifts he receives. He shouldn't be either of those things...

cowboy, take me away by ginnydear {T}

jake has a cowboy hat he doesn't just let anyone wear. bradley takes that as a challenge.

We've had our share of tears, but now it's Christmas by JuliaBaggins {T}

Maverick hasn't really celebrated Christmas in years, and he isn't too much of a fan of it. It's a family holiday after all, one that always reminds him of the people he's lost, and one that he doesn't have anyone to spend it with. But maybe this year, he'll get some surprises at Christmas, and eventually realize just how very loved he is...

Must Have Been the Mistletoe by ReformedTsundere {G}

Bradley hadn't thought trying to arrange a fourteen-person Christmas party would be so hard. He supposes he should have known better, given the summer barbeque debacle a few months prior and the Thanksgiving disaster that had just happened at Ice and Mav's. Still, he'd been under some impression that the Christmas spirit would make the majority of his friends (his family, really) more manageable. By the fourth phone call in as many as two hours, Bradley is contemplating faking his death and having the entire thing called off.

Under the Christmas Lights by emseebeans {T}

On the night before Christmas, Bradley and Jake sit in front of the Christmas tree and make an important decision.

Wintersong by xo_em {T}

It had been noisy, this trip, in the best way. All of them gathered together up in the mountains for the holiday, forgoing their normal family obligations in order to nurture this small and fragile family that they’d chosen for themselves.

home for the holidays by alecjbi {E}

“Aren’t you going home?” “I usually just stay with Javy and his brother and their family,” Jake explained. There was some sort of a sad look in his eye, something far away, like a fresh wound that had just started to scab over. “Mav and Ice can take care of me,” he tried. Jake just stared at him, unimpressed. “You and Mav would kill each other within a week.” or-- jake takes care of bradley.

Santa, Baby by Renai_chan {E}

Jake puts on another costume for Bradley, and Bradley isn't quite sure about this one. On the one hand, Jake is sexy in all his forms. On the other hand, he's dressed as Santa.

Snowfall in San Diego by evansrogerskitten {E}

As much as Bradley dreaded facing Jake, he couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas gift.

snow on the beach (weird but fucking beautiful) by k0ralik {G}

Jake had always felt like a partridge in a pear tree – out of place. He just never felt like he really belonged. And then there came a man with the most beautiful brown eyes Jake has ever seen. He was tall and unruly, broad and composed, golden and vibrant. He was a dream. And Jake fell so quickly, so rapidly, like a plane that’d been shot down with no prior dogfight. Now, Jake belongs with him. And they are going to his family home for Christmas. Which is... terrifying, to say the least.

All Around the World is Sleeping by Renai_chan {E}

It's Christmas morning, and Bradley's feeling a bit frisky, despite Jake's firm insistence that it's five am, Bradley. Like, why?

I’ve got my love to keep me warm by lightwoodsisabelle {G}

It was one of the first things that Bradley learned about Jake after they leaned into the flirtation that had been brewing for years and started to date. Jake was, without fail, always cold. or: obligatory "jake is always cold" holiday fic

I’ll take my time (I’m not the forward thinker) by davidbyrne {T}

Bradley decides to pick first. He figures this way, he has a better chance of picking someone he actually knows, like Nat or Payback. He shoves his hand into the hat, mixing the slips of paper around and then clinging to one at random. For some reason, his heartbeat feels erratic as he unfolds it, as if he’s scared of the outcome. When he reads the call sign on the paper, he realizes his heart may be on to something. Hangman, it reads, in Rooster’s own blocky script. Or Bradley gets Jake for secret Santa. Things spiral from there.

I’ll Be Yours for Christmas (if only in my dreams) by greenstuff {E}

After the mission, Bradley tells Jake that his mom thinks they’re dating and, against his better judgement, Jake agrees to go along with it for Christmas. Shameless fake dating holiday fluff set in a world where Carole didn’t die but everything else in canon happened.

5 more nights of sleeping on my own (4 more days until you’re coming home) by Conny_the_destroyer {T}

The first Christmas spent together doesn't go as planned for Bradley and Jake.

Let it snow by AnadoraBlack {T}

Bradley should really have listened to that weather forecast. Alas, he's an idiot, so he didn't, and now, he's trapped in his appartment on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, so is his neighbour...

we met in the winter (and we fell in love) by haridwar {T}

Merry Flocking Christmas by LadyLanera {T}

Christmas Miracles come in many forms. Sometimes that comes in the form of your daughter waking on Christmas Day from being unconscious for two months. In other forms, it's your wingman of almost 35 years rising from the dead. What do you do if you're Maverick Mitchell and this happens? Well, you obviously take everyone on a real Christmas vacation of course. In other words, Ice LIVES again and chaos ensues.

A Hallmark Hangster Christmas by infinitejaust {T}

Bradley Bradshaw hates Christmas and he hates small towns. He especially hates that this year, he’s going to have to spend Christmas in a small town. A cutesy one, with all sorts of annoyingly festive Christmas traditions. Jake Seresin loves Christmas. He has a Christmas sweater for every day of December. He loves life in a small town. He's not about to befriend a big city Scrooge. The townspeople of Alta Pistola, Colorado, have plans for both of them.

I'll Be Home for Christmas (And I'll be Making it Your Problem) by ReformedTsundere {T}

Javy is scrolling past their local college's "Personals" page, seeing if they can find students they know enough to make harmless jokes at, when an apparent ad stops them both. Rent-A-Boyfriend Need someone to take home for the holidays? Not looking forward to being sat around the table and made to play nice? I'm a 26-year-old Navy brat with more piercings, tattoos, and trauma than sense. Polisci and Engineering double major who is running on caffeine (but can make it seem like I've got a drug problem). I ride a motorcycle for fun, have what can only be described as a "pornstache," and am unapologetically queer. I can and will, without trying, make any conservative parent wish they'd never picked up the phone to make you come home and have a blast doing it.

A Boyfriend for Christmas by dandeliondick {E}

Ice left Bradley a cabin in need of some TLC, but Rooster can fix a car but not a kitchen cabinet. Jake "Hangman" Seresin has finally given up the asshole act and his fight against how lovable Bradley is. So Jake flies out to help a sentimental bird fix up a cabin in a small town in Colorado near Christmas....nothing will happen...right?

It’s a Marshmallow World in the Winter by Earthangel_44 {E}

Jake gets snowed in with Bradley for a week and gets more then he bargains for.

Dreamhouse by emseebeans {T}

On the night before Christmas, there's one only gift left to put together before Bradley and Jake are ready for the big day.

help to make the season bright by achillesheel {G}

Jake spends his first Christmas celebration with Dagger Crew — and, technically, his first Christmas with Bradley. In between the usual Dagger Crew dynamics and newfound Christmas traditions, Jake and Bradley are left to figure out where they stand with each other (even if they can’t discuss their feelings to save their lives).

Kiss Me When We Hit The Hard Deck by Writerofthelorde {T}

Hangman and Coyote put mistletoe in the doorway of the Hard Deck. Jake is trying to get kissed by Bradley, but he hadn't anticipated a certain Captain and a certain Admiral to find themselves underneath it too... Ice decides this is the perfect moment to tell the others about their relationship and happily kisses him right in that doorway.

sweet dreams of holly and ribbon (mistakes are forgiven) by cryinginthebronco {E}

It’s nearly 7:30 p.m. when Bradley pulls up in front of Javy’s house. He’s already late to the Christmas party that started over an hour ago, so he doesn’t waste any time before turning off the engine. He’s out of the vehicle and at the front door before the car door even slams shut. After ringing the doorbell, he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, waiting for someone to let him in. or Jake wears a dress, and Bradley loses his mind or sexy santa dress fic

He's My Sugar Cookie Kind of Sweetness by Renai_chan {T}

Jake and Elise bake cookies and turn their kitchen into a huge mess. Luckily, Bradley is there to help them clean up after.

It Takes Three (Steps) by Writerofthelorde {G}

Maverick wants an excuse to kiss his Iceman at the navy base and asks Hangman for help hanging mistletoe around the base. And not just a branch or two but more like twenty. or forty. He wants to kiss /and/ annoy the love of his life. Because of course he does. Jake asks Bradley to help them and he tries to get a chance to kiss him. It's quite disastrous.

I Gave You My Heart by Renai_chan {G}

Jake gives Bradley a present.

Gonna Make Your Home My Bed and Heart by ReformedTsundere {E}

Jake's stomach hurts, his eyes are watering, and there's an ache in his jaw as he holds a hand over his mouth, trying his hardest to stifle the donkey-like laughter spilling out of him. He'd had to push himself away from the table when doubling over was impossible to stop, and can feel, even as echoing laughter surrounds him, Bradley's hard stare. When Jake manages to open his eyes, looking up as he wipes the tears from them, the brunet is glaring.

The Twelve Days of Leave by orphan_account

The Twelve Days of Leave {T}

When Bradley made plans to meet his godfather for the holidays, the last thing he expected was to get marooned in an airport en route... When Jake had to rush home for a family emergency, the last thing he expected was to run into a fellow fighter pilot on the way... Now that the two former-rivals had joined up to spend Christmas in Jake's home town, would unexpected sparks fly? Or would they crash and burn? :::OR::: A fun, fluffy holiday romp with a pinch of angst, a dash of cheer, and a sprig of holly, all wrapped in a big red bow.

The Bonus Day of Leave {E}

Bonus smut shot for my holiday story, The Twelve Days of Leave. Highly recommend reading that first. :::OR::: "But the man’s completely unexpected appearance wasn’t what stopped Rooster dead in his tracks. No, it was the fact that Jake was standing there in a Santa hat, red velvet thong, and… nothing else. “Merry Christmas, baby,” the blond smiled lasciviously. Eyes trailing down that perfectly sculpted torso of their own volition, Bradley found himself lost for words. Jake’s smile widened. “What, the Rooster not gonna crow for me?” His gaze never leaving the other man’s semi-nakedness, Bradley mindlessly quipped back, “Baby, I gotta feeling I’m about to crow for you all night long.”"

New Beginnings by Nickies_Nonsense {G}

Bradley swallowed hard, “do you think I can do this?” he whispered. Slider’s hand landed on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Never doubted you for a second kiddo,” he said. —— Or, being a new Dad is HARD. Good thing Bradley’s husband Jake is there along with the dozen other aviators they call grandparents. Fluff, cuddling, and dubious child-raising follow.

that little farm where every wish comes true by hangmanbradshaw {E}

Jake's only wish that holiday season was simple- to keep his family christmas tree farm. He never expected that wish would be granted via a man with deep pockets, an amused smile, and commitment issues a mile wide. He never expected to like him. He definitely never expected to love him. Hell, he never expected Bradley Bradshaw. Or Hallmark Christmas Movie but make it sugar (daddy) and spice and everything nice.

The Christmas Wedding Date by imafriendlydalek {E}

Bradley knows it’s a terrible idea, even as he’s agreeing to it. Sure, things between him and Jake are better now since the mission, but the bar for that was so low it was practically on the ground. Just because things are “better,” just because Hangman saved his life, just because they had a long talk about what happened in the past—a talk that maybe ended with some rather hurried but incredibly satisfying blowjobs in a bunk on an aircraft carrier and them then texting each other all of twice before today—doesn’t mean that this is a good idea. Spending a whole long weekend together, over Christmas no less? At Jake’s sister’s wedding? Pretending to be his boyfriend? A terrible idea. Still, Bradley has been known for making ill-advised decisions when it comes to one Jacob Seresin, and today is no different. “Yeah, alright,” he hears himself say. Can even hear the smile on his face. “Guess I should iron my suit, huh?” It earns him a laugh from Jake, gravelly and delighted. “Oh no, darlin’. This is an event for dress blues.”

lightning strikes every time he moves by hangmanbradshaw {E}

Jake does not have a crush on Bradley fucking Bradshaw (he totally doesn't, shut up Javy), he doesn't want to be dragged along on this trip, and he definitely doesn't want to room with said pain in his ass/newfound almost friend. He buried all that shit long ago, but when Bradley asks if he'll teach him about sleeping with guys, he can't resist the challenge. Turns out no one had ever stuck, but Bradley Bradshaw is unshakeable. Or, About to be formed into a permanent squadron, the daggers take a group trip to a cabin in the mountains to enjoy some skiing and festive decorations. An unexpected blizzard unearths a crush that ends up being so much more, and Jake never thought he'd be writing both a complaint and thank you letter to Triple A.

Clueless Christmas by sycamoretree {M}

Christmas draws near after the Dagger mission. While everyone heads home, Bradley chooses to work at Top Gun instead of celebrating Christmas. Jake finds out and decides to stay and in secret bring Christmas spirit into his life.

miles to go before I sleep by lemqnie {E}

Five cold winters between Jake and Bradley and one warm Christmas. or Jake and Bradley's relationship through the years.

Know Better by chase_acow {E}

“You can come, but I am not fucking you in my mom’s home,” Jake said, leaning into his stern voice. He’d learned enough about how to wrangle the older man in the last couple of months to know he had to start out solid and then stick to his guns. “And we don’t have time to fool around now. So repack, and you’d better pick at least one shirt that isn’t going to blind everyone with the print.” Bradley smirked, and Jake should have known better.

santa, can't you hear me? by hangmanbradshaw {E}

Jake Seresin didn't want to live the lyrics of Last Christmas, but in the aftermath of a breakup, he finds himself meeting someone different, someone maybe even special, in the form of a reporter sent to do a profile on him. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't what he expected, but maybe that's a good thing. The rest, well, he can honestly say he never saw it coming.

The Present by DecadentWorld {T}

Not too long after the mission, a Secret Santa game among the Daggers is on. Such a jovial event, it should be. All of it. The process of choosing, the giving, the reaction. Jake begs to differ.

my love life waits for me by davidbyrne {T}

Jake’s been a Chemistry teacher at Winthrop Preparatory Academy for more than three years and has, so far, avoided holding over, the dreaded duty of having to stay over the holiday break to watch the kids who aren’t going home. It’s a two-teacher job, and in Jake’s experience, it’s always been Bradshaw and some other poor sap. Jake had been promised it wouldn’t be his year. He has plane tickets, family plans, and his mother’s pecan pie sitting on a kitchen counter in wonderful, warm Houston. And now he’s gonna have to stay trapped in this snowy hellscape with a bunch of obnoxious kids and Bradley fucking Bradshaw. or jake and bradley are two teachers at a boarding school, forced to spend the holiday season together

Christmas is what you bake it by nimuetheseawitch {T}

“Hey honeybuns, whatchya making?” Jake planted a kiss on his shoulder before hooking his chin over it to take a look at the gingerbread. Bradley only stiffened in surprise for a moment before practically melting into Jake’s arms. Jake could feel his grin where their faces touched. “Well, sweet cheeks, what does it look like?” “It looks like you’re making enough gingerbread to both house and feed an army.” Bradley laughed at that. “You think you’re up for helping me out?” “I’ll make the best gingerbread house you’ve ever seen.”

Santa baby by KarenFreitas19 {E}

Bradley is sitting in the armchair dressed as Santa Claus. Well, more or less, he wears red pants, boots and the hat, but his shirt is unbuttoned and he doesn't have a beard.

Home for the Holidays by Nickies_Nonsense {G}

“Well let me know if you need a ride anywhere,” Rooster said. Jake did not think he was serious. “For real?” he asked, shoving the note of hope back down his own throat, “I might need to take you up on that like..soon.” Rooster gave him a little smile, “I mean it, it’s the season of giving and all that bullshit,” he drawled. “Plus you got me coffee so I owe you.” Or, how Jake and Bradley got back together just in time for the holidays with the help of one broken car, a scheming Maverick, and the spirit of Christmas to guide them. Featuring lots of Jake questioning his life decisions, his ideals, and why Bradley needs to consume unreasonable amounts of sugary coffee everyday.

if you need a friend by acetonitril {G}

The Dagger squad reunite at the Christmas market. Things Jake says: "I want to watch them light the Christmas tree." Things Bradley says: "I want to have Jake's children." A silly story about a lost child.

Being your something (for Christmas) by WaffleToaster {E}

It all started because of a damn Christmas sweater. Bradley's pretty sure there's some underlying motive behind all this, all he wants to do is to survive the party, but Jake ends up making everything ten times worse than it actually is. So what can he do other than defend his pride? Throw in some alcohol, some stupid questions and some shameless behaviour and just maybe.. maybe, he'll admit that he's actually having fun. And maybe he'll also admit that he's kind of hoping for something more..

all I want (is you) by OfTheDirewolves {T}

A text message sends Bradley Bradshaw reeling and makes him have some very needed realizations. Will he finally get the courage to make a move? & will the man he loves reciprocate?

Kissin' by the Mistletoe (until we get it right) by MadeItUp, Notchka88 {T}

Penny’s Christmas Party is an annual tradition. It's invite only, and the entry requirement is a dish for the potluck, an ornament for the tree, or ten bucks for the tip jar. All Jake has to do is put in an appearance and then he can leave. But leaving the Hard Deck soon proves more challenging than Jake was expecting. If only he could figure out who is the right person to kiss under the mistletoe...

Make the Yuletide Gay by imafriendlydalek {G}

Mav is looking over Ice’s left shoulder, toward Seresin and Bradshaw, as he says, “The kids seem to be getting along. Is this your doing?” Ice smiles down at him, and maybe it’s just the holidays, or the champagne, or it’s because his doctors recently declared him cancer-free, or because Maverick has finally moved in officially now that he has come to terms with not flying anymore. Whatever it is, it’s making Ice’s heart feel like it could burst with how inordinately fond he is of this man. “I was barely involved. All I did was give them a little nudge out the door.” Mav arches an eyebrow. “Sure thing, Gandalf.” *** Hangman and Rooster, as observed by Iceman, with a special appearance by Bob, a facetious yet observant little shit.

Family Cabin by viridimessorem {T}

If you'd told Jake in October of 2018 that he'd, in the future, end up introducing Bradley Bradshaw to his family as his boyfriend, he'd have, for one, punched you, for another, laughed his ass off because that would never happen. And yet, it had.

Resting Grinch Face by chase_acow {M}

If anyone were to ask Bradley if he felt the holiday spirit, he’d say sure. After all, his bruises had faded to green and his newer scars were finally a dull red. His santa hat cocked jauntily on his head as he played the piano. There was a twink dressed as an elf cuddled up on his left, and on his right an over-sized mug of spiked eggnog. What more did a man need for the holidays?

let's make christmas merry, baby by davidbyrne {T}

Bradley stares at it for so long that the man in front of the counter clears his throat in annoyance. He blinks back to himself, looking up at the man dressed in business casual and sporting an annoyed look. “Sorry, you want me to wrap this?” “Yes,” the man says, exasperated. “That’s why I’m at the gift-wrapping station.” Or 4 times jake brings something ridiculous for bradley to wrap and one time he brings himself

my heart is a christmas tree farm by greatea {E}

It's not like going to your ex-boyfriend's family Christmas while pretending to still be dating is a common favor to be asked for. But he did agree to this, when Jake phoned him up. It hadn't even taken much convincing. First, Jake had expected an immediate no when he called Bradley one Thursday evening. That didn't come. After Jake explained the situation, Bradley had said that he'd think about it. He called back an hour later. Jake's unsure what he would have done if Bradley had said no. Called his mom back and said, "Hey, do you remember when you asked me if I was bringing my boyfriend Bradley to Christmas this year, and I said yes? Yeah, we broke up two months ago and I lied for no reason"? - or the one with the fake dating

All I want (for Christmas) by KazanskIce {M}

“It’s… almost midnight,” Jake stutters, hoping that his time estimation is right. It’s been a couple of hours since the start of the party and he hasn’t been checking his watch. “What about it?” “You know what they say… about kissing someone at midnight.” Bradley laughs shortly, but it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be mean. When he stops, his eyes return to Jake. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t matter, because it’s not New Year’s Eve,” he says. He’s either not getting the point or purposely trying to throw Jake off.

Happy Holidays, from the Bradshaw-Seresins by flyingfightingfishy {T}

Bradley and Jake send out a Christmas card every year, and this year the Daggers have made it into the address book. Too bad most of them didn't even know that Bradley and Jake were married! Confused doesn't even begin to cover it.

#Christmassy Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #Have all a very sweet and lovely wintery holiday season! 💖#homemade collage #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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rae-gar-targaryen · 1 year

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mi media naranja [holiday!AU - mickey "fanboy" garcia x fem!reader, aka "cielo"]

A/N: For Fanboy’s fangirls - a holiday celebration with Fanboy y Cielo. Lots of callbacks to my original Fanboy HCs – so if you’ve been following their journey thus far, there will be lots in here for you. Bonus points if you get the references!

Pairing: Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x fem!civilian!reader (aka “Cielo;” as always no use of y/n – my readers are written ambiguous, but with a latina!reader in mind.)

Warnings: my writing is its own warning, smut, so 18+ ONLY – p in v sex, unprotected sex, v mild breeding kink, references to oral sex

Word Count: 5.8k of the warmth of a holiday spent together with your beloved, of chestnuts roasting on an open fire, of the cinnamon-orange passion of sharing half of yourself with someone else.

Summary: You spend your holidays with your sweet boyfriend. Mickey takes you home to visit his family, but of course, you make sure to indulge in the magic of the holiday, just the two of you [part of the Fanboy y Cielo ‘verse].

(moodboard courtesy of lovely @ouralcohol)

Divided holidays were a challenge.

You and Mickey had opted to spend the few days preceding Christmas with his mother and his sisters, which meant, of course, holiday travel.

You'd left your beachside home in San Diego, packing gifts and luggage alike to make the trek to Mickey’s hometown. Artoo was set up with your friend for the few days you’d be gone. And it wasn’t as though you weren’t coming back in just a few days to celebrate Christmas with Mickey, just the two of you. It would go by in a flash. So why were you nervous?

You had met his family before. And, of course, they’d never indicated anything other than that they’d liked you … Still, you’d felt the perpetual need to impress. To ensure that they still liked you, as though their opinion would have changed in the six months since you had seen them for the family’s summer beach weekend.

And the drive was pleasant enough, Mickey expressing to you ad nauseam that he was glad you were coming,

“You don’t understand, cielo,” he urged. “Every time I talk to my tía it’s like – ‘¿Y tu novia? ¿Y tu novia?’” he parroted. “I swear, it’s like she’s convinced you don’t exist, even though my mom has literally met you.”

You patted his arm in comfort, offering him your coffee cup, which he eyed warily – all too familiar with your penchant for bitter brew. Politely shaking his head in refusal as he turned his eyes back to the road.

You shrugged.

“Oh, I’m familiar,” you assuaged. “My auntie is nosy, too, she does the same. Ever since I was in high school, always asking me where my boyfriend was, judging me if I didn’t bring anyone.”

“And?” Mickey’s eyes darted to you, drumming his hands on the steering wheel in time with the radio (and not at all nervously himself).

You chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at your boyfriend’s a-little-too-curious tone.

“¿Estás celoso o algo así?” Are you jealous, or something? “Don’t worry, M, I don’t bring anyone around unless I think they’re worthwhile.”

You popped across the console on your elbows, enough to press a kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek, pleased at the blooming flush making its way across his finely-peaked, mole-dotted cheekbones. At his happy realization that you had brought him home to meet your family for nearly every Thanksgiving since you’d gotten together.

That you had deemed him worthy.

And though Mickey had assured you that it would be a relatively quiet few days, a few meals and a gift exchange with his mom and his sisters, you couldn’t help but wonder – had Mickey deemed you worthy? Had the women in his life?

So, yeah, you couldn’t help the little prickle of nerves that tingled their way through you as your playlist wound down, the dulcet tones of Sam Cooke’s “Any Day Now,” fading as Mickey turned into his driveway, his mother and sisters waiting to greet you with waving hands and identically-beaming faces. Their smiles were all-to familiar to you – a virtual carbon-copy of the one that regularly greeted you on the face of your beloved.

And it was foolish to worry, really, you thought, as you were crushed with hugs and ushered inside by Mickey’s mother and his three shrieking, giggling sisters, all wearing variations of the same, slightly threadbare sweater (no doubt handmade and worn annually). Leaving Mickey to carry your bags and gifts into the home while his trio of sisters fawned over you,

“She looks gorgeous, no?” Said the eldest, Luci.

“I told you, she’s got that glow,” from Eiza, the youngest.

And it was foolish to worry – when they had shoved a glass of ponche navideño in your hands and began filling you in on all the chisme as your boyfriend huffed his way up to his childhood bedroom, laden with bags.

Hours later, you were packed into the hearth-warm kitchen, virtually up to your elbows in masa as you continued to knead, by hand, the sticky dough for enough tamales to feed an army under the approving (but ever-watchful eye) of your general – Mrs. Garcia. The way her lips had split into a smile when you’d refused the stand-mixer and opted to go manual was something you’d burn into your brain for eternity.

Maybe approval wasn’t so far off.

“Bien, mija,” she appraised, as Mickey sipped his punch from the corner he had been relegated to in the the kitchen, watching with honeymelt eyes as the women who shaped his past, his present, and – his eyes lingered over you – hopefully, his future, all worked in tandem to make homemade tamales. Gossipping away and giggling with each other as though you had been their friend for decades.

“Ma,” Mickey piped up, “you’ve got her making all of this by hand? She’ll cramp up. She’ll have witch's hands by the time we leave. She’s an artist, you know, it’s how she makes her living. How many tamales do you need, anyway?”

Mrs. Garcia whipped the dish towel that was draped over her shoulder at the back of her son’s head, effectively silencing him.

“Miguelito,” she hissed, “Tradicion. And your cousin Shawn says he’ll eat at least forty, and you know they’ll be here til New Year’s.”

“Yeah? Well, cousin Shawn is full of shit.”

Mickey’s sisters rolled their eyes at their brother’s antics, the middle sister, Olivia, bumping her hips against yours, her eyes full of playful mirth as she finished stirring the filling.

And you could make out the living room through its swinging door to the kitchen, Vicente Fernández warbling away on the record player in the corner, as Eiza finished decorating their tree with a few of the ornaments that you and Mickey had brought – one, an orb with a photo of the two of you and Artoo on your couch at home, she displayed prominently at the center of the tree next to some that were clearly school projects from the kids’ elementary school years.

It was nice, you thought – to be in a home that felt like a home for the holidays. To see these little pieces of your love’s life that had preceded you and that had shaped him. To let the magic of the season wash over your lives.

After dinner, you helped Mickey’s sisters store the tamales for the long haul (and the arrival of the cousins) while Mickey did the dishes.

Sliding on stockinged feet over the linoleum in their kitchen, you sheepishly produced a pink box tied in twine, with a tag that had a roughly-hewn, hand-drawn likeness of the Garcia household that you had seen in photographs, offering it to Mickey’s mother – a box stuffed full of pan dulce and Christmas cookies.

“Mija, you made these?” She asked, hand hovering over the open flap, debating which to choose. “They all look so perfect.”

“You should, like, have a baking insta,” Eiza agreed, words muffled by a mouth full of fluffy pink pan dulce.

“They aren’t alla that,” you huffed, waving your hand as though to wave away the compliments.

“She’s modest,” Mickey assured, taking the box from your hands and setting it on the oaken kitchen table before lacing your fingers with his. “She loves to bake. She makes cookies for everyone in the squad for Christmas and birthdays.”

“Really?” Mrs. Garcia appraised. “What did you make this year?”

Rooster was positively gleeful at the sight of the red tin bedecked with snowflakes.

“Are those what I think they are?” He bent down to kiss your cheek as you pressed the box into his hands. “Our Marigold’s famous Christmas gifts?”

You had come down to the base to deliver the baked goods in person, on a day the squad had all agreed to meet for a holiday lunch. A cardboard box full of tins, each with their own personalized tag, awaited each of the Daggers. Javy had taken his – with its tag featuring a little drawing of a howling coyote – and absconded with it, thanking you through a sprinkling mouthful of crumbs and peppermint icing.

Bradley’s, with its tag adorned with a strutting cartoon rooster with its tail feathers made of flames, was full of iced shortbread. Something he had confided to you that his mother had made on holidays past. You hoped he’d like them, not that the recipe you had found online could ever touch Carole Bradshaw's.

Mav had winked, thanking you for the classic chocolate chip, chuckling at the cartoonish aviator sunglasses on the tag.

Chocolate-chili cookies for Phoenix. Peanut butter for Jake. Cinnamon swirl for Bob. Lemon-lavender for Halo. Sweet mochi cookies for Reuben… and so on.

“If he doesn’t marry you, Marigold,” Rooster not-so-quietly announced, gesturing at Mickey with a cookie in his hand, “I will.”

It was then that Mickey had swooped in, looping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek, waving Rooster away with a,

“Yeah, yeah… she’ll definitely call you, buddy." Waving at the squad as he spun you and made to take your leave. "Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.”

–

Mickey's childhood room was, like the rest of his family home, like the man himself, warm. Belying a coziness you cherished in all spaces, replete with a checkered quilt on the bed that you were certain his mother had made. Posters bedecked the walls, shining with the grins of baseball and soccer players whose names you'd recognized from the backs of jerseys hanging in Mickey's side of your shared closet. Star Trek DVD sets on the bookshelf, nestled next to Tom Clancy novels. Model planes, jets, and Lego sets were intact and displayed – proudly, you were sure – on the desk. It was all so overwhelmingly Mickey, you were certain you were falling in love all over again, more pieces of himself falling into place in your heart. The nature of him, ensconced by his childhood, filling the gaps in your heart.

"It's, ehhh," Mickey scrubbed the back of his neck, placing your bag at the foot of the bed on the side he knew you'd preferred af home. "A little geeky, I know. Ma insists on not changing it."

"She shouldn't," you clarified. "It's perfect. It's you."

Mickey beamed at that, coming to your side and surveying the room from your perspective before shrugging his shoulders.

"It's more perfect seeing you here. Honestly, a pretty girl in my room? My sisters never thought they'd see the day," he chuckled, sweeping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder before gazing up at you through his lashes. "And I gotta say, cielo, it's doing a number on me, you being in here."

You batted your lashes at your beloved before patting his cheek,

“Easy tiger,” you breathed. “I’m not trying to disrespect your mother, or anything. We can wait til we're back home.”

"Yeah, about that," Mickey said, extricating himself from you and readying himself for bed. "My mom is probably still laughing at you for offering to sleep on the couch. They know we've been together for a while, babe. It's fine."

"Still," you hissed, shimmying out of your jeans and into your joggers, sliding beneath the covers. "It's… awkward, no? To be in your boyfriend's house, them thinking we’re like … hooking up in here?"

"If you feel that strongly about it," Mickey slid in beside you, leveling you with his best serious gaze, "you really should make more of an effort to keep your hands off me. Like, damn. Let a man sleep in peace."

You swatted his arm with the back of your hand, scoffing at him as he turned to turn out the bedside light.

"You're unbelievable."

"Tell me something I don't know, baby."

And it had to be some kind of record, really. How quickly you’d gone back on your own word.

As soon as you and Mickey had turned the lights out, he had wrapped his arms around you, and pressed a goodnight kiss to your lips, you were a goner. The rustle of sheets met your ears through the blanket of darkness that had fallen in Mickey’s room, his fingertips meeting the skin of your waist where your t-shirt had ridden up, his lips meeting yours in kind – a clandestine, weighted feeling that you often felt yourself lost in.

Mickey would often tell you that he felt a sort of gravitational pull near you – when you kissed him. That he was helpless to your gravitational pull, like the crashing tides. No choice but to worship you.

It was utter bullshit.

Utter nonsense. Because there was no way he could feel that way about you, when it was exactly how you felt about him, as he trailed his lips along the skin of your neck, feeling his way across your skin, through you, over you, the very heart of you. Rendering you slavish, devoted, insane. No choice but to heed to his beck and call, like the routine surrounding the permanence of a rising and setting sun.

At the breaking little whine shattering its way through your throat, Mickey smiles against your skin, knowing he’s won. His mouth is warm, kisses like rich cocoa against your silken skin as he slips his way down your body, a trail of teasing touches and toying temptations – leading with lips and tongue.

He presses his way down your body, pleased at the heavy sigh that pours from your throat like water in the desert as he slides the soft fabric of your t-shirt up your torso, allowing his lips to chase the mapping progress of his fingers – a path he’s travelled many times, but never feels the same, and never renders the exact same reaction from you.

“Fuck, cielo,” Mickey murmurs in reverence, his tongue swirling your nipple, the heat of his mouth and honey of his lips following. His hands slipping down your waist as he peppers kisses to the ridges of your ribs, the softness of your stomach. Shucking the quilt down to the foot of the bed as he makes his way between your now-parted legs.

His palms skated the skin of your thighs, your calves, your ankles, mumbling muffled endearments against your skin as his lips traversed to your hips, inching closer, closer, closer to your center. Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, with honeyed sighs, lashes fluttering and fingers lacing through Mickey’s curls as you acquiesced, always, to the pull of him, the swelling ocean tide sure to wash you away into the depths of him.

“You should feel how warm you are, amor,” Mickey’s lips were wistful and wanton, cruel yet comforting, as he pressed open-mouthed kisses heating the insides of your thighs. A perpetual tease, as tongue followed. “I bet you’re sweet, too.”

Mickey’s eyes met yours as he glanced up at you from between your thighs, glimmering with the dance of mischief and amorous intent. Pleased at the hitch of your breath evident in your chest, the fluttering of your lashes, the part of your lips.

God, you were well on your way to looking as wrecked as he felt.

Mickey smiled then, a splitting peal of glimmering happiness, before he endeavoured to shatter you – cheeky as he inclined his head to lick a firm stripe along the seam of you, through the dampened cotton of your underwear.

You yelped at the feeling, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle the too-loud noise that had shattered the relative silence of the room (save for your collectively heavy breaths), eyes wide at the sound that had spilled from you.

You tugged Mickey’s curls, beckoning him up as you hurried to close your legs – the moment shattering as you realized that once again, you had lost sense of yourself. And under his mother’s roof, no less.

“M!” you hissed, shuffling to readjust your clothing as you gently swatted at his pec, the small thwacking sound vindicating to your own traitorous ears as you attempted to recover from the embarrassment flooding through your body, heating your chest and cheeks. “Y-you … I can’t believe you. Zorro. Baboso.”

“H-hey,” Mickey was cupping his own pec where you had swatted at it, eyeing your fluster and bluster with barely-concealed mirth. “You wound me, baby. I was just trying to kiss you goodnight. I just wanted you to know I love you.”

“Sneaky little good-for-nothing,” you hissed, no malice in your voice as it spilled from lips that were trying, against your better senses, to tug into a smile. Shaking your head. “What would Ken Griffey Jr. think?” You tugged your shirt down, beckoning with pointed finger to the larger-than-life splashed likeness on the poster of the hall of fame ballplayer, staring down at the both of you, frozen smile ever-affixed. Not judgmental, but not-not judgmental.

“He’d high-five me for a home run?” Mickey shrugged.

“You’re shameless, you know?” You readjusted yourself under the covers, making a show of pulling them up to your chin, obscuring your body from his view.

“Well, what do you suggest we do instead,” Mickey queried.

“Um, sleep?”

“Baby,” Mickey’s voice was low, lilting – a slip of a tease in the wintery-darkness of his room. “I don’t, uhhh, think I can go to sleep right now.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, “I want to go on record as saying that this is a self-created problem, but because I love you …” you sat up, allowing the covers to fall to your waist, bending forward and cupping Mickey’s jaw, urging him to you to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Lie on your stomach,” you eased. “Let’s play the word game.”

The word game. Something you had invented with your siblings when you were little. When you were too hyper to sleep, filled with the sugar from Christmas cookies and hot cocoa, waiting for Santa Claus, urging the morning to come … you’d come up with the game to pass the time. A game you had passed on to friends at sleepovers, graduating to giggling wine-drunk iterations in college. And now to your beloved.

One of you would lie on your stomach, while the person that was “it” would pick a word or phrase, drawing each letter on the expanse of the other’s back. If the guesser chose the letter correctly, you would move on to the next letter, until they’ve spelled the word and identified it. Then you would switch

Now, with the twinkling of stars outside of Mickey’s window and the luminescent glow of the moon to light your way, you rubbed your palms along the smooth skin of his muscled back, perusing your mental catalog for your word. Mickey groaned beneath you, pleased at the feeling of your hands working their way along his skin, his contended exhalations leaving his lips like a purr.

“Ah,” you began, “I’ve got one. Okay.”

You traced an “R,” the curving bow of the letter causing a shiver to wrack through Mickey at the featherlight touch of your fingertip, the gentle scrape of your nail.

“Cielo, this is supposed to relax me, not turn me on,” he turned his head to the side, allowing it to rest on his arms so he could glare, balefully, at you through cocoa-swirled eyes.

“I can’t be breaking the rules if everything I do turns you on. Control yourself,” you replied primly, easing the sting of your jest with a sweet kiss pressed to his tanned shoulder. “I’ll draw again.”

“It’s an ‘R,’” he supplied, huffing. “Stupid, sexy ‘R.’”

You beamed, nodding so that he could see, before drawing the next. E.

As Mickey guessed each letter, you proceeded. Giggling at some of his mistakes, signaling wrong answers with a wiping, swirling motion along his spine, not unlike the sweeping shake of your head, until –

“Regalo,” Mickey guessed. Present.

“Bien,” you smiled. Rewarding your beloved with a sweet kiss to his lips, breezy and sweet like honeysuckle in spring.

“And what present did you get me, my love?”

“You’ll have to wait to find out,” you eased down next to him, cuddling into his side. “Or maybe my presence is the present. Either way, you’ll have to be good, or you get nothing.”

“Always,” Mickey murmured, the facile lovingness of your touch, the game, having lulled him some, easing into the routine of relaxing by your side.

Whether he was referring to you always being a gift, or that he was always good, you weren’t sure. And you didn’t ask, his evening-breathing suggesting that he was well on his way to drifting off – one step closer to dancing dreams of swirling ardor.

–

As you sat around in the morning with Mickey’s sisters in their matching sweaters, waiting to exchange gifts, they eyed you with something like mischief. A look you were all too used to seeing in their brother’s eyes.

Mickey was in the kitchen, chipperly helping his mother plate the pan dulce you had baked and pouring coffee. The sunshiney nature of early-birdedness seemed to be a Garcia family trait, you thought, as Mickey’s mother greeted you with a million-watt smile and a kiss to your cheek before ushering you to be comfortable by the tree.

“I heard the strangest thing last night,” Luci began, her lips curling into a grin. “Did you hear it, Oli?” She looked to the middle sister.

“Oh, yeah,” Olivia continued, knowingly. “Some noise coming from down the hall, like a strangled little cat. Very strange.”

“We don’t have a cat,” Eiza piped up, helpfully-unhelpful.

And if your face didn’t bely your embarrassment at Mickey’s sisters clearly having heard your little yelp from down the hall, you were sure that the heat rushing through your body might melt you, like a shameful wave of lava, bent on your destruction.

“Ehm,” you began, plucking intently at the very apparent little loose thread at the hem of your joggers…

“We’re teasing you,” Luci appeased. “Don’t worry. Quite honestly, the fact that you’d choose to be with that little nerd is astounding –”

“You’re too cool for him,” Eiza finished from her end of the couch.

“He’s, uhm,” you smiled weakly at each of his sisters, still recovering from the mortifying ordeal of having been put on the spot. “He’s pretty great.”

“Yeah,” Olivia rolled her eyes. “If you think Star Trek Christmas sweaters and talking about jets and G’s is cool.”

You shrugged. “I do.”

Mrs. Garcia and Mickey entered, then, distributing the steaming cups of coffee and reheated sweet breads. Your beloved pressing his lips to your temple as he pressed the warm mug into your hands.

“Buenas días, mija,” Mrs. Garcia greeted you, easing next to you on the couch.

“Good morning, señora.”

She knocked her shoulder gently into yours, smiling between you and Mickey, as he began to distribute gifts.

“Oh, M, give out mine first, please?” You urged, the little prickle of nerves from yesterday tickling at your throat (or maybe that was just the warm swallow of bitterly-strong coffee, just the way you liked it) as you were eagerly-anxious to see if his family liked your gifts.

Mickey nodded, passing soft wrapped packages to each sister – their names calligraphed on each tag in elegant, looping letters. Urging each sister to tear into the paper, an extra smile for Eiza as he passed her a firmer, square box.

Luci cooed over the hand-knitted scarf and hoop earrings, assuring you they were just the pair she wanted.

Olivia had beamed at the hand-painted mug, admiring the white oleander blooms you had painted. Thanking you for the book of poems.

Eiza shrieked at the pink gamer headset as she unwrapped it, looking up at you with awestruck, eager eyes.

“Now you can join M, Reuben and me on our Call of Duty nights,” you smiled. “You’ll need some face masks, though. We multitask our self-care.” You nodded at the box, urging her to check as she pulled out a pack of Korean sheet masks (the same that you had separately gifted Reuben). She swept you in a hug, promising to set up a time to play with you.

Mickey passed his mother a large, flat package, urging her to tear into the paper.

She ripped away the shining green, revealing a canvas with a watercolored likeness of your beachside home. The cerulean of the swirling ocean and the grapefruit-pink of the sunset stippled into in the background.

“She painted it, mama,” Mickey gestured to you, eyes swimming as he took in the pleased smile on his mother’s face.

“I just wanted you to have something, a piece of our home in yours, until you can come visit us,” you eased. “I hope you like it.”

Mrs. Garcia nodded, reaching to clasp your hand in hers. “It’s beautiful, my darling girl.”

Mickey’s sisters had gifted you with a stocking full of puppy goodies for Artoo. A set of bath bombs and a new sketchpad for you. Gifting Mickey with some games he had his eye on.

Senora eased her way up from the couch, pulling a small wooden box from beneath the tree and handing it to you.

You admired the hewn wood, popping the lid on the box to find a handful of recipe cards in what you recognized form letters and cards to be Mrs. Garcia’s handwriting.

“Just a few recipes for you – so the two of you can have them for your home. And start some of your own traditions.”

You thanked her, with teary eyes and a warm hug, all vestiges of worry set aside as you enmeshed yourself into the warm welcome of the Garcia home.

"You make him better, no?" Mrs. Garcia was sitting with you as Mickey packed up the car, his sisters twittering around him about taking leftovers (seriously, Shawn did not need that many tamales) and promising to FaceTime them after you and Mickey opened the rest of your gifts. The snippets of their conversations meeting your ears as you visited with his mother.

“-- I swear, Miguelito, you better marry her,” Luci’s voice caused your heart to lurch a little.

You turned your attention back to Mrs. Garcia,

"He makes me my best."

–

Artoo was overjoyed at your reunion. He leapt at your feet before you’d even had the chance to exit the car, his tail moving a mile a minute as he bowled over Mickey, licking at his face and his ears.

The two of you had settled into a lazy morning together, Artoo contentedly tearing into the stocking of gifts from Mickey’s sisters from his perch on the couch as you gifted Mickey with a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs – a Christmas morning breakfast tradition in your home.

“I like the shirt,” you acknowledged, beaming at the Mickey Mouse shirt that had been your birthday gift to him the prior year – a tradition of his own making, to wear the shirts you’d gifted him on Christmas. Each year a surprise as to which one he’d pick.

This year’s – a grinning Mickey hugging Pluto – a splash of color adorning Mickey’s torso. A welcome sight painting the picture of your holiday backdrop while you made chili-spiced hot cocoa as your father had taught you, the sweet tickle playing on your lips as you grinned at your boyfriend.

And it was a cosmic, karmic collision – something in the stars, you think. Watching him play with Artoo, watching him eat his breakfast, watching him pluck packages from beneath the tree, ready to give to you. And maybe it was the magic of the holidays – that tinges everything in evergreen romance, warm and sweet and cinnamon. But you think, perhaps, that it will always feel this way with Mickey – as though he was the sunshine in your wintery sky, iridescent and luminous.

“Here,” you passed a package to your beloved, waiting with bated breath and eager eyes as he set his cocoa cup aside and ripped into the paper, marveling at the bound graphic novel in his hands –

A full, illustrated edition of “The Adventures of Fanboy and Payback,” their space-exploration adventures that you had invented and drawn now captured fully, rather than in the piecemeal etchings you would stick into care packages when Mickey was away.

“Baby,” Mickey breathed, “you did all of this?”

“Well,” you worried your lower lip between your teeth. “The binding isn’t the best, but I tried. Do you like it?”

“Ah-mor,” he swept you off the couch and into his arms, his lips meeting yours, full and flush. “You literally made me a sci-fi hero. This is the best ever.”

“I’m so glad,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his tapered waist and squeezing. “You’re definitely my hero, M. Callsign: Romeo.”

Mickey chuckled, disentangling himself from you and pressing another kiss to your lips. Assuring you he loved it as he gently set aside the book as though it were made of glass, turning to pick up your gift.

Mickey gazed at you expectantly as you held the small, unexpectedly dense box in your palm, searching his face for any hint as to what could be in the box,

“Don’t –” Mickey started, trailing off as you gently shook the box, “shake it… Fine.”

You smirked, peeling the paper off the box and peering into it, met with the fiery hue of —

“An orange?” You query, lifting the small fruit from the box, its stippled rind leaving the pleasing, citrusy smell on your fingertips as you examined it. The blazing blue sticker on the side of the rind boasting the phrase, “Sweet Valencia.”

“Por supuesto, cielo.” Of course.

“Well, you know I love oranges,” you smiled at him. “Thank you, my love.”

“Cieloooo,” he snickered. “If we were to share it. To peel it in half, what do you have?” He pressed you.

You gazed at him, glancing between the orange in your hand and your beloved’s shimmering eyes, dark and luminescent as the night sky.

“A half of an orange. Is this a riddle? What am I missing?”

“Si, cielo, my brilliant, beautiful girl.” Mickey kneeled before you know, cradling your hand that held the orange in his palms. “An orange half. Mi media naranja.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

And it was one of your favorite things about the Spanish language, your favorite endearment. Embodied by the gift your boyfriend was handing to you now, the fiery-hued orb in your palms, perfect. The sweet smell of citrus tickling your nose.

Mi media naranja. His soulmate. Literally translated, mi media naranja – “my orange half,” in reference to you.

Mickey dropped your hand, turning to pick up the box you had gently set aside, plucking something from the bottom of the box before picking up one of your hands.

The coolness of metal slid along the ring finger of your right hand.

You tore your gaze down in time to see the coppery rosiness of a simple rose-gold band against the skin of your hand.

“I’m going to marry you one day, mi naranjita,” Mickey assured, looking between the ring on your hand and your starshine eyes. “Until then, consider this my promise to you.”

With your artist's eyes, you can appreciate the watercolor brushstrokes of the moment, the way in which you saw the world, textured and swirling. Rosy and perpetually-perfect as your lips met Mickey’s, tugging him toward you with a finger crooked in his silly shirt.

“You’re perfect, M,” you murmured into his mouth. “Impetuous … but perfect.”

You dragged Mickey down the hall, toward your bedroom, your lips fused to his as you made to peel the cartoonish shirt from his torso as you went, reveling in the firm feel of him beneath your fingertips.

When had the script flipped? You were beneath Mickey now, him rolling his hips into you, the sweet, heavy drag of him inside of you sinfully sweet as you tipped your head back to watch your beloved watching you. The tight heat of you squeezing around him, causing him to roll his eyes back, bucking his hips into you harder.

“Baby,” Mickey groaned, “you're so pretty it hurts.” He dragged his teeth over the column of your throat, soothing the stinging scrape of teeth with a pretty little brushstroke of his lips over the canvas of your neck. "I'll give it all to you – give you more, more, more …" he murmured into your skin as his thrusts became sloppy.

And watching you come apart, to shatter in his embrace, was the gift you kept on giving. One he’d never tire of as he spilled inside of you as you urged him to, “Please, baby, come inside me,” urging, urging. “I want it.”

He never stood a chance.

You draw your finger repeatedly along the curve of his nose, pressing kisses into his neck and begging him not to move from inside of you as Mickey rests his head on your shoulder, puffing exhalations evening into the deep, easy breathing of the satisfied.

And as you glanced down at the rose gold band on your hand – the simple little gift that held so much weight, you drifted to the afternoon you had spent with Mickey before leaving his mother’s home. The tour he’d given you around town, narrating the lives of the ghosts of his hometown as you drove past the movie theater where he’d had his first date; the park where he and some friends had gotten drunk as teens. Stopping to climb to the roof of the school building, to watch the late-afternoon wintery sunset.

"I wish you knew what it feels like," you sighed, carding your fingers through Mickey's curls, his head in your lap as the two of you watched the blaze of orange sunset turn purple like tufted cotton candy.

"What what feels like?" He asked tilting his chin to allow his eyes to prove your form, appreciating the fiery hues of the sky splashed against your skin.

"To love you," you glanced down, meeting your beloved's eyes with a smile.

Mickey's million-watt grin beamed back in response.

And perhaps that's the reason for the setting sun, you thought. It has no choice but to retreat in the face of something so radiant as your beloved's smile, a second fiddle at its own game.

"Oh, I have a pretty good idea, cielito" Mickey sat up, warm hands coming to cradle either side of your face, to appreciate the curve of your jaw as you smile at him -- little reminders how every part of you, delights in every part of him.

At your arching eyebrow, he continued, "After all, I know what it feels like to love you."

His lips met yours, the feel of his kiss like night-blooming jasmine, like petals against your wistful mouth -- eternal against the evening dusk of his hometown's little skyline.

Perhaps traveling for the holidays wasn't so bad.

some tags for my usual suspects: @joaquinwhorres @withahappyrefrain @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @justalonelyslytherin @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @siriusfahey @the-navistar-carol @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @thedaredevilsgirl @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid @maxmayfield @eagerforthesky @callmemantha @mxgyver @andrewrussgarfield @bioodforbiood @the-purity-pen @luxuryberzatto @liz-allyn @moonlight-prose @thegirlwhowritesfics @phoebe-danvers @jadore-andor @marvelousmermaid @spidervee @t-nd-rfoot

#mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey garcia x reader #fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #fanboy x cielo #mickey 'fanboy' garcia x reader #holiday fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #tgm fic #my writing #mickey fanboy garcia #Mickey 'fanboy' Garcia #danny ramirez

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thedroneranger · 2 years

Text

Puppies are Forever

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: Puppies aren't the only thing that last a lifetime.

Note: Another one for @notroosterbradshaw’s #hello december playlist challenge. I have zero chill and needed to write one for the Bradshaw Baddies 🖤 The song is Puppies Are Forever by Sia.

Warnings: Aging pet, sexually suggestive language, otherwise fluff

Word count: 2.8k

You and Bradley had already discussed it. Now, it just was just a matter of when—which you had not discussed.

Nervously, you wrung your hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. You glanced into the backseat where you were greeted with aging eyes and soft tail wags.

You knew the holidays were the worst time to get a pet.

“Puppies are forever.”

The phrase you used to say over and over to kids and parents who came into the shelter looking for the perfect present looped through your mind. Chewing your lip, you thought about how much Bradley would tease you, having been on the receiving end of the infamous phrase.

It was one of Bradley’s favorite memories to share: the day you and Clipper came into his life.

Bradley’s first week at Officer Candidate School had been particularly rough and included a dressing down from the school commander in front of his entire class.

Embarrassed and frustrated, Bradley decided he would blow off steam at the local country club’s driving range. Pretending each ball was the head of one of his instructors, he was about halfway through his basket when, in the distance, he could see a shape bouncing along the range.

It was a dog. While everyone was busy announcing the animal’s presence and yelling at each other to stop hitting balls, Bradley’s thumb and finger dipped behind his lips to unleash a shrill whistle.

Bradley watched as the dog’s ears perked up and it began a full sprint toward him. He whistled once more to keep the dog on track. As it neared, the dog slowed and postured cautiously. Hand out, Bradley crouched down, one knee on the ground, to welcome the dog. Tail slowly wagging, its nose came within centimeters of the back of Bradley’s hand—he could feel its warm breath. Slowly, Bradley flipped his hand to reveal an open palm. The dog took another sniff before pushing its nose into his hand. Still moving slowly, Bradley brought his hand to the dog’s chin.

“Is that your dog?” the man in the stall beside Bradley asked. Bradley shook his head as he continued to gain the dog’s trust. Intrigued, some folks continued to watch Bradley, while others went back to thwacking golf balls.

After a few words with the club general manager and getting his basket, clubs and range time comped, Bradley was walking the dog out of the clubhouse using his belt as a makeshift leash. The GM mentioned it likely sprung loose from the shelter a few blocks east of the club.

In zero rush to get back to school, Bradley and his new friend leisurely strolled in the direction of the shelter. Both were enjoying the attention from kids and glances from women. However, Bradley only had eyes for you once he entered the shelter and was met with your smile.

You were caught off guard when you looked at the door and saw the warmest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. Paired with his mustached grin, Bradley’s gaze had heat rushing to your cheeks. You quickly shifted your focus to his four-legged counterpart, whom you recognized.

“Clipper!” The dog reacted to your voice, whimpering and wagging his tail. Bradley undid the makeshift restraint, and Clipper raced toward you. Coming around the counter, you crouched with open arms, and Clipper nearly bowled you over.

Bradley was taken with your laugh as Clipper showered you with kisses. Bradley found himself wishing he were the one raining affection on you… “Thank you for bringing him back,” your voice interrupted Bradley’s thoughts.

His hazel eyes met yours. “You’re welcome.” His voice was deep and gravely. Feeling the heat in your cheeks again, you focused on petting Clipper. As excited as he was to see you, you could tell he really liked Bradley.

Clipper was a good dog that had yet to find his forever home. He was a medium-sized dog that definitely required an active parent. However, Clipper was six years old—he seemed ancient compared to the two- or three-year-old rescues that quickly found homes because they were still “young.”

Bradley also seemed to like Clipper. Based on his haircut and physique, you would wager he was in a dorm at one of the military schools in the area. You’d seen his type a million times around town. But he was different—you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but he had something you hadn’t encountered before.

“Clipper seems to really like you.” You looked between him and Clipper. Bradley offered a shrug and side smirk.

“I s’pose we have something going.” Bradley squatted down and Clipper swaggered over to him, nosing his open palm. You rested a knee on the floor as you watched them. Clipper rolled his head into Bradley’s hand as he scratched behind his ears.

For the next 13 weeks, Bradley showed up every day to exercise Clipper. If you weren’t there when he arrived, you usually were around when he returned.

Sometime during the first few weeks, Bradley finally worked up the gall to ask you out. Of course, Clipper came on your first date—a picnic at the park.

Since then, the three of you had been on many picnics in the park, runs along the beach and road trips around the country.

It was hard to believe it had been seven years since you and Bradley met that day at the shelter. And Clipper was by your side for every relationship milestone.

This was the least you could do for your best friend. Clipper watched as you put the truck in park and killed the engine. You slid out the driver door and opened the backseat door closest to Clipper.

You waited as he stood on the seat and shifted so you could hug all his limbs to put him on the ground. His tail wagged as you closed the door, and then you headed inside.

It only seemed right that you get Clipper’s companion from a shelter. You had already called ahead to confirm Clipper was welcome. Your nerves eased as a twentysomething woman welcomed you. It took you right back to your days volunteering.

What really made the time well spent was seeing energy in Clipper’s eyes and his step. He was aging—his runs were shorter and he was less willing to jump onto the couch, your bed or into the truck.

“I think we’ve found the one.” You and the shelter worker, who you learned was Liz, watched as Clipper ran with a similar-sized dog about half his age. You whistled and both came running. They heeled at your signal.

“What’s his name?” you asked.

“Hornet,” Liz replied.

Your smile widened. “You’re kidding.”

“You can always change his name. We typically don’t recommend it, but you can if you feel strongly.” You hadn’t told Liz your history, wanting to ensure you got the full adoption experience.

“No, it’s perfect,” you responded.

An hour later, Hornet was leaping out of the truck while you helped Clipper to the ground. Following Clipper’s lead, Hornet sat and waited as you collected your things. The pair was on your heel as you walked toward the house.

As you watched Clipper and Hornet bounce around the backyard, you knew Bradley would be thrilled when he returned from his deployment.

His return aligned with the holidays, and Hornet was as much a gift for Bradley as he was Clipper. Just as you were, Bradley was struggling with watching his best friend age. Clipper had been through every career milestone with him.

One of Bradley’s favorite photos was himself in full dress blues sitting next to Clipper, who had Bradley’s combination cap perched on his head. You knew the photo well—you took it at the first commendation ceremony you attended with Bradley. You had surprised him by bringing Clipper. Since it was outside, you called Pete to see if you could get away with bringing a furry plus-one.

With Hornet buzzing around the house, the final month of Bradley’s deployment was a breeze.

Along with his gift, Hornet, you wanted the house to be holiday ready when Bradley returned. You spent your evenings setting up the tree, stringing lights and wrapping gifts. Initially, Bradley was supposed to return a few days before Christmas. However, due to weather, among other things, you were expecting him back on Christmas Eve.

You giggled as you wrestled with Hornet to put the bow around his neck. Clipper watched you two from the couch—his bow already in place. Finally, Hornet allowed you to slip the ribbon around his neck and make it presentable. Unsure of Bradley’s arrival time, you knew odds were high it would be mangled by the time he saw it.

Recovering from your tussle with Hornet, you sat on the floor with your back against the couch. You sighed and sipped your wine. It was one of the first truly cold nights this winter. A northern girl always jonesing for an excuse to use the fireplace, you had built a fire and were enjoying the results. Between the wine and warmth, your eyes began to close.

Clipper laid on the couch near you with his head on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Hornet scooted on his belly up to you and rested his head in your lap. You told yourself you could close your eyes for a few minutes…

Bradley’s heart was racing as he clamored out of Rueben’s truck and collected his bags. He did one more check to make sure he had your gift. Duffle slung over his shoulder, he headed for the door as Rueben’s F-150 backed out of the driveway.

Wanting to surprise you, he had his keys at the ready and was as quiet as possible while letting himself in. He wasn’t worried about Clipper—somehow that dog knew who was coming in the door before they entered. He never barked when Bradley came home.

However, Hornet was another story. The minute he heard the key jiggle the lock, he announced Bradley’s presence. Bradley's eyebrows knitted together—that bark did not belong to Clipper.

Slowly, he cracked the door open, deciding to announce himself. “Honey, I’m home!” His voice boomed through the house. Hornet, already on alert, was the first to the door. Clipper pulled himself off the couch, knowing it was Bradley, and headed the same direction.

You jolted awake and jumped to your feet. Once you had your bearings, you ventured toward the door. “Who is this?” You heard Bradley ask. When you rounded the corner, you saw Bradley squatting down with Hornet between his knees, wagging his tail and reveling in the attention. Clipper stood a little further away, waiting his turn to greet Bradley.

“Hornet, Clipper’s companion,” you said.

A smirk graced Bradley’s face as he turned his attention to Clipper, who happily accepted ear rubs and a kiss atop the head. Bradley stood to greet you. “A dog for Christmas?” He teased as you walked into his embrace. You tilted your head back to meet his gaze and he placed a kiss on your lips.

Bradley’s hand slid to the small of your back. “Missed you,” he added as he kissed you again. Before you could respond, he circled back to Hornet. “I can’t believe you broke your own rule!” He looked down at the dogs. “Puppies are forever, remember?” They wagged their tails as if in response.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jaw—the highest point you could reach on your tiptoes. “That’s the plan.” You met his gaze as you returned to flat feet. Bradley had the same puppy dog eyes as the day you met. “Besides, Hornet is as much a gift for us as he is for Clipper.”

Bradley smiled. “Did you change his name?”

You shook your head. “That’s how I knew it was meant to be.” You looked at each other. Bradley kissed you again.

“Wine?” You asked.

“Yes,” he replied. You squeezed his arm before heading to the living room to collect your glass. Bradley grabbed his duffle and headed to the bedroom.

Clipper and Hornet followed him. He smiled when he realized they were trailing him. Bradley chucked his bag on the ground, slipped off his coat and dug the small box out of his pocket.

Quickly, he changed, and then knelt down with the box open so Clipper and Hornet could inspect the ring inside. “You’re not the only ones that are forever.” He patted both dogs on the head before standing up and pocketing the box.

You were busy in the kitchen, opening a bottle of champagne. “What are we celebrating?” Bradley and the dogs joined you.

“Your return,” you said as if it were obvious. Bradley came up behind you and gently took the champagne bottle. He easily palmed it, twisted the cork off in one fluid motion, and then handed it back. You snagged it by the neck and, with two flutes in your other hand, headed for the living room.

Bradley followed, helping Clipper onto the couch before settling in himself. Hornet jumped onto the couch cushion nearest you. You handed Bradley a healthy pour of champagne and nestled into his side.

“To you coming home to us.” You held out your glass. He gently touched his to yours, and you both drank.

Two flutes of champagne later, you were straddling Bradley’s lap, arms resting on his shoulders, fingers toying with the buzzed hairs at the base of his neck and your tongue in his mouth.

“I missed this,” he announced as you moved onto leaving wet kisses on his neck and nibbling on his ears.

“I can tell.” You acknowledged his growing hard-on.

Startled, you yelped and sat back. Bradley braced you so you didn’t fall off his lap. You were eyeing Hornet, and Bradley’s gaze followed yours. A soft smile pulled your lips as you scratched Hornet’s chin. “He licked my foot,” you chuckled.

You were used to Clipper, who thankfully respected yours and Bradley’s intimate time. You never took him for granted, especially when you heard the stories from friends of their furry counterparts howling outside the bedroom door or disrupting mid-thrust with a weirdly placed lick.

“He’s being a good wingman,” Bradley joked.

Your eyebrow crept up your forehead. “Oh, you didn’t like where this was going?”

Bradley laughed and put his hands on the tops of your thighs, looking directly at you. “Oh, I liked where it was going, but we’ll still get there.” He paused for a second. “But I wanted to give you your gift sooner rather than later.”

“Oh?” He piqued your interest.

Bradley reached behind Clipper, between the couch cushions, and pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat as he pulled back the lid, and then balanced the box on his large palm between the two of you.

Staring back at you was a marquise-cut diamond on a gold band. You recognized it from pictures of his mother. “Will you spend forever with me?” His hazel puppy dog eyes stared at you from behind the box.

You felt Clipper’s muzzle come to rest on your thigh. He was looking up at you and his tail lazily wagged. Hornet let out a little whimper and stacked his chin on his paws—he knew something was happening but wasn’t sure how to react.

You looked back at Bradley, who was still awaiting your response. Your bottom lip quivered, and you could feel the tears threatening to breach your lower lash line.

“Yes!” You leaned forward and kissed Bradley. He was smiling as you pulled away. Clipper and Hornet watched as Bradley slipped the ring on your finger. You wiggled your fingers as you admired it.

“It looks good on you,” he said.

You put your hand down and looked at him. “I’m happy you think I’m enough to wear it.” You adjusted yourself on his lap and let your forearms rest on his chest while you looked at him.

His arms pulled you closer to his torso, hands resting on the top curve of your backside. “You’re more than enough—you’re my girl.” It was his turn to press a kiss to your lips.

You smiled as you separated. “I guess old dogs are forever, too, eh?”

Bradley hummed, and ran his hands up your sides. “At least you can still teach me new tricks.” You laughed together and, as if on cue, Hornet popped up and swiped his tongue up Bradley’s cheek.

“That’s it,” he said teasingly. Bradley stood, and you slid off his lap. Unexpectedly, Bradley flipped you over his shoulder. Supporting yourself with your hands on his back, you looked at the dogs who hadn’t budged from the couch. “Clip, you gotta teach Hornet a thing or two about adult time.” You chuckled as Bradley carted you to your bedroom to properly seal your engagement.

#hello december playlist challenge #notroosterbradshaw #holiday fanfic #top gun holiday #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #Spotify

221 notes · View notes

filmtv2022 · 1 year

Text

All Series/Works Masterlist:

I'm going to compile my series masterlists & any standalone pieces that I write in this post (at least for now). The look of the list will change as I write more. Happy reading!

Please assume that ALL works are 18+

All reader pairings are written as female readers unless otherwise stated in the description

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(Series) To The Bitter End: Doc Holliday x Earp!reader (completed)

15 Chapters (word count - approx. 47k)

Story Summary: The youngest Earp sibling joins her older brothers in Tombstone with the hope that the new climate will ease her consumption/tuberculosis symptoms and reconnect her family. But as she settles into this new life, will she find something worth living for? Someone who can tame the loneliness? --------------------------------------------- (Series) By Your Side: Rhett Abbott x reader (completed)

23 Chapters (word count - 115k)

Story Description: Returning to Wabang was never something that Y/N had planned on, but with the loss of her father leaving her the sole owner of her family’s farm she must go back. Time spent at home forces Y/N to face the people she left behind. Will Y/N be able to navigate the murky waters of her past and present as the lines between them blur?

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(One-shot) One More Ride: Rhett Abbot x Reader

(18+ MDNI) Rhett & Y/N spend their last night in Wabang together. Pushing away the weight of the world by falling into one another's arms.

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(One-shot) When does it stop?: Jake Seresin x original character (reference to Bradley Bradshaw x original character)

Word Count - 397

Based on the thought of what would have happened if Bradley had been married before the Uranium mission, and Jake had been unable to save him and Maverick.

________________________________ (One-shot) Coming Home: Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x Reader

Word Count - approx. 5k

Story Summary: Mickey and Y/N are visiting Y/N’s hometown while away on leave. Shockingly, the pair find themselves invited to her childhood friend’s Halloween gathering. This might sound like a dream, but it’s been four years since Y/N’s had any real contact with her friend, but with a little encouragement she decided to face her fears and go. While Y/N expects awkwardness to ensue, she certainly never expected to catch a raging case of baby fever.

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(One-shot) Summer Haze: Robert 'bob' Floyd x Reader

Word Count: approx. 3k

Story Summary: After years of dancing around their feelings for one another, Y/N and Bob find their way back to one another at a community potluck.

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(Mini-series - Completed)

Together: Jake 'Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Together Part 2: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Together Part 3: Jake 'hangman' Seresin x Reader

Word Count: approx. 6k

Story Summary: Y/N and Jake have been friends since their time at the Naval Academy. The two of them acting as each others’ refuge during every up and down. But when a death in the family rocks Y/N’s foundation the two are forced to acknowledge the reality that their feelings for one another go far beyond just a friendship.

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(Series) Moving Foward Masterlist

Y/N Kazansky is many things. A loyal daughter, a world-class fighter pilot, and a fierce protector of those she holds most dear. But beyond the shiny exterior is a wounded woman looking to find her way back to the life she'd known and loved. When a mission brings her back to Top Gun, she is forced to confront the sins of her past while focusing on the uncertain future falling into place in front of her.

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(Series) (In the Bleak Midwinter)

Left with the dying wish of her husband, Y/N finds herself in Birmingham in search of one Thomas Shelby. Old wounds for both will be brought to light as the pair finds a way to heal from the hurt of the past together.

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(One-shot) Every Part of You - Aziraphale x Reader

(One-shot) Ineffable Agony - Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley (gender neutral reader)

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roosterscockpit · 2 years

Text

Friendsgiving | H.C |

click here to see the master list

Today’s double-post is an H.C 🫶🏼

Yet another H.C for you, Bradley, Leia, your friends, and the Dagger squad ❤️

Happy reading and enjoy! 💕 I love you all! 🫶🏼

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradley volunteered to host Friendsgiving at his house

Invited the whole dagger squad and your friends.

Bradley and you decorated his house with fall-colored leaves, warm-colored balloons, and small pumpkins.

Dinner was going to be held in his backyard. He set up tables and draped them with cream-colored tables clothes. He added rustic orange runners to the center of the tables.

You made centerpieces to apace out between the tables. The centerpieces consisted of mason jars filled with mini fairy lights, some twigs, and fake flowers. The flowers were an assortment of rustic orange, red, burgundy, cream, and yellow flowers.

Bradley laid out candles all along the center of the tables. Along with some extra little pumpkins you had left over.

Bradley laid out burnt orange circle placemats for everyone. On top of that was a nice big white dinner plate, burnt orange lap napkins folded with the gold cutlery neatly tucked inside of them, a mason jar for drinks, and little place cards that read everyone's names.

You and Bradley decorated Bradley’s backyard bar. You draped a “Friendsgiving” sign across the front of it. Bradley placed a variety of drinks everyone could help themselves to on the top of the bar. He decorated it with fake candles, flowers, and pumpkins.

Bradley set up chairs all around the table. At the head of the table, he set up the Rooster seat. You looked at it funny. “Who is being punished, Bradley?” You pointed to the seat. “This chair is for Daddy Rooster.” He slapped his hands down on the back which was in the shape of the Rooster. “Best seat in the house. Daddy gets the best seat.” He laughed.

You and Bradley stringed fairy lights all around the backyard for the aesthetic.

You set up an activity table. It consisted of disposable cameras so everyone can take pictures for you to develop later and place in a crab book. You also added a polaroid camera for quickly developing pictures. You added a bunch of wishbones on the activity table for everyone to pull with one another.

You and Bradley made a backdrop that was fall themed for pictures. You added a crate full of little nicknacks and hats to add some fun to the photos.

After decorating, You and Bradley worked hard in the kitchen. Bradley made the turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, salad, corn, and ham. You worked on the desserts. You made pumpkin, pecan, apple pie, cake pops that looked like turkeys, and cranberry crumble bars.

The three of you wore color-coordinating outfits. You and Bradley dressed Leia in a cream colored turtle neck long sleeve with a brown corduroy overall dress, and some black calf high Dr. Martens boots. You wore a cream strappy jumpsuit with a long brown cardigan and some platformed Dr. Martens. Bradley wore brown ankle-high dress pants, with a cream button-up short sleeve that was tight in all the right areas, and some 1461 Dr. Martens.

You added a couple of gold rings to your fingers for the outfit and a dainty heart necklace that had the letter B on it.

Bradley wore his gold rope chain and gold watch.

The dagger squad showed up all together. Your friends showed up altogether as well.

Bri and Billy brought a Mac and cheese casserole, Austin brought stuffing, Phoenix brought green bean casserole, Bob brought some deviled eggs, Coyote brought a sweet potato pie, Payback brought his famous cranberry sauce, Hangman brought his homemade artichoke dip and some chips, and Fanboy brought his appetite.

Everyone set their dishes down on the dinner table and their desserts on the dessert table.

Everyone mingled and had some wine while waiting for the rest of the dinner to come out of the oven. Everyone utilized the backdrop, polaroid, and disposable cameras as they waited.

When all the food Bradley had made was ready, all the guys helped him bring it out and set it on the table.

Everyone saw the Rooster seat. “I knew it would grow on him.” Fanboy shook his head and laughed at the chair.

Bradley pulled yours and Leia’s chair out for you to sit. He pushed you both in and set your napkins in your laps before he kissed your heads and took a seat ahead of the table. You sat to the left of Bradley. Leia to the right. Next to you were Bri, Billy, Bob, and Payback. Next to Leia, Austin, Phoenix, Fanboy, and Coyote. At the other head of the table sat Hangman.

You all joined hands and Bradley said a little thanks before dinner.

“Thank you everyone for coming and joining together to have dinner together for an early Thanksgiving. I am truly thankful to have each and every one of you in my life. I am especially thankful for my girls. Without them, life wouldn’t feel as extraordinary. I’m grateful we are all happy and healthy. I hope everyone brought their appetites! Let’s have a great night!”

Everyone went around the table saying what they were thankful for. Bri was grateful for her love Billy, Billy was grateful for Bri, Bob was grateful for choosing to be in the navy to meet all of you, Payback was grateful to be a part of yours and Bradley’s life, Hangman was grateful to be Bradley’s right-hand man, Austin was grateful for the little lady he was sitting next to… or both, Phoenix was grateful for you finally loving Bradley, Coyote was grateful to be surrounded by his second family since he was away from his, and Fanboy was grateful that Bradley was using his chair and for the food.

Bradley raised his glass and you all followed. All together you cheered, “To family, health, and love.”

You all stuffed yourselves into a food coma, But still had enough room for all the desserts.

Everyone helped themselves to the bar. Fanboy and Bob were white girl wasted. One of the disposable cameras was filled with photos of those two having the times of their lives.

Leia took pictures with everyone at the backdrop. Her favorite picture was of her and Hangman. He had a headband with a turkey on it and was holding Leia in a princess carry. He had Leia dipped down slightly, her feet higher than her head. Leia wrapped one arm around Hangman’s neck and the rest of her limbs spread out. She wore a flower crown croakily on her head. Hangman made a screaming face with his eyes wide and mouth wide open. Leia was smiling big and laughing.

Everyone made their way inside for games. The first game was Pie Face. Everyone took turns and whoever got whip cream to the face had to take a shot. Bob kept wanting to take over when anyone started to get close to getting the whipped cream to the face. He just wanted everyone's shots.

“The innocent one doesn’t look like a drinker,” Bri whispered to you. You smiled, “Just with family.”

Leia fell asleep on the couch. Bradley brought her up to his room so she could be away from the noise.

The next game was charades. Phoenix had to act out licking ice cream. She made the motion and movements. She looked around as everyone held their tongue. She threw her hands up and were pointing at people.

Hangman covered his mouth and shook his head. “Sorry, Nix. No.” Payback laughed, “I think I might know, but I’d rather not say.” She pointed at drunken Bob, “You look like you’re-” You covered his mouth. Fanboy started to laugh loudly, “I was thinking the same thing Bob!” You covered his mouth too. She pointed at Austin, he was clearly buzzed. He looked around and bit his lip. “You look like my next girlfriend?” Bradley slapped him playfully on the chest and they laughed together. Phoenix blushed.

“SHE’S EATING ICE CREAM FOR GOD'S SAKE. SICK-Os!” Bradley huffed out obnoxiously laughing.

After the games, Phoenix took care of Bob and Fanboy. Everyone else helped clean up the house and backyard.

By the end of the night, Bri and Billy brought home drunk Austin.

Hangman, Coyote, and Payback left back to the barracks together.

You and Bradley offered Phoenix to stay at the house with Bob and Fanboy.

Bradley carried drunk Bob over his shoulder up the stairs to the spare bedroom. He then came and carried passed-out Fanboy to the same room. Bradley slept in the spare room in a sleeping bag with his boys.

You, Phoenix, and Leia stayed in Bradley’s room.

“Best Friendsgiving ever, Y/n. Thank you for having us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you all enjoyed it! I love you all so much! Happy Holidays! Be safe, always! *smooches smooches*

My cute tags are in the comments! ❤️

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fangirling-tussisque-noncaelatur · 1 year

Text

Hangman: *wiggling his eyebrows and grinning* Whoah... Rooster and I must have pulled over five times on our way to Christmas dance.

Coyote and Phoenix: *blink*

Bob: *nodding* It's always best to drive defensively over the holidays.

Coyote and Phoenix: *sigh and shake their heads*

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demxters · 1 year

Note

can i get a christmas with rooster hc 💗

congrats again my love!

a/n: ty anna!! also first time writing for rooster, but i love him nonetheless (after this i am also not opposed to writing more him hehe)

tw: mentions of death [carole/goose :((], one mention of having kids

A Very Bradshaw Christmas with Rooster would include...

*gif credit @pohjanneito

bradley 'rooster' bradshaw aka mr. christmas

when i tell you he is the most festive person known to man, i mean it

bradley 1000% pulls out the christmas decorations the second thanksgiving is over

in fact, it becomes tradition for the two of you to stay up until midnight after thanksgiving dinner to decorate your place for christmas

in the beginning, you thought it was quite silly, how seriously he took the holidays

it wasn't until after spending a few christmases with him that he opened up to you about it

"some of my best memories are from the holidays... it's when i remember my family at their happiest."

while decorating that night, you begged him to share his favorite moments with you

the far off look in his eyes and the fond smile on his lips made it clear that he missed his family more than he let on

so this christmas, you planned to make it as memorable for him as you possibly can

"my dad and i would sit at the piano and sing christmas songs for my mom while she prepared dinner. he would put on quite the show even if it was just us three at home."

you had arranged a little christmas sing along in honor of nick bradshaw

you invited the dagger squad out that night and printed out some sheet music of rooster's favorite christmas songs and gave it to penny to place on the piano

when the two of you arrived the hard deck you dragged him straight to the piano where the rest of his friends were already gathered

you sat at the piano bench and patted the seat beside you as you beckoned him over

"sing me a song, sailor," you teased

always for the dramatics, he let out an over exaggerated sigh before taking a seat next to you while his friends all hollered

bradley's eyes danced over the sheet music for "sleigh ride", quizzically, but he played it anyway

after the first song was over, you flipped through the pages and pulled out "christmas (baby please come home)" which was carole bradshaw's favorite

being as smart as he was, rooster immediately realized what you were doing and you swear you have never seen his eyes shine so bright

he played through the songs with ease and was a little sad once it was over though he didn't mind that you had shifted into his lap at the end of the night

"has anyone told you that you have the voice of an angel?" you muttered in your sleepy daze

"i've been told that i sound more like a chicken."

"well, whoever told you that is wrong because you're an angel. my angel."

if you had been wide awake you would've been able to see the tips of his ears turn red at your words

"i used to help my mom make her special gingerbread cookies. she promised to tell me her secret recipe when i started a family of my own. i never thought she'd wouldn't be here to see it."

the week leading up to christmas, you told bradley you were out gift shopping when you were really at penny benjamin's every afternoon

you asked mav if he knew about carole's gingerbread cookies, which made him light up like a child

he told you carole gave him a box every year

he unfortunately had no idea how to make them, but he did offer to help you replicate the recipe as best as he could

it's how you found yourself surrounded by twenty batches of cookies in penny's kitchen

"i think batch three tasted closer than batch seventeen."

"which one was batch three again?"

in the end, you settled on batch fourteen

maverick's wavering confidence didn't help soothe your nerves, but he swore up and down that the cookies tasted almost exactly like hers

when you finally made them for bradley, you burst into tears

"i think they need some more sugar, hun."

"so they don't taste like your mother's?"

"were they supposed to?"

he realizes his wrong choice of words when hot and heavy tears started to stream down your face

you practically crumbled to your knees then causing bradley to fall onto the floor and scoop you up into his arms

he cradles your head into the crook of his neck and whispers soft apologies into your ear

"no, i'm sorry. i knew i shouldn't have trusted mav when he said 2 cups of salt. i'm sorry they're not your mom's."

"honey, they may not taste like mom's but they're yours. and sure maybe they are a little salty, but i love them anyway because you made them."

"you sure?"

"promise. though i hope you don't mind if i give the rest of these to hangman. tomorrow how about we try to recreate them together, yeah? i think my sense of taste might be a bit better than mav's."

"and when it was finally christmas, we would get together with all of our family and friend's to exchange gifts."

the festivities of the night had finally died down with amelia knocked out on the floor while penny and maverick were cuddled up on your sofa sifting through the gifts you gave them

you and bradley were in the kitchen, cleaning up the rest of the dinner dishes

"hey honey, can i ask you something?"

"hmm?"

"did you try to replicate my family's christmas traditions?"

he must have seen the way your face immediately fell because he's dropping the dishes back in the sink and running to your side

"i just wanted to do something special for you. i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable or sad i just thought you'd like it. i'm sorry if i crossed a line, i won't do it again."

he's cupping your face, bringing your gaze to meet his

"i did like it, hell i loved it. i was just thinking, what if we started our own family traditions? new ones?"

he gets down on one knee and the gasp you let out is so loud that penny and maverick are rushing over

"i already had a ring picked out and everything, but i can't wait anymore. i can't believe you did all of that for me. when it hit me, i realized i want to spend all my christmases with you. i want to make new bradshaw traditions with you and our own family. will you marry me?"

you crash into him, almost sending him onto the floor

he catches you with ease and you press your lips to his

when you pull away, you press more to every inch of his face, muttering an excited "yes!" in between each one

"bradley bradshaw, i will marry you."

penny and maverick gather the two of you in their arms, fawning over and congratulating you both

amelia pouts when she hears bradley completely ditched their plan and spontaneously proposed (she was still happy for you, nevertheless)

you and bradley spend every christmas after creating new traditions, eventually passing them on to children of your own

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #holiday headcanon sleepover

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

Secret Santa

Winter Whumperland: Day 6. Shared Holiday Meal

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader, Simpson!Reader

Summary: With everyone heading home for the holidays, the Daggers decide to throw a last-minute holiday party before they leave. And your secret Santa takes you by surprise.

Word Count: 1758

TW: Fluff

Notes: This idea started out as more of a group fic (hence the header) but slowly transformed into a Rooster fic as I wrote it.

It was a Christmas miracle that the entire Dagger Squad was somehow able to all get leave for the holidays. It was almost unheard of but no one wanted to ask any questions in case someone realized a mistake had been made. And so, tickets home to visit family had been purchased all around and everyone began to pack their bags to leave.

Only two members of the squad were staying in town. Rooster had agreed to spend the holidays with Mav, Penny, and Amelia. It was the first time in over fifteen years he would be spending the holidays with his godfather and both men were secretly very excited about the idea. And you were staying near North Island to spend the holiday season with your father. As the Air Boss at Top Gun, it wasn’t surprising that Cyclone wasn’t able to get Christmas day off, yet he had managed to work it out so he would be able to be home early. It was more than you usually got with him so you were beyond thrilled.

And yet….

It was amazing how close all of you had become in the last few months. While most of you had known each other either personally or by reputation before the Dagger Mission, the bonds that formed between the members of your team were stronger than any of you had experienced in past assignments. Personally, you chalked it up to Mav’s training and focus on teamwork and support. But regardless of the reason, the Dagger Squad had become its own small family.

Which was what made the fact you were all going to be scattered across the country for the holidays so bittersweet. You were all going to be with one family but leaving another behind. Which was why everyone immediately got on board when Bob suggested a mini-Dagger Christmas the night before everyone left.

It was decided they would hold a potluck dinner where everyone brought their favorite holiday treat. Payback organized a Secret Santa and had everyone draw names from his helmet when they were leaving training (Hangman had offered to do it, but no one trusted him not to put his name down on every slip of paper). Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy took charge of the decorations while Coyote created the perfect holiday music playlist (yet another job everyone refused to let Hangman do). Rooster agreed to pick up the alcohol from the Hard Deck after you somehow managed to talk your dad into letting you hold the party in the rec room on base. For such little planning time, everything seemed like it came together flawlessly.

That was until you arrived. The room looked amazing. Strings of lights, tinsel, and ornaments covered the walls while large paper snowflakes hung down from the ceiling. A table had been set up along the back wall for the food and drinks so you quickly headed back there to deposit your plate of cookies.

But when you reached it, you stared at the items all laid out and sighed loudly. “Jake.”

Hangman crossed the room to where you were standing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wasn’t your job to make sure everyone was bringing something different?”

“Uh, if I remember correctly, you just said to find out what everyone was bringing and make a list.” He grinned widely. “I think everyone made excellent choices.”

You groaned as you looked back at the table which was filled with nothing but eggnog and a variety of cookies. So much for dinner.

“The eggnog on that end of the table is already spiked.” He pointed towards the six bottles to the left. Then pointing to the only small bottle on the right, he added. “That one is plain.”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Good to know. I’ll make sure to tell Bob.”

Hangman grabbed a gingerbread man from the plate at the center of the table. With a wink, he snapped off the head between his teeth and said, “And don’t forget to try one of these. They’re an old Seresin family secret recipe.” And then he walked off to where Coyote was hooking up the speakers.

You groaned again as you scrubbed your hand over your face. It really shouldn’t have surprised you that Hangman would do this and if you had to guess, he probably even encouraged others to bring one of the two items in front of you.

“It’s okay. I just ordered a dozen pizzas and they should be here in about an hour.”

You looked up in surprise to see Rooster suddenly standing next to you. “You didn’t have to do that. That must have cost you a fortune.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I put it on Mav’s card.” Rooster said.

Laughing, you said, “Remind me to thank him later.” Poking Rooster in the chest, you added. “Great sweater by the way. Very appropriate.”

Rooster looked down at the giant chicken wearing a Santa hat that was on his chest. “Thanks. I saw it and couldn’t resist.”

The two of you stood in silence for a minute, each munching on a cookie. But just as you finished yours and was about to excuse yourself, Rooster pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and offered it to you. “I’m not sure how we are doing this, but this is for you. I’m your secret Santa.”

“Oh!” you said in surprise. “Thank you.”

Taking the envelope, you tore it open and peered inside. Your jaw dropped as you looked back up at him. “Are these…”

Rooster smiled as he nodded. “I know you were talking about how bummed you were that the concert sold out before you could get tickets. Merry Christmas.”

Still in shock, you removed the two plastic cards and the attached lanyards. “Rooster, these aren’t just tickets. These are backstage passes. Don’t tell me you put these on Mav’s credit card too?”

“No, then it wouldn’t have been a gift from me.”

“You realize we had a $20 gift limit. This is so, so much more than that!”

He shook his head. “Technically, I didn’t pay for them. I have a buddy from an old deployment who is working private security now, including for that concert. He owed me a favor so I just made a few calls.” He shifted slightly. “I hope that doesn’t lessen the gift.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “Are you kidding? Of course not! This is absolutely amazing. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome. I’m glad you like them.” He patted your back softly, clearly surprised by the hug. You pulled back to see his face had turned red underneath his mustache.

Releasing him and taking a step back, you said, “Man, now I just feel bad all I got Coyote was a dart board to set up in his dorm.” Looking down at your present again, you held up the passes. “Who is the second one for?”

Rooster shrugged. “Whoever you want. I figured you might have more fun if you have someone go with you.”

“Would… would you want to go? I mean, you did get them for me and pretty much everyone else I know around here will still be gone on leave. But if you don’t want to–”

“No. I’d love to go with you.”

You blinked in surprise. “Great! Um, yeah. We can figure out the details later but it’s a date!” You felt your cheeks grow hot. “I mean, not a ‘date, date’, just that we have set a date for us to do something. Together. I–I’ll stop talking now.”

“I got what you meant,” he said with a small smile.

You smiled back. Just then, Phoenix called to Rooster from the other side of the room. Glancing over, you said, “Looks like you’re needed. But thank you again. This really is the best Christmas present anyone has ever gotten me.”

“You’re welcome. And Merry Christmas.”

Rooster started to walk away but as he passed you, you reached out and grabbed his arm. Then you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. His face grew bright red once more but he smiled brightly at you. Then you released his arm and he walked over to Phoenix.

The rest of the evening went great. Once the pizzas arrived, no one really seemed to mind the overabundance of cookies and eggnog. When Mav and Penny showed up later in the night, everyone yelled “Thanks for the pizza” as they walked in. The bewildered couple just smiled and nodded as they exchanged glances. Rooster explained later and everyone had a good laugh about it.

Coyote loved his gift but told you not to tell Hangman about it. He wanted to practice in secret so he might finally be able to beat the other aviator. You promised and told him to let you know anytime he wanted someone to play against.

It was just before midnight when you saw your dad slip into the room. No one else seemed to have noticed Cyclone grab a drink and a few cookies before retreating to the back corner. Excusing yourself from your conversation with Bob and Phoenix, you walked over to him.

“Hey. Glad you could make it.”

He nodded. “I was just about to leave for the night and figured I would stop by to make sure you all hadn’t destroyed the place.”

“I would be mad you thought so poorly of us, but honestly, that doesn’t sound too unimaginable,” you laughed. Then you bumped your shoulder against his arm. “Thanks for arranging it so everyone gets to go home for Christmas. I know how much that means to all of them.”

He took a sip of his eggnog. “Yeah, well, they deserve it after what they accomplished this year.” Turning to look at you, he added, “Sorry you’re stuck here for leave. But I do appreciate you staying so we can spend the holidays together.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a big hug. “Of course! This is the first time we’ve both been stateside for Christmas in years. I wasn’t going to miss the chance to celebrate with you.”

He squeezed you back. “Thanks, kiddo. I’m just sorry that I still have to work for most of your leave. It seems like such a waste of your time off.”

You caught Rooster’s eye from across the room and he gave you a shy, but warm smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @airhogger, @notroosterbradshaw, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @fangirlinc, @sparrows-corner, @therebeccaw, @mads-weasley, @trencher4lyfe, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @maggie8002sq, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @tellrock35, @shanimallina87, @mak-32

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #shared holiday meal #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #miles teller #f!reader #simpson!reader #fluff

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

Secret Santa

Winter Whumperland: Day 6. Shared Holiday Meal

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader, Simpson!Reader

Summary: With everyone heading home for the holidays, the Daggers decide to throw a last-minute holiday party before they leave. And your secret Santa takes you by surprise.

Word Count: 1758

TW: Fluff

Notes: This idea started out as more of a group fic (hence the header) but slowly transformed into a Rooster fic as I wrote it.