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valmare · 1 year

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Congrats!!!! How about "You're the most gorgeous person here" with Bradley!

Oh lord, Em. I love this so damn much. Hopefully I do this justice, Rooster Queen! Enjoy your Bradley, and thanks for being a follower, love!

Kiss Me Hello

“Roo? That you, Bradley?”

Rooster can hear the smack of the screen bouncing off the back door frame as your voice chimes through the back of the house. His eyes search for you through the house for a moment as he drops his gear at the door, reaching to scratch at the ears of the dog that nearly killed himself to beat him to the front door.

Without warning at all, the beagle he’s attempting to greet throws himself around at the sound of your voice, tail helicoptering him down the hall as his claws scramble for purchase that isn’t there on the wooden floor.

With a baleful howl Gander disappears around the corner, in search of his momma, who’s voice lifts in that high-pitched, baby way at the sound of him.

Rolling his eyes at the baby talk you’re giving the dog somewhere in the house, he drops to a knee to begin unlacing his boots, listening to you traverse the house looking for him.

Rooster immediately notices the boxes hanging out against the wall by the closet, new additions to the space that weren’t there this morning. Beyond the mudroom, in the hallway leading to the kitchen, there’s plastic bins marked what he thinks says KITCHEN in your familiar chicken-scratch cursive, though he’s never been able to decipher your handwriting, even after two years of hand-written honey-do lists, notes, letters, and general over-your-shoulder peeking.

Gander is bouncing in excitement, leading you down the corridor toward the front mud room, until you’re leaning against the corner, smiling at him with bright eyes and what looks like paint stained across your forehead and nose.

“Hiya,” you beam at him, dropping into a squat to rub the dog’s ears as Bradley is kicking off his boots, “You’re home early,” you check the clock on the phone that’s hanging out in your back pocket before slipping it in the top of your bra, standing to intercept his hug hello. “It’s only 3. Mav cut you loose for the weekend?”

Your arms are snug around the back of his neck and you draw up on your toes as he wraps his around your waist, dragging you closer against him until your hips are flush with his.

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a small smile as he takes in your appearance—contacts today, probably in favor of the sunglasses perched in your hair, and this close he can tell you’re wearing that tinted moisturizer stuff you really like. It’s doing a terrible job of hiding the slight sunburn on your nose.

You’re not wearing a stitch of any other makeup, which is a little unusual for you. You usually always have mascara or at least some kind of glossy balm or some shit on your lips. Bradley suddenly wishes he’d been home all day, like he does every day, with you to see what you’ve been up to—he’s infinitely curious about the paint on your face, and lifts a hand to thumb the smear on your forehead.

It’s actually spackle. Like, wall spackle. There’s a blip of disappointment that hits his radar, knowing that you’ve actually gone ahead and spackled holes in the spare bedroom without him. It lasts seconds, maybe, before you reach up to kiss the corner of his mouth in that sweet, sloppy way.

He’d wanted to help you with this. It’s one of the projects you’d been hoping to complete before the two of you actually finished the moving process—the room was going to be your in-home office, and the excitement you’ve been exuding about finally having it finished had only been a topic of discussion and pride since you’d purchased the house.

Disappointment is replaced nearly immediately when he realizes that he’s married probably the best woman on the planet. You’ve always been that girl that doesn’t need him, but wants him. Allows him into your world.

Ever since the first date he’d known you were capable of standing on your own two feet with that screwed-on-straight head of yours, boldly independent and determined.

Bradley remembered your second date. He’d probably remember it even in his old, forgetful age, because the humiliation would probably haunt him at least that long. He’d taken you to the South Bay Drive In, thinking it would be a cute second date, after dinner and a walk.

The Bronco had never given him so much trouble until that morning, but he’d figured it was just a fluke and had tossed some coolant in the radiator. No big deal, he’d have his guy check it out later. Thankfully he’d parked no problem, and the two of you had enjoyed the movie, or, what glimpses of it you’d actually managed to watch between talking and swapping life stories.

Rooster had been so enthralled with the animated way you talked with your hands, the expressions on your face, how your tone deepened and lifted when you imitated other people that he couldn’t even remember the movie looking back.

He’d just sat, parked in the driver’s seat, head plunked in his hand, listening to you. Then and there he’d known he could listen to you talk forever and die a happy man. Really, Bradley was sure that date was the date that he’d known he was a goner—you’d stolen his heart in the front seat of his dad’s precious truck, wearing jeans and tank top with your hair pulled up in a cute little bandanna and earrings. He couldn’t think of anywhere better to realize he was in love with you.

Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to take you home he’d started the Bronco, and you’d excused yourself to the restroom before leaving. Idling, thinking you were the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he hadn’t even noticed the temp gauge steadily tick up. It was only when the needle was pegged over 230 and the front of the Bronco was smoking that he realized the damn thing was overheated.

Scrambling to open the hood, you’d arrived just seconds before he was ready to pop the radiator cap. Smacking his hand away violently, you’d screeched “Bradley, no!” like some kind of pterodactyl or shit, hip-checking him aside to stand in front of the motor, hands on the frame of the front fascia as you checked things over. Hands up in surrender, he’d asked you what the big deal was.

“If you’re trying to ruin that pretty face of yours with an explosion of hot coolant, you were close,” you’d said with that little accent of yours that he’d come to absolutely love, “I like the scars you’ve already got, Roo—just don’t add to the collection if you can help it, mkay?” You’d turned, ran your thumb over the faded trace of a pink line on his chin, and winked.

Within a few minutes of bending over the motor delicately, not to get your clothes dirty, you’d determined that one of the coolant lines had completely disintegrated, coolant seeping through the twists and bends of the motor to the parking lot beneath. He was flabbergasted, in awe of you, and so damned turn on that he’d been sure you’d notice the semi aching between his legs.

You hadn’t. You were too good for that, way too sweet to say anything even if you had. Flattening your lips, you’d closed the hood with a sigh, slipping your hands into the front pocket of your jeans as your shoulders lifted, almost sheepishly. He’d asked you if there was any other damage, guessing you knew what you were doing—he didn’t, he wasn’t really a grease monkey to any extent.

He liked to think he was a wrencher, but you’d made quick work of that assumption.

“The old girl needs some coolant lines, but she’s definitely not hot enough to cause any damage. You’re lucky. The engine looks pretty nice, for a Ford.” He’d had the thought to be insulted by the proposed argument you’d baited him with, but your slow smile and another wink had just unraveled him instead, sending the hot blood pumping through his veins straight between his legs.

He’d called Jake, and Hangman had picked you both up at the drive in, in his Ram. That had perked you up.

You’d chatted animatedly about the pickup the entire ride back to your car, which they’d left at the pier, Bradley only a slight shade of green at the way Jake flowed in and out of the conversation about cars so easily.

Hangman had helped him pick up his rig the next day, chuckling as he’d clapped a thick hand on his his shoulder seconds before Bradley dipped beneath the car to hook up tow cables, “Quite the honey you’ve got yourself there, Rooster. I like her. A lot.”

“And that matters because….?”

“Because, since I’ve known ya, you’ve got the same taste in women as you do cars—shitty.” His eye-roll had split the man’s face into that dazzling, shit-eating grin of his, “But she—shit, Bradshaw, she’s a keeper.” He’d whistled between the break in words, head slowly shaking. “You lose that one and it’s fair game for the rest of us, bud.”

The mere idea of Hangman even insinuating going after you had him nearly vibrating. But the entire scenario had him reeling between embarrassment and pride.

He can laugh about all of it, now, because there’s no way you’d be leaving him any time soon for Hangman, but—there’s still that knife of embarrassment that digs into the mesh of his ribs. A wiggle of apprehension in his brain that he’s the lucky one. Doesn’t deserve you, because you’re fucking amazing. That you’re too good for him, always have been, and someday will wake up and remember that.

Warmth from your body against him spreads through his blood, and Rooster tightens the arm around your waist. You’re leaning against him a little harder now, fingers from your one hand playing with the curls at the base of his neck. Tension from the day in the air, from the memory of Seresin nearly promising to steal you, begins to bleed from his shoulders.

“Keepin’ busy, baby?” His eyes cut to the white paste on his thumb and yours follow, and he flexes his thumb to emphasize the point, “Something you want to tell me?” Bradley isn’t actually concerned with what you’ve been doing all day by yourself—the playfulness in his tone matches the curious lift of his brow, and it’s making you smile that wondrous smile that levels him every time you share it.

Color suddenly flares to life on your cheeks and you look away, to your chest snugged up against his. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?” You lift a hand to smooth the curls hanging out in a top knot, which he doesn’t understand, because your hair, like always, looks perfect–even if it’s that effortless, messy perfect.

You seem to remember you’ve been painting and spackling, and that he’s wearing his flight suit, because you nearly jump back from him, checking down the front of yourself, an arm leaving its embrace around his neck to swipe down the front of your shirt.

Eyes cutting up to consider the front of his uniform, your blush and the way you gasp is nearly frantic.

“Bradley! Your flight suit!” You hiss under your breath, moving to brush your hand over his chest, where absolutely nothing has disturbed the decorum stitched into the damn thing. He’ll never convince you it’s fine—you take more pride in his clean flight suit than the damn Navy or any CO he’s ever seen.

“Damnit, I didn’t even think—”

He’s laughing at you, “Baby, it’s fine—”

“It isn’t fine!” You protest, your remaining arm around his neck falling away as you pick at the dried spackle and paint staining your shorts and bare legs. Your eyes track to him, head popping up before you wave your finger over the length of his body, “Here. Strip it off, I’ll put it with the stuff to take back to the apartment. I’ll wash it tonight and you can take it Monday.”

That sounds like more work than necessary—laundry in your apartment is on the first floor, and you’re on the third floor, which means you’ve been hiking laundry back and forth the four years you’ve lived in the damn place. He has other suits on base, in his flight locker, and he can launder them himself—he’s been doing it since before you came into his life. Kind of a pro at it, really.

But, since being married, you’d become nearly obsessive about the basic duties of domesticity—you cooked for him. Cleaned the apartment, even though he’d been living out of a duffle since moving in, waiting for your lease to expire. You did the laundry. He’d had to fight you to take over the bills and finances, otherwise you’d do that too.

Rooster hadn’t ever had a wife before, but he was sure that sharing last names didn’t make you his live-in maid. He would’ve been ecstatic if all you’d done is cook. Not that he was ungrateful, having someone who cared and cleaned his house was nice, but—it wasn’t expected. He was as capable of cleaning the bathroom as the next guy. Actually he enjoyed cleaning, he was a neat freak.

When he’d failed to do as instructed, you stepped up to reach for the zipper on his suit. “Rooster, I said—” He grabs your wrist, halting the action. You blink at his hand around your wrist.

“Bradley, c’mon—”

“I know what you said,” he challenged softly, eyes firmly holding you as the corner of his mouth lifted in a small, knowing smile. “Can you quit being Betty Crocker for two-point-five seconds and kiss me hello, or will that disturb the cosmic balance or somethin’?”

Blinking in surprise, you register the words for a heartbeat before more color spreads across your nose. The little blue ring around your eyes sparkles in the light strobing through the windows of the front door, creating the dark pools of life he remembers. You’ve always had gorgeous eyes.

You break out into a little giggle, rolling your eyes before he tugs at your arm, shuffling you the few steps it takes before you’re pressing your chest up against his again, hand on his pecs as his settle in around your waist again.

Your lids drop to a lusty half mast, head tipping back slightly in a way that says you’re ready for him to kiss you. “Hi, Rooster,” you greet him with a soft coo, a little chuckle in the back of the words that spreads fire through his ribcage.

“And?” His brow pops up, expectantly. You know what’s missing from the greeting.

You smile. “I’m glad you’re home. Happy Friday.” Nose scrunching up adorably, your tongue peeks out between your lips, teasingly.

The running tradition of wishing him a “Happy Friday” when he leaves for work, be it through phone call, text message, or your infamous sticky-notes in his duffle bag, has been going on since the two of you were dating. You conclude the workday with a “Happy Friday” when he’s dismissed for the day and off work, whether he’s seeing you or staying on base.

He loves it, and is pretty sure he can’t live without it. Like air, he craves everything you say.

He angles his head and leans forward to kiss you, softly at first, gently sucking at your bottom lip. The sigh you elicit is deep as you fold against his chest, your hands slowly dragging up his neck to play with his hair. Your tongue darts between his lips, playing at his front teeth in that subtle little way of yours that tells him you want to be Frenched, and he obliges, the gasp in the back of your throat bleeding into a moan that shoots straight to his cock.

Your nails are tugging at his scalp delightfully when you break the kiss, head tipping back to chuckle at the ceiling. Rooster’s half thinking about lathing his tongue across your clavicle, suckling at the hollow of your throat when you hum pleasurably, hand smoothing over his cheek.

Righting your head, you feel for the sunglasses on top of your head, and once you confirm they are present and accounted for, you reach to swipe the pad of your stained thumb over his mustache.

You’re looking at his lips again in that way, but his gut releases a growl that snaps your attention downward, and you’re laughing and pushing him back with a shove before he can reach for you again.

“Hungry much, Roo?” He was. He’d skipped lunch.

“Let’s get out of here for dinner,” he decides, checking his watch. “I’m starving.”

It's early for dinner, and if you leave now, there's plenty of time for that thing he's been trying to convince you to do all day.

The look on your face is horrific, like he’d just walked over your grave. Something in your jaw twitches, and the color on your cheeks deepens even more, if possible. Standing there, unmoving, your eyes drop to consider yourself again, and you laugh genuinely, shoulders shaking before you shake your head, no.

“We’re not going out—look at me! I am covered in plaster, paint, and God knows what else!” Your hands flow over your body, gesturing to the current state of yourself, “And not only that, my hair isn’t washed and I—”

You freeze at the look he’s giving you, like a predator seeking prey; like he’s got you on target lock.

His eyes zero in on you backtracking out of the entryway, and he moves to intercept you on quick feet. You're shrieking with laughter as he attacks you in a hug from behind, arm snagging around your waist to draw you back against his chest. Bradley’s burying his lips against the crook of your neck, and knows it’s a sensitive spot—you erupt in laughter, squirming against the mustache tickling the soft skin behind your ear.

“You’re the most gorgeous person here, baby, and we’re going out to supper,” he enunciates the order with peppered kisses up your neck and along your jaw, gently swaying you back and forth on his feet. You’re curled against his chest, giggling, hand reaching up to play with his hair again. “Get your shit. Let’s go.”

He halfheartedly releases you to do just that. Stripping off the flight suit that stinks like jet fuel and sweat and the stale air of his cockpit, he watches you snatch your purse from the island counter, looking around the floor until you spot the absolutely offensive Crocs you’ve discarded by the fridge.

Why you love those damn things he’ll never know, but you do. And, he can’t help but think you look like a million bucks as you call for Gander to follow you. He’s already clipping on the leash and slipping on his work boots that have been living by the door.

You stop to check yourself in the mirror you must’ve hung in the entry sometime this week.

He drapes his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to press a firm kiss against your cheek while chuckling. Rooster pulls the door closed behind him with the toe of his boot as he hands you the keys to the Bronco that have been looped around his fingers.

Slipping the aviators low on his nose, you match the action with your own as he guides you to the truck, your arm through his. Helping you into the passenger side, he swats the door closed and leans through the open window, reaching for a curl that’s fallen from your messy updo.

There’s spackle dried around the curl and you brush his hand down, rolling your eyes. “It’s gonna take forever to get this shit out of my hair,” you whine.

A devious smile splits his lips. “I think we’ll manage,” he winks over the dark lenses as you sit back in the seat, offering him a smirk. “If you even remember it’s there by the time I’m done fucking you senseless, sweetheart.”

You snort, loudly laughing at the ridiculous attempt at an innuendo.

“Get your ass in the truck, Bradshaw.”

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topguncortez · 8 months

Note

Ice comforting gooses sister after his death. Maybe with a touch of people blaming him for the accident

- @topgun-imagines

When We Were Young | | T. Kazansky

Masterlist | Iceman Masterlist

synopsis: Tom Kazansky isn't a man who lives with many regrets. . . but this has to be one of them, and sadly, you get wrapped up right in it.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: character death, tears, depression, angst, probably grammar and spelling errors.

note: maybe possible blurb night?? I don't have to work tonight and I actually feel inspiration:) i also did just hit 5.3k:)))

Ice felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

He knew what he did. He knew that he should’ve gotten out of there when Maverick told him. He knew that he didn’t have that shot lined up, but there was just something about Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell that got into his head and made him act reckless. And because of that, Iceman had to hold you up from crashing to the ground as you got the phone call from Carole that your brother was dead.

Ice knew that the two of you had an unbreakable bond. Your mother had passed when she gave birth to you, and your dad was in no shape to take care of you. So, it all fell onto Goose, who was just eight years old at the time. I’ve had always wished to have the type of brother-sister bond that you and Goose had. I’ve hated his siblings and wanted nothing to do with them.

Ice knew the moment that he watched Goose’s early ejection that he gone, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He wasn’t even sure if it would’ve been easier to hear it from him or not. Your knees had gone weak and sobs racked your body as you begged Carole to tell you that it wasn’t true. That somehow, someway the Navy had gotten it wrong. That they called and told the wrong Carole Bradshaw that the wrong Nicholas ‘Goose’ Bradshaw was dead.

When Ice decided he had enough of you sobbing uncontrollably on the kitchen he floor, he walked over to you, and gently put a hand on your shoulder.

“Baby, you need to breathe,” Ice said, as he gently pulled the receiver from your hand. Carole had long since hung up and the dial tone “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

He picked you up like you were nothing, carrying you with ease to your shared bed room for the time being. He changed you out of the clothes you were wearing, and slid on one of his Navy PT shirts, that was more of a dress than a shirt on you. He held you tightly against his chest, feeling the wetness from your eyes hit his skin. Ice ran circles up your back until the sobs faded to quiet whimpers.

--- --- ---

“They said it was quick.” Carole’s voice was barely above a whisper as you sat next to her in the day room of the barracks.

It hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet, and she had invited you to come with her to gather Goose's things. Carole wasn't sure that she could keep up a brave face in front of Bradley by herself, but you weren't sure if you were going to be much help either. It had only been about three hours since you had your last cry sesh, and you were feeling that all too familiar burning sensation in your chest again.

"I guess that's good," You muttered, looking over at Bradley who was flipping through the pages of some magazine which you weren't all too sure wasn't a Playboy.

"He was gone before he hit the water," Carole scoffed, "You know he always had a fear of the ocean ever since that trip to-"

"I know."

You didn't mean to cut Carole off, but you couldn't sit here and tell happy stories while your brother's best friend was collecting all of his things to give to his widow.

Hell, it didn't even feel right to call Carole a widow. The woman had barely turned 30.

It was silent for a moment, before Carole spoke up, "How was Ice last night?"

The sound of your boyfriend's callsign from her lips caught your attention, as you looked up from Bradley.

"Why do you ask?"

"He was in the air with Mav and Goose when. . . when it happened."

Now this was news to you.

But then you realized, you hadn't even bothered to see how this was affecting your boyfriend. Goose was the one who introduced the two of you back when he was at the academy. He tried doing the whole "older brother, stay away from my little sister" bit, but it was no use against Tom Kazansky's killer smile and your soft baby cow like brown eyes. Tom "Iceman" Kazansky was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on you and it had been history ever since.

"Did he say something to you?" You quietly asked Carole.

"I. . ." Carole started, and then sighed, "Maverick said something when he came and saw us. He said it was a mistake, that it was a stupid error. That he should've known-"

It was as if he knew they were discussing him, Iceman pulled the door to the day room open, standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his service khakis, ribbon rack and gold plating all perfectly shined. But you weren't looking at his perfectly done dress uniform, no, you were looking at the sad look in his baby blue eyes.

"Tom," Carole greeted, standing up from her chair. If there was one thing about Carole Bradshaw, it was that she was a hugger. It didn't matter if she was literally going through hell, she was going to hug you either way.

"Hi Carole," Ice greeted the woman, giving her a quick squeeze, before releasing her, "You guys been here long?" He was looking right at you, but you weren't sure what to even say to him. It had been a game of Tom Talks and you just look at him for the past couple days.

Carole looked between the two of you, before clearing her throat, "No, not long. Maverick is just gathering Goose's things," She turned to look at Ice again, "You should wait with us," She said softly to him.

Iceman nodded and walked over to where you were sitting with Bradley. The little boy smiled and reached for the man he considered another uncle. Usually, the sight of Iceman and Bradley made your heart do jumping jacks, but right now, it was as if a boa constrictor had found its way around it.

The four of you waited in painful silence, you staring at the silent movie playing on TV, until the door opened again, and Maverick stepped inside. Carole had managed to keep her tears at bay until she saw her husband's best friend.

Maverick, for lack of better words, looked like utter hell. His green eyes were full of sadness and guilt. He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink in days, and was about to collapse on the spot. In his hand, he held a simple copy paper box that had been filled with the rest of Goose's stuff. A Naval Officer had come by the day before and took all the things that rightfully belonged to the Department of the Navy.

"God, he loved flying with you, Maverick," Carole said, her voice cracking. You and Ice stood up, as Carole got out of her chair to greet him. She wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. You couldn't help the pang in your chest as he handed Carole the box.

"But he would've done it anyway... without you," Carole sighed, "He'd have hated it, but he would've done it." Maverick nodded. Carole gave him one more hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning around and holding her hand out to Bradley, who ran to his mother in an instant. Her blues eyes looked up at you, and she gave you a sad smile, "We'll wait for you."

All you could do was nod. Leave it to Carole Bradshaw to know that you needed the truth more than anyone in this room. Once the door was shut and Carole was out of earshot, you looked at the two men standing in the room.

"What happened?" You asked.

"Baby, I already told-"

"No," You cut Tom off, and looked over at Maverick, "What happened?"

The brunette man gulped, looking quickly at Ice, before looking at you, "Ice was trying to take a shot on a boogey, but he was taking too long to get missile lock on it. I had the perfect shot lined up, but Ice needed to move out. I kept telling him to take the shot or move, but he wouldn't. And when he finally did, it was too late. We were in his jet wash. I lost control, went into a flat spin. . ." Maverick shook his head and looked at his shoes, "The ejection failed. Goose hit his head on the canopy. Killed him instantly."

Your brown eyes were filled with tears as you turned to look at Tom, whose jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes filled with regret and guilt.

"It was an accident-"

"If that's what you choose to believe," Maverick spat, "I think you were trying to teach me something and you got my best friend killed."

"I had the shot!"

"No you didn't!"

"Maybe, if you hadn't been flying so god damn close and not trying to swoop in and-"

"Oh piss off, Kazansky, you've been waiting for your moment to-

"Enough!" You yelled. Both men looked at you shocked that you had raised your voice. Compared to Goose, you were always the quiet one, sticking to stay in the corner while Goose liked to bet he center of attention.

"Baby, let's go-" Tom reached out to you, but you pushed away from him, "Y/N. . ."

You couldn't say it out loud, you were afraid of your heart would break in your chest. Instead, you shook your head and turned to Maverick.

"Take me home?"

The brown haired pilot nodded, putting his arm around your shoulders and ushered you out of the room.

Ice couldn't help the burning sensation of tears that welled up in his throat. He had heard the whispers of his fellow classmates for the past couple days. He knew what they were thinking, but to hear it said out loud, in front of the one person he didn't want knowing about what had happened that fateful day in the air, broke him. Tom knew he was already branded as ice cold, and now he was sure that he would never escape it.

Ice stood in the silent room for a moment, before turning on his heel and going back to work.

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Text

My Future in You | 1.7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing

…

“So, did you and Bradley kiss and make up yet?” Jake asks it almost absent-mindedly as he picks an old trinket off of the shelf and examines it. Luckily, his attention is piqued by the old toy so he doesn’t notice the way your head whips around.

“Ki — uh. No,” You answer quickly, giving your head a small shake. “No, we haven’t spoken.”

“Really? – I thought he was headed over to your place to apologize yesterday,” Jake muses, shaking his head disappointedly without turning to look at you. If yesterday was Bradley’s idea of an apology, you can understand why he is the way that he is. “Guess he changed his mind.”

You hum in agreement as you turn and look around the old thrift shop, pushing your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

It’s best that Jake doesn’t know about yesterday. Bradley’s angry at you again already, so it doesn’t make any difference. It was just a mistake. A really good mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

You think back to the hurt in his eyes as you had mentioned Ryan. As he realized that your plan doesn’t involve him —- you’re not willing to choose him.

Remembering how he had gotten dressed whilst you had tried to explain yourself, so angry that he had fallen silent. The cold look in those warm, brown eyes as he had said, “You’re fucking unbelievable.” and left your apartment late last night.

You had needed a distraction this morning, a reason to tell Ryan you were busy and a reason to get Bradley off of your mind. So, you’re standing in a thrift store off of the UVA campus with Jake. He’s a bad shopping partner — he just keeps picking up the most random things that he can find and coming over to show you.

Still, this is better than sitting in your room and thinking about what a mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Even if Jake’s bored out of his mind and grabbing increasingly random objects to show you.

“So, how’s my nephew this week?” Jake asks, crouching down and lifting up a ceramic dinosaur wearing a cowboy hat. His brows furrow slightly as he examines the ornament.

You glance down and brush your hand over your bump, then shrug.

“Active,” You answer as you walk past Jake and run your fingers over the clothes on the rail. “Moving all the time since we left the hospital.”

Jake looks up in intrigue, his lips quirk slightly. He likes hearing about this stuff, it makes it all the more real. You’re almost twenty-one weeks now, a little over halfway there. Your stomach’s rounded out and visible through every item of clothing that isn’t two sizes too big. Each time he sees you, he asks more and more about the baby.

Jake’s excited to meet his nephew. Silently, he wishes that you and Bradley would figure your shit out. He knows better than to say it, he has involved himself enough and it’s not his problem to fix. He just wants your baby to have a better childhood than the two of you and your sisters had, and a better one than Bradley had. He wants it to be perfect.

“What does it feel like?” There’s a smile on your brother’s face as he ditches the ceramic dinosaur and stands upright, adjusting the longhorns cap on his head. He leans against the shelves as you browse.

It’s hard to describe the feeling of the baby moving, especially since it’s so new. It doesn’t feel like you had expected it to. There aren’t strong kicks just yet, nothing like that. You pause for a moment, trying to think of how to put it into words.

“Kind of like butterflies.” You decide eventually, that’s as close as you can get to describing the feeling.

Jake smiles softly. He nods his head, that makes sense. He turns back, resuming his search for more odd ornaments, “You and Bradley need to hurry up and make up. Need you to convince him to name the kid Jake.”

You laugh at the idea, rolling your eyes playfully. Jake Bradshaw. Bradley would hate the idea.

After a couple of hours of shopping, lunch and then stopping by the house to watch a movie on the big TV downstairs, you’re exhausted. Jake offers up his room for you to go and take a nap.

Halfway up the stairs, you change your mind.

Bradley’s sitting at his desk, elbows resting on the wood and his palm over his mouth, squinting slightly as he reads through some political theory that he’ll have to reference in his essay.

The sound of his door opening would be a welcome distraction, but it isn’t. He frowns slightly, sitting back in his desk chair silently as his eyes meet yours.

You shift slightly under the scrutiny of his gaze, biting the inside of your cheek as you step inside and close the door behind you. He watches as you swallow sheepishly. Giving you a quick look up and down, the thought crosses his mind that you’re dressed up more than you were yesterday. He wonders if it’s because you were coming to see him.

You’re wearing a fitted dress that stretches over your bump and a pretty, knit-patterned cardigan over that. You cross your arms in front of you and bite your lip, trying to figure out what to say to him.

He leans back further in the chair, parting his knees, resting his forearms on the armrests. He’s sitting in a pair of gym shorts and a hoodie, staring at you calmly.

“Hi.” You aren’t sure what else to say, how else to begin. Bradley scoffs. The two of you are well past hi by now. You bite your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Again, he makes a noise of disbelief. He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut soon. His eyes meet yours. “For which part?”

“Asking you not to tell him,” You say quietly, your voice small as you shift your weight on your feet. You shake your head softly, “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Bradley shrugs his shoulders, “If you want to keep it from him, that’s your decision. But if he asks me, I’m going to tell him.”

You don’t like that answer. Bradley can see it on your face, the immediate disapproval. Regardless, that’s his answer and he’s not going to change it because it’s not what you want to hear.

“There nothing to tell him. We just… we…”

He pushes his chair back and stands up. Your back bumps into the door as he crosses the room to you. He stands in front of you, eyes focused on yours.

“We just what?”

Fucked. Had sex. Made lo — no, you definitely didn’t do that. Nothing’s the right answer. Bradley can practically see the wheels in your head turning as you scramble for an answer that justifies what you’re trying to do. Which is cheat on Ryan.

“If you want to cheat on your boyfriend, Seresin, that’s your problem,” Bradley shrugs his stupid broad shoulders and looks down at you. His curls are messy from studying, he needs a haircut soon but you like it at this length. He’s freshly shaved, that mustache still decorating his top lip. He’s standing so close. “Don’t come crying to me when it backfi—“

You rest your hand against his stomach over his shirt and step forwards, catching the back of his neck. He kisses you back without hesitation, hands finding your hips and tugging your body forwards into his.

He’s single, you want him — he doesn’t see an issue in this. Plus, he thinks your boyfriend is an asshole, so what does he care if his heart gets broken?

Slipping your fingers under his shirt, your tongue into his mouth — everything that happens next is all your doing. Even once you’re out of your clothes, on your back on his bed with him between your legs, it’s your hand in his curls keeping him there.

The scratch of his mustache as his mouth works along your thigh, sending goosebumps across your skin. Brown eyes flicker upwards, catching your gaze. When his lips kiss against your clit and then suck, you start to come undone all together.

He experiments a little. Your fingers curl into his hair as he tries out different levels of pressure, different patterns of moving his tongue. He takes mental notes, the way you sigh contentedly with the reprieve of light contact and whimper at firmer force.

You cum shuddering against his mouth, the burn of his mustache against your skin. He gives you no time to recover through the aftershocks, mouth working through your release.

Your tug softly at his hair as you come to the realization. He’s such an asshole. He’s been holding out on you — he has been able to make you cum this hard the entire time, he just hadn’t been trying.

But he is now, and your body is trembling before he’s even inside of you. You whimper softly as he fills you, sitting on his knees with your legs over his hips. He fucks into you in short, soft thrusts until he’s buried completely.

He leans his head back and groans softly, giving you a moment to adjust. Then, his gaze is on your body again. His hands start on either side of your ribs, cupping your tits. He lets out a soft breath as his hands trail down, taking his time and letting his gaze follow just as slowly.

You squirm under him, impatient and nervous under his gaze. He brushes a hand over your developing stomach and shakes his head softly, “Don’t think I’m ever gonna get tired of seeing this.” He admits.

“Really?” The question leaves your mouth before you plan to ask it. He swallows and nods, leaning forwards to cover your body with his.

“Uh-huh,” He murmurs, kissing your lips tenderly. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, keeping your mouth on his as he begins to rock his hips forwards. “So perfect like this.”

You press your lips to his shoulder, trailing kisses up and onto his neck. He groans softly at the feeling.

This time isn’t like yesterday. This house isn’t empty. Jake will come looking for you if you’re gone too long. But Bradley knows your body better today than he did yesterday, his fingers work figure eights on your clit as he fucks into you hurriedly.

His hand hooks under the back of your knee and pushes it up out of his way, wrapping your leg around his waist. You moan into the crook of his neck.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Bradley hums into your hair, guiding your leg up higher around his waist, rocking himself deeper into you. He kisses your lips to quieten you. He’s burning hot, like always, but he shivers at the feeling of your fingers brushing along the back of his bicep, digging into the flesh in search of leverage.

He grunts loudly, snapping his hips forwards, then reminding himself that your brother is right across the hall. He presses his palm over your mouth as another gasping whimper leaves your mouth, catching the sound in his hand.

You press your hand over his and hold it there, eyes rolling back into your head as he fucks you. You dig your heels into the mattress, squirming against him as he brings you to your orgasm and pounds you through it.

You’re a mess, crying his name into his palm, writhing under him, trembling. He’s never seen you look so beautiful. Your walls clench around him, making his hips stutter.

He groans, pulling his hand away from your mouth and replacing it with his lips. His hands find your hips, pulling you taught against him. He drives himself as deep into you as he can, letting his forehead fall to rest against yours.

Once he’s spent, he rolls off of you and lays on his back at your side, trying to catch his breath. He grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him haphazardly, wrapping his arms around your torso, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You should be filled with guilt, but you aren’t. In fact, you’re so not guilty about how good that was, that you don’t even bat an eyelid at getting dressed and going back downstairs to keep hanging out with your brother like nothing had happened.

It’s okay, it’s the last time. You got it out of your system. At least, you think you did. Until the next day when he brings by some books that you let him borrow — they don’t really need to be returned.

They remain where they were dropped, right by the door, when you’re unbuckling Bradley’s belt and tugging him into your bed again.

Right after that — in your shower — that’s supposed to be the last time too. But the way his hands feel on your skin, his lips on your neck. The way that he looks at you now. You both know it’s not the last time.

Even after Ryan comes over that night and you watch a movie together, you’re still in Bradley’s arms the next day. In the backseat of his bronco. His bed again. The couch in the loft at the frat house — that one was risky. Your bed again.

Him coming over innocently to study the day after that. Both of you agreeing that this has to stop, that the day before was the last time. Then, him going down on you as you’re trying to study for an exam.

You lose count of how many ‘last times’ the two of you have over the course of that week. Bradley doesn’t. Nine times in seven days. Now, he’s sitting on the bench at football practice, texting you about a potential last time number ten under the guise of you coming over to talk about his navy application.

“Bradshaw!”

He recognises the voice, but it’s purposefully deeper, the boy behind it is furious and trying to let everyone know it. Bradley’s brows raise. Jake’s too. From Bradley’s side, Jake looks up from his phone and follows the noise, frowning.

Ryan’s storming towards them, red in the face, his fists balled at his sides. He looks like he’s going to cry. Jake shoots a look at Bradley, noticing his teammate’s lips quirk up amusedly.

Your boyfriend looks ridiculous when he’s angry, storming towards them like a toddler. Bradley sets his phone down on the bench and scrunches his nose. He tries not to, but a quiet chuckle leaves his lips.

“Oh, shit.” Bradley breathes out amusedly, trying to stop himself from laughing as aryan grows closer. Jake looks between your boyfriend and Bradley, his face drops as he finally catches up on what has happened.

His eyes widen slightly as Bradley watches him figure it out.

Bradley takes a second to wonder how Ryan found out, he knows that you didn’t tell him — you’re too busy texting Bradley, planning to come over later.

“Oh, tell me you fucking didn’t.” Jake groans, knowing that he’s going to be dragged into the middle of this whether he likes it or not. Bradley’s lips quirk up as he pushes himself to stand.

…

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hederasgarden · 2 years

Text

Sometimes All I Need Is You

Summary: Hangman and Rooster comfort you after a difficult day. Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Civilian!F!Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin W/C: 1.6K Rating: Gen. Angst, brief reference to the death of a parent, depression and lots of Hangman/Rooster comforting the reader. A/N: Thank you @mayhem24-7forever, @green-socks ad @whatblogisthis216 for looking this over!

By the time Jake makes it home, he’s exhausted, looking for a cold beer and the chance to lose himself in you. Rooster won’t be home for a few more hours – Thursday nights are reserved for his weekly beers with Mav. Jake intends to make the most of a Rooster-free evening, hopeful he can convince you to slip into the lingerie he bought for you last weekend.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out.

The house is eerily quiet as he moves through it. By now you were usually cooking dinner and listening to music loud enough that he could hear it from the porch. He knows you’re home as your car is in the driveway and he saw your purse on the couch when he first came in. The office and spare bedrooms are empty. When he makes it to the room the three of you share, the lights are off but he can make a distinct you-shaped lump under the covers.

He whispers your name but all he gets in response is a sniffle and a little pained sigh. Something’s wrong. Jake sits on the bed and touches your shoulder, gently pushing against it until you roll onto your back and blink up at him. Your eyes are puffy and there are dried tear tracks on your cheek.

“Sweetheart…”

“What time is it?” You ask sleepily. “I’m sorry, I can get started on dinner.”

You try to sit up but Jake stops you with a firm hand. You won’t look him in the eye and that worries him. Out of the three of them, you were the freest with your emotions and affections. It’s not like you to hide something.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just tired,” you promise, giving a poor approximation of your normally sweet smile.

Jake wishes Rooster was home – the other pilot was annoyingly better with emotional things, knowing just what to say to you. Jake preferred to fuck the feelings out of you, not talk about them. Sometimes you just needed him to make you breathless and needy until you forgot everything but his cock. Today is not one of those times and he’s not exactly sure what to do without his wingman to assist.

“Talk to me,” he urges, holding your face.

Your eyes slide closed at his touch. There’s a slight tremor in your lower lip, his only warning before you’re crying softly again. You crumple into his chest, burying your face against the side of his throat. Alarmed, Jake holds you tightly, rubbing his hands up and down your back as you cry yourself out against him. The little broken hiccups kill him. He wants to do something but he still has no idea what’s going on.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, pulling away so he can look down at you.

“My dad,” you start, squeezing your eyes shut as you fight not to start crying again. Jake’s heart sinks at those two words. “I thought I was doing okay, but I guess it just hit me again today.”

“Darlin…”

“It’s okay, I just needed a good cry I think,” you tell him, already minimizing your feelings. It’s something he and Rooster had to watch out for early in their relationship. Your need to put others first was admirable, but Jake was determined to teach you to be more selfish like him. You sit up fully and wipe away the wetness on your cheeks with the back of your hand. “I should probably get started on dinner.”

“How about a nice bath? After that I can start on dinner,” he offers, squeezing your shoulder.

You look at him doubtfully and Jake sighs.

“What? I almost burn the house down once and suddenly all the trust is gone?” He questions, looking put out enough to make you giggle. “I’ll order us something. Come on,” he encourages, pulling you to your feet.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you to the bathroom. The lid of the toilet is already down and he corrals you to sit there while he kneels on the floor to start the water for the bath. He tests the temperature with the back of his hand, waiting until it’s hot enough to turn his skin red. How you stood that kind of heat, he’d never understand. Jake rummages through the bathroom closet, looking for the bath salts Rooster got you for Christmas last year. Lavender and camomile sounded like it would be calming. He dumps the entire packet in the tub and looks over his shoulder at you. You’re staring straight ahead with a blank look on your face that makes his heart ache.

“Let’s get you undressed,” he says, helping you step out of your clothes.

You rest your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself while he pulls down your sleep shorts. Normally the sight of your naked skin and all those soft curves is enough to make him half hard but it’s difficult to feel anything but worry when he looks up at your face and sees that far off expression. You step into the deep tub with his encouragement, sinking beneath the surface until only your head is above water. Jake kisses your brow before leaving. As soon as the door’s shut he calls Rooster. The other man picks up on the third ring, the familiar sounds of yelling and cheering letting him know they’re at the Hard Deck.

“You need to come home,” Jake says, not bothering with any pleasantries.

“Need my help already?” Rooster asks. “Don’t worry, I’ll be home in a few hours to give her what you clearly can't."

“No dipshit. It’s her dad.”

“Fuck. How bad is it?" He asks.

"Well I’m calling you. Take a guess," Jake says.

"I’ll be there in 10,” Rooster responds.

Jake orders dinner and then paces the length of the living room until Rooster arrives.

“Where is she?” The other man asks.

“I drew her a bath.”

“And you just left there? Alone?” Rooster accuses, brushing past him hurriedly to the bedroom. “What the fuck man.”

“I needed to order dinner and call your ass home,” Jake defends, following after him.

By the time he makes it into the bathroom Rooster is already stripping out of his clothes, talking to you in that soft tone of voice he drops into any time you’re upset. Water wells up over the edge of the old claw foot tub when he steps in and slots his body behind yours. You turn into his embrace. Rooster wraps his arms tightly around your middle and presses his lips to your neck. Jake knows from the tense look on your face you’re fighting not to cry. He hates how fucking helpless he feels standing there.

“Sit down,” Rooster snaps. “Stop hovering.”

“Well, all three of us can't fit in there,” Jake mutters.

He doesn’t appreciate Rooster’s tone but he also recognizes the other man feels just as helpless as he does and an argument right now won’t do any good. Jake swallows his frustration and sinks to his knees, ignoring the way the water soaks into his jeans. He takes your face in both hands and kisses you, rubbing his nose softly against yours while whispering how much he loves you.

“What do you need us to do?” Rooster questions.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“Let’s just sit here for a while,” Rooster suggests. “The bath’s nice, right?”

It’s uncomfortable kneeling on the tile but Jake wants to be close by. You nod, eyes closing. A few moments pass and Rooster lays his hand over the one Jake rests on the edge of the tub. Looking up, he meets Rooster’s concerned gaze, the other man’s brown eyes reflecting back the vulnerability and concern they both feel. It's a wordless apology that Jake accepts by turning his palm up to lace their fingers together. Neither of them speak but they watch you, the shallow rise and fall of your chest. They let you rest until the water turns tepid before helping you out and drying you off. Rooster wraps a towel around his waist and for just a second Jake lets himself get distracted by all the tanned skin and toned abs on display before he shakes it off and heads into the bedroom.

There he digs through your dresser, pulling out some underwear, your favorite pair of leggings and a loose top. He works with Rooster to dress you, kneeling at your feet to encourage you to step into the clothes. He tugs them up your legs, rubbing his thumbs over your hips and pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. Once your shirt is on, Jake leads you to the couch and leaves Rooster to dress himself.

The food arrives shortly after but neither of them can convince you to eat. All you want to do is curl up on the couch with them, which they’re more than happy to do. He wants you close, where he can touch you and anchor himself to your body. Your head rests on his chest and Rooster rubs your feet while the three of you watch something mindless on TV. Jake presses a kiss into the side of your neck and you sigh quietly.

After a few minutes you finally seem to relax, even letting a quiet giggle slip out in response to the show you’re watching. Jake looks up, catching Rooster’s gaze. The other man smiles and Jake happily returns it, both a little relieved to see something of their girl back. He already knows without asking they’ll both be calling in sick tomorrow. Rooster likely already has a plan to keep you busy and lift your spirits and for once, Jake will be happy to let him take the lead.

He’ll criticize the other man’s choices of course, after all, he can’t let Rooster get any ideas.

♡

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#hangman x reader #rooster x reader x hangman #rooster x reader #hangman x you #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction

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inkandarsenic · 13 days

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Mav’s Daughter fic idea that I’ve been bullet pointing out in my notes app:

- 28 year old Naval Aviator Lieutenant Anna “Impulse” Mitchell is the product of a brief summer fling Mav had between deployments

- Her mom and Mav broke up when Mav deployed again, and her mom found out she was pregnant not long after.

- Mav did know about Anna and tried to be in her life for the first few years, but ultimately ended up putting all of his focus on Bradley and the Navy, and by the time she’s five, Anna just sort falls to the wayside. Mav sends Christmas and birthday cards for a few years after that but by the time she’s ten those stop too

- Anna’s mother moves them to Hawaii when Anna is seven because she gets a job at the Pearl Harbor base. Anna grows up surfing and sailing and learning to pilot, her first real job is at a helicopter tour company.

- After college, Anna follows her dad’s footsteps into the Navy’s aviation program, against her mother’s wishes.

- Her mom thinks Anna is chasing after the love and attention of a father who cares more for his job and another kid, and she thinks Anna is just going to get hurt

- Anna definitely takes after Mav in that she is a natural in the sky. She is referred to Top Gun by Cyclone, who was one of her instructors in the academy and sort of took on a fatherly role in her life. He knows she’s Mav’s kid and makes sure to let her know that Mav is teaching at Top Gun.

- Actually met Cyclone when she was 14 and her mom finally let her start learning to fly. Cyclone was stationed in Pearl Harbor and was kind of sweet on her mom so he offered to teach Anna how to pilot

- It irritates Mav to no end that someone else taught his kid how to fly and that Anna credits Cyclone for her ability to fly. He has no one to blame but himself.

- Maverick is not aware that his daughter is even in the navy, let alone top gun.

- He finds out when he and the Daggers are given the line up for the new top gun class.

- Rooster never met Anna and only knew that her mother had moved them to Hawaii and Mav didn’t get to see her very much

- Mav tries to talk to her about their relationship after classes one day, but it’s been 18 years since Anna’s even heard from him, so she shuts that shit down by only calling him captain Mitchell and telling him that she has no interest in anything but a professional work relationship

- She also doesn’t like Bradley much. She knows it’s not his fault but she feels like it’s unfair that he got Mav all to himself and feels however irrationally that he took her dad from her

- She gets along great with Phoenix and Bob and she and Payback bond over being from Hawaii.

- Her phones lockscreen is a picture of her, her mother, and cyclone at her college graduation. Mav sees it once and doesn’t know how to feel about it. (Or maybe it’s a picture she has in her jet? I don’t know for certain if that’s a thing)

- At the annual Navy gala, Cyclone asks Jake to accompany Anna, because her asshole ex-fiancée is going to be there and Cyclone doesn’t want her to be there alone

That’s kinda as far as I’ve gotten, but the Navy gala is like the beginning of Jake and Anna getting closer and eventually getting together.

#top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #beau cyclone simpson #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #fic outline #bullet point fic

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oathkeeperoxas · 6 months

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wip wthursday

Carole and Ice and Bradley (and sort of Mav) all in the soup this week. Throwing Ice into uncomfortable situations my beloved

Mav had to do something back at base that had kept him late, paperwork that Ice had made fun of him for not having done earlier in the week, but now he’s wishing that he’d stayed behind and helped him do it, because now he’s here at the Bradshaw residence with a bottle of wine gripped in a sweaty hand, all alone.

Their relationship with Carole Bradshaw has always been strained. Or, at least, Ice has only ever seen it strained. He wonders, sometimes, about how all this played out. Before. Before Ice came into the picture, before Goose died, before Maverick was left to parent a boy that he hadn’t fathered… Before Carole had to work full time because she refused to let Maverick and Ice support her. Before Ice knew her at all.

“Uncle Ice!”

Carole isn’t the one who opens the door. Bradley comes out beaming, arms up, and Ice has no choice but to bend down and pluck him from the earth. Bradley cuddles into his side, wrapping his arms around Ice’s neck so he can press his face against Ice’s scent glands. He’s still a kid, and it shows.

Ice clears his throat, and lets himself in. Carole isn’t in the kitchen, but there’s something cooking in the oven and the plates are out ready to have food put on them.

“Where’s your mom, baby Goose?” Ice asks Bradley. Bradley mumbles something that he doesn’t catch and snuggles in more firmly against Ice.

Ice puts the bottle of wine down so he can use two hands to support Bradley – the kid’s getting big. Ice has never really had any contact with children before now, out of self defence mostly, but he knows that they’re often drawn to male omegas. He’d put his scent dampener on today like always, but there’s only so much he can do when Bradley sticks his nose in so close.

“Where’s Uncle Mav?” Bradley asks, popping up enough to look up at him. His big brown eyes reflect the light. Ice can’t look away from them.

“He had to go and do some work,” Ice tells him. “So he’s not coming to dinner tonight.”

“But I was gonna show him my legos!” Bradley whines, and buries his head in Ice’s neck again. Ice pats him, feeling awkward and unsure if this is appropriate, and goes looking for Carole.

She’s out the back smoking, and looks up when he comes out. “I thought I heard you,” she says. “You alone?”

“Mav’s behind on his paperwork, so he’s been at the base all weekend,” Ice says, and tries not to feel a pull in his chest at the thought. He spends all week with Mav at work, basically. He’ll see him tomorrow. There’s no reason to get upset just because he hasn’t seen him for one weekend.

“I’ll have to put a plate away,” Carole says, then offers him her pack. “Whet your appetite, Lieutenant Commander?”

“I’ve got the kid,” Ice says gruffly. “And dinner. Take as long as you want.” It’s the least he can do for her.

He takes Bradley back inside, and lets himself press his nose into the kid’s wild curls for a quick second. Fresh, young, unpresented. Family. Someone for Ice to protect. He puts the kid down, even though Bradley complains.

“Please up, Uncle Ice!”

“Show me your legos,” Ice tells him. “Then maybe we can go out and play in the yard for a bit with your mom watching before dinner.”

The kid needs no more prompting, scurrying off to his bedroom with Ice following after him. Goose isn’t here, so Ice needs to do what he can. Even if that means stepping into a role that he’d never thought he’d claim; even if that means making himself uncomfortable. He doesn’t like stretching like this, but he’s gotten good enough at hiding it, and Bradley needs it, so he does it anyway.

The kid shows him the latest set that he and Mav have been working on for the last few weeks, one that Ice and Mav bought him for his birthday, and the progress that he’s made on it. Mav is the one with the engineering degree between the two of them, but Ice is pretty sure he should be able to figure out some legos. They make a mess of it until Ice’s eyes are going blurry, and then he scoops the kid up to take him back outside. Bradley squeals happily and then demands that Ice make him fly, which Ice does, lifting him above his head.

Carole watches from just beside the door as Ice tosses her kid up and down, to Bradley’s shrieking joy. It feels domestic; it is domestic. Ice tries not to let on that the hair on the back of his neck is standing up. He’s not Bradley’s father, he isn’t–

But he knows that people know he visits Carole and Bradley. He’s permanently crossed off the Tuesday afternoon hop schedule because he leaves the base early to go and pick up the kid from preschool. Bradley’s teachers know him, and he knows Bradley’s schedule and the kid trusts him, enough to go to him and ask to be chucked into the air because he knows Ice will catch him when he falls.

He and Carole have always been cautious around each other in a way that she and Mav never have been. Ice had always chalked it up to him being an interloper. But he remembers Mav laughing off Ice’s inquiries into whether he and Carole would ever consider trying things out between them. And he’d never asked Carole the question directly, but she’d made it clear over the years that she regards Mav as a younger brother for her to look out for.

He’d never really thought about it; him and Carole. But he’s been thinking about it. Every time he looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being seen or followed when he ducks into Mav’s house, and every time anxiety curls in his gut when he lets Mav into his place. It wouldn’t be normal, exactly, if Ice and Carole had hit things off; they were both omegas. But with Ice’s service record, maybe it would be overlooked. He’s not looking for an alpha anyway – or he wasn’t, before Mav – and he still isn’t, even though Mav–

Mav is an alpha, but it feels peripheral to their relationship, as much as Ice is aware of it. He’s not taking the safe road with Mav; even if the expected dynamic of alpha and omega were seen between them, they’re both still men. Ice can’t have that hanging above his head, not when he has the ambitions that he has. Wouldn’t it have been smarter, to find a girl like Carole? Wouldn’t it have been safer?

He catches Bradley again. “Alright, time for dinner,” Ice says, because Carole has finished smoking and has just been watching them for a while. He wonders if she’s thinking the same things he is. He wonders if she knows.

“One more, one more!” Bradley begs, and so Ice lifts him up one more time.

“Okay. But you gotta eat all your vegetables,” Ice bargains, and spins him around.

Carole has gone inside by the time they’re done. Ice carts Bradley in and finds her putting the roast out on the table. He sits Bradley down in the kid’s spot and then helps with the plates while Carole pops the cork on the wine and pours for them.

Dinner, like the play outside, is domestic. Ice almost feels like he’s looking at the entire thing from somewhere outside himself. Carole asks him to pass the salt; he does. Bradley asks what he learned this week, a cute reversal of the question that Ice normally asks him, and Ice gives a quick two paragraph overview of the supply chain and inventory lists that he’s been organising, to Bradley’s blank expression. Carole laughs at him, clinks their wine glasses together, and drinks.

Maybe it would have been safer to have a family that Ice could walk with anywhere in the city. But even while they eat and entertain the kid, Ice’s eyes keep drifting to the spot opposite him that’s empty; and maybe that’s his answer, and he doesn’t have to look any further than that.

Bradley scampers off to watch his allowed hour of cartoons after dinner has been eaten, and Ice and Carole settle in, Ice with his second glass of wine and Carole with her third.

“You’re so good with him,” Carole sighs. “And you’re so good to me. I know not every girl on this block has two eager babysitters at her beck and call.”

“He’s a good kid,” Ice says, uncomfortable as he always is when it’s brought up that Bradley effectively has three parents. That’s not normal, no matter how you look at it. “He deserves someone to look out for him.”

“He does,” Carole says, eyeing him up. “Did Pete really beg off because of work?”

“Yeah,” Ice says, ignoring his own annoyance. “Too busy flying to file all his reports.”

“I’m not surprised, and I’m sure you aren’t either. You know Maverick.”

Yes, he knows Maverick.

“He could try to get them done a bit sooner,” Ice sighs. “But it’s Viper’s problem, not mine.”

“I think you manage him well enough,” Carole says, and Ice can feel his heart beating, thud-thud-thud, and wonders if he’s supposed to be reading into what she’s saying. If she knows. And if she knows, the more pressing question: is she going to do anything about it? They don’t usually talk politics, besides niche and complicated Navy politics that Carole only knows about because she has Ice at her table – Mav couldn’t give less of a shit why they’re telling him to do what he does, as long as he gets to fly while he does it. Ice is the one with opinions.

That’s fine normally, but it means he doesn’t know where she stands, on men having relationships with other men. She lets them both come to her table, so she’s not one of those omega women who think that omega men are there to steal children away – she lets him interact with Bradley, supervised and unsupervised. Same as Mav. She trusts her kid with them. So maybe–

“Mav runs on his own schedule,” Ice deflects. “Though sometimes the Navy catches up to him, as fast as even he is.”

Carole laughs. Ice watches her teeth glint in the light of the kitchen. She could have been his; but he didn’t choose her. And he doesn’t want to. Still, by being with Mav, a door’s been closed – or has one opened? “Only happy when his tail’s on fire, hm? You know Maverick.”

Yes, Ice thinks as he pours her the last of the wine. Yes, he knows Maverick.

He leaves when Carole goes to put Bradley to bed, not wanting to intrude on that domestic routine too. He’s been involved in enough for the evening. He gets home and resists the urge to visit Mav, who surely must be done with his files by now. He’ll see Mav tomorrow. It’s fine.

His heart tells him otherwise. He’ll see Mav, yes. But they have to perform at work. It’s not the same. Ice does his best to ignore that, and puts his running gear on instead. Maybe, if he pushes himself far and fast enough, he’ll be able to leave all these troubling thoughts behind.

#baby bradley is too cute help #icemav #iceman #carole bradshaw #putting them in the blender hitting the button and seeing what gets spat out #tg #my writing #wip wednesday #even though its thursday yes i know

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film-in-my-soul · 4 months

Text

Of Fighters and Fighter Pilots | 652 | strawberryspitt

Summary: "Bradley knows the entire team thinks it’s unhealthy. They just don’t get it, not yet."

Field Day | 810 | xo_em / @jakeseresins

Summary: “Where are you taking me?” Bradley exclaims as Jake pulls him along by the hand. “You said you wanted to do Texas things,” Jake laughs. “So I’m showing you a Texas thing.”

We Could Try | 1,072 | xo_em / @jakeseresins

Summary: “Jake, what the hell. It’s like four in the morning-“

rose quartz | 1,100 | levivi

Summary: He inspects his boyfriend carefully. Bradley looks nervous, probably unnoticeable to anyone else, but Jake’s not just anyone else. He can see it in his eyes, in the slight tremor of his fingers splayed over his thighs. His heart squeezes.

all the things i wish i had told you | 1,118 | dames_for_jamesbarnes / @qvid-pro-qvo

Summary: “It’s not like you, to turn in early,” Bradley counters. Hangman stops again, turns and glares, brow furrowed deep. “Been a long time since you could claim to know me, right, Bradshaw?” Bradley and Jake have a past. Bradley wants a future.

Bleeding Hearts Beat Too Fast | 1,136 | theincredibleprincess

Summary: When he looks at the scene before him, Bradley sees a part of himself that he had tried to destroy a long time ago. After an unlikely candidate helps Jake through a bad situation, they get to discussing fathers- the best that ever died and the worst that ever lived.

if someone was going to break me (i’d want it to be you) | 1,162 | tearsricochets

Summary: There’s a kiss being placed on his neck, and he sighs when he realizes it was right on one of the multiple marks Bradley had littered him with that evening. “Should I leave?” he asks, while tightening his arms around his waist. (‘Should I leave?’ he asks. Like Jake would ever make him leave. No, that’s Jake’s job.) He doesn’t say that, instead answering: “Ask again in five.” Because he’s weak, and he’s always got to have an escape route planned, a way out of the hole he’s dug for himself once again.

Please see below for more recommendations!

I Could Be (Someone) | 1,226 | xo_em / @jakeseresins

Summary: “Why are you leaving?” Bradley demands breathlessly, his face positively flushed from the argument they’re currently embroiled in.

Wintersong | 1,320 | xo_em / @jakeseresins

Summary: 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.

A Sip of Eternity | 1,360 | xo_em / @jakeseresins

Summary: He knows if he just asked, Jake would give him anything.

the beginning, and the middle (not the end) | 1,405 | cloudburst

Summary: But hell, he wasn’t about to tell his fellow pilots the good news that Hangman had finally settled down – in a manner of speaking – and finally met the one. That last part not being an exaggeration had him turning mid-air, flown through the jetwash, unrecoverable spin. He couldn’t pull the fucking eject.

coming up for air | 1,472 | vannral / @vannral

Summary: "The horizon blurs into blue and bone white. It’s so light it burns Jake’s eyes. The entire cockpit is eerily silent, except for the thundering in his ears. ’fly, fucking fly like your life depends on it – fly FASTER, THEY’RE GONNA DIE – !’" In which Jake shares a room with Rooster on the carrier, he has a nightmare about not reaching Mav and Rooster in time, and Rooster comforts him. And ends up sharing the bed.

no need to pray, no need to speak | 1,491 | dalearden / @dale-arden

Summary: Taking the very last moment he has, Bradley closes in again on Jake but this time it’s so he can rest his forehead against the man who has been his lover and his rival all at once, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest as he tries to have one more chance to just breathe. Jake matches him, beat for beat, and Bradley has to close his eyes against the tidal wave of overwhelming sorrow that makes him feel, pressing a hand to Jake’s chest as he murmurs a promise he knows he can’t keep but which he feels he has to make all the same because what if, what if…

All the Sky Above | 1,574 | xo_em / @jakeseresins

Summary: It’s Maverick who calls him, waking him from a dead sleep at 11:28 pm on a Tuesday night, to tell him that Jake has flipped his car on the freeway.

With His Head Held High | 1,762 | dalearden / @dale-arden

Summary: Jake was born and raised in Texas and he knows a thing or two about guns. When Hard Deck is raided by a band of thugs and all inside taken hostage, Jake gets his hands on a rifle that Penny keeps under the counter and shows them exactly why they shouldn’t mess up with his Team. And Rooster may or may not get hard by seeing how precise Jake’s aim is.

Perpetuatin' Prophesy | 1,775 | ForASecondThereWedWon / @forasecondtherewedwon

Summary: Rooster blinks at him. “My socks are wet,” he says. Or, Rooster and Maverick bail out of the F-14. Jake finds them in the water.

this world is only gonna break your heart | 1,817 | youlookgood / @sereshavv

Summary: And maybe it's that tether pulling him along again. Maybe it's the fact that in the morning, when he puts on that helmet with H_NGM_N printed across the front, he'll be thinking about how appropriate it all is that the tether holding him to Rooster might just be his noose. But he's a twisted up mess inside, and he could never wish for a universe in which he didn't love Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw with his entire being. Their game has always been a wicked one, and now it's dead ash by Jake's own hands. Maybe his dreams are true. Maybe the world really is on fire.

still waters | 2,012 | Notchka88

Summary: Rooster is an even-keeled, laidback kind of guy. Except when it comes to Hangman, maybe especially then. In which someone mouths off to Hangman and Rooster loses it.

Feel the Heat, See the Light | 2,173 | ForASecondThereWedWon / @forasecondtherewedwon

Summary: “How long do you think we can do this?” Jake wonders aloud. Make the tension last? Bradley silently guesses. Stick to our respective sides of the bed? Pretend the fact that we took off across state lines, just the two of us, is something we can go forever without acknowledging?

cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad | 2,174 | multifandommonster / @mitthrawnu

Summary: “Don’t say that shit,” he whispers, void of any kind of venom. It's a shameful, humiliating emotion. “Don’t say that, Bradshaw, not– it’s not funny.” “Okay,” Bradley replies, oddly calm. Closer again, Jake notices. “I won’t, Jake. I know you don’t regret it.”

angel, can't you see who's in front of you? | 2,185 | dames_for_jamesbarnes / @qvid-pro-qvo

Summary: “What about yours?” he finally asks, nodding to them. Seresin blinks, cocks his head, and Bradley gestures with an open hand. “Your wings.” The other man blinks. Raises a brow. “I’ll show you mine because you showed me yours type of thing?” Bradley snorts. “Something like that,” he admits, raising his brow right back. Bradley and Jake accidentally find each other after the Mission. And maybe realize that even though they've flown together, they've never really seen each other.

(how good it is) to be your lover today | 2,464 | multifandommonster / @mitthrawnu

Summary: He doesn’t have an extensive morning routine; his pales in comparison to Jake’s several-step process to keep his skin young, Rooster, some of us don’t want sunspots by age forty, but Bradley just laughs. Jake’s gotten him to use moisturizer and sunscreen, that’s as far as he intends to go. He’ll wear his age the way his dad should’ve been able to.

my stubborn pride laying on the floor | 2,751 | multifandommonster / @mitthrawnu

Summary: He didn’t consider the reality, he didn’t really think at all– now he’s shaking against the sink in their locker room, vision blurring with tears as he tries to steady his hand. “C’mon,” he murmurs, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the fog settling into his awareness. “C’mon, fuck–” “As I live and breathe,” a voice interrupts, and Bradley nearly drops the needle with the sigh that makes its way out of him.

i'm just gonna call you mine | 2,869 | ginnydear

Summary: “Oh, you better watch it there, sugar, because I feel an unnecessary roughness penalty in my future,” Rooster replies, watching as Hangman’s dimples appear. He salutes Rooster. “You’re on, sweetcheeks.” it starts with a sarcastic sweetcheeks. (or, five moments from within canon and one from shortly thereafter)

in sickness and in health | 3,063 | res_judicata / @res-judicatas

Summary: “I want a small wedding,” Jake mentions casually as he brews the coffee. Bradley hums in acknowledgement as he scrambles the eggs, “that’s fine with me,” he slides the chopped tomatoes into the hot pan with a sizzle, “so, that would be your extended family, Mav, Ice, the peanut gallery, maybe a handful of our academy buddies-” “No,” Jake shakes his head, “bare minimum,” his voice is suddenly serious, “it’s not a spectacle, you know, all that matters really is that you’re there,” a rueful tilt to his lips, “and I’m there.” He clicks his tongue, "and someone who can make it official... that’s all I need.”

Grit Your Teeth Another Time | 3,323 | Thee_Maxwell

Summary: Hospitals and death weren’t strangers to Bradley Bradshaw, and they always seemed to go hand-in-hand. So he wasn’t particularly thrilled to find himself under watch in the medbay of the aircraft carrier. Or It hits Bradley what almost happened on the mission (and Jake helps him feel better).

Take Him Off Your Hands | 3,554 | electricghosts

Summary: Bradley got orders to Texas while his friends were stationed on the other side of the world. He also never wanted to speak to Maverick again; he was completely and utterly alone. After four long months of moping around and feeling sorry for himself, he finally goes out to have a beer and is greeted by a group of partiers with funny nicknames. One in particular sticks out; an overconfident blonde in a ten-gallon hat by the name of Hangman. Liquid courage and channeling his late father’s charm might just be the key for Bradley to land himself a cowboy.

cowboy, take me away | 3,668 | ginnydear

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

never had a heart to mend | 3,735 | un_familiar

Summary: Bradley won’t stop looking at him with concern, laying kisses on his bare back and asking softly, “Are you okay,” until Jake wants to scream You know what you’re fucking doing to me, but he can’t or he won’t and he’s never felt this helpless in his life. The best he can manage is a soft, “Just tired,” turning back into Bradley’s embrace and thinking God, just let me keep this.

Life in Technicolor | 3,933 | AnadoraBlack / @anadorablack

Summary: “Hey Mav?” “Mmh?” They are sitting on the beach outside their house, feet buried in warm sand as they are watching the sun set. Bradley is leaning on his godfather’s shoulder, trying to imagine what it would be like to see something else than all the – admittedly lovely – shades of grey that make up his world. “When do you think I’ll get my colours?” Mav wraps an arm around his shoulders affectionately. “I only got mine when I was twenty-three, you know. You’ve got time, you’re only fourteen, kiddo…” The brown-haired teenager at his side shrugs again. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s anxious to know what it feels like. To get one’s colours. To find one’s soulmate.

Can't take my eyes off of you | 3,976 | FlowersOnMyMind / @flowersonmymind1016

Summary: An Alpha at the Hard Deck won't leave Rooster alone. Hangman steps in. Oh, and did I mention that Hangman is close to his rut?

5 Times Hangman Took Care of His Team + 1 Time Someone Took Care Of Him | 4,016 | dalearden / @dale-arden

Summary: The Daggers and the rest of the Team stay together for the long leave post mission. That includes Hangman although he is still treated a bit as an outsider. They get into all kind of crazy shit and Rooster starts to notice things. That Jake is the one who starts cleaning after drunk Payback threw up all over the bathroom and knows exactly what cleaning products will do the trick. That when Fritz is arrested for disturbance, he knows how to talk to the cops to get him released. That he can patch Fanboy like a professional medic after the guy got into a fight. That he can cook a meal from nothing, mend clothes and knows everything about meds. Turns out Jake had to take care for his family as the only responsible person since he was 5 years old. First his alcoholic parents and then his dying grandmother. Jake won’t let anyone in, but he will take care of them as much as he can. Rooster wants to change it.

The Way to a Man's Heart | 4,028 | dalearden / @dale-arden

Summary: Jake Seresin is a pilot, currently on medical leave from Naval duty as he recovers from injuries sustatined in an ejection during a training exercise. He's grumpy and bored when he takes a chance on a random coffee shop on a rainy afternoon and meets one Bradley Bradshaw, manager and possibly world's best barista. Bradley wastes no time taking such a pretty broken bird under his wing, winning Jake over through pastries and charm and also by being insanely hot. Then therer's an attempted robbery on the premises, and everything accelerates.

Pressed Sunflowers | 4,030 | Sceld

Summary: His smug expression is the final nail in the coffin for Jake, who is doing a fucking terrible job at hiding his outright shock. “You’re… Good at that,” he says slowly, pretending it’s not doing something for him. or; Jake spends the night at Bradley's place and learns more than he anticipated.

wish I knew how to hold you | 4,661 | Ravens_Words

Summary: Bradley bullies Jake's flight information out of Javy, and it's much easier than he thought it would be. Probably because he doesn't want his best friend to be alone. "Bradshaw," Javy says before he hangs up, "you- I know he doesn't make it easy, but take care of him, will you?" He hesitates, takes a deep breath, "sure." For the first time, he wonders if he made a mistake, bit off more than he can chew. Jake goes back home, Bradley goes with him. It goes about as well as one can expect.

we're not finished here | 4,991 | haridwar

Summary: Jake finds out Maverick has a son in the middle of dogfight football.

in five years time | 5,178 | ginnydear

Summary: Jake’s been planning his five year anniversary gift for Bradley since the day after their four year anniversary.

Taking The Long Way 'Round | 5,278 | DancingDisaster / @dancingdisasterisms

Summary: This probably wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, but he and Seresin hadn’t exactly hit it off when they first met. That said, they did hit it off eventually, and they did it with a bang so resounding it probably should’ve devolved into a fist fight. By the end of the week, Bradley realized there was one small potential problem with the first close friendship he’d managed in years: he thought Jake was beautiful. Well fuck. “It’s not like he doesn’t know, Javy.” “I think you’re underestimating Bradshaw’s tendency towards obliviousness here, Jake.”

i'm coming back to his side to put it right | 5,455 | emozionedapoco

Summary: He can shoot enemy airplanes out of the sky but he can’t for the life of him find some fucking t-shirts. Yeah, that’s doing wonders for his ego. His eyes catch something on a rack near a wall. They’re not t-shirts but shirts and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s noticed them for, but he gets closer anyway. His instincts usually serve him well.

i come from where the rivers meet the sea | 5,864 | luciferinasundaysuit / @vinnylecavaliers

Summary: Phoenix pinches the bridge of her nose. “One night. One night without whatever all this is. My kingdom for one night.” “There’s no all this!” Rooster protests. Like a liar. Hangman takes his arm back, slides off his chair and goes back to the dart board. Rooster tries not to feel cold. “Of course not, Rooster,” Hangman says, just short of condescendingly. “I could never bring a yankee home, and I respect you too much to hit it and quit it.”

watching, waiting, still anticipating love | 5,861 | iridescent

Summary: Bradley’s fingers caress the keys deftly, coaxing a bittersweet melody from the depths of the piano’s body. Then he starts singing, a few lines here and there almost like an afterthought. His voice is low and husky, lends itself naturally to this sort of soppy and overly sentimental love song. He doesn’t seem to notice Jake being there at all. Despite himself, Jake is transfixed.

But Here I Am, Loving You More Than You’ll Ever Know | 5,872 | thatsquirrelfromiceage

Summary: The sound of Rooster’s voice may as well be another explosion, another heavy breath set free from the bottom of his stomach. It’s the moment he begins to understand what his mother wanted when she clutched and prayed to her rosary beads every night. Another reminder that he’s coming home. He’s coming home.

my heart is out, my guard is down | 5,886 | blood_mocha_latte / @blood-mocha-latte

Summary: “Hey!” He yells, giving Seresin what he hopes is a suave ‘yep, ‘tis I, your saviour’ look. Judging by the look on the other man's face, he fails. “Are you alright?” Hangman shouts back, stumbling even closer. Bradley scrubs a hand down his face, stepping towards him. “Yeah! Are you–” Seresin shoves him into the snowbank with his good hand, face screwed up in what seems to be an odd mixture of worry and anger. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” He’s still yelling, but his voice cracks on the last word and he coughs, spitting concerningly black spit to the side. “I died for you, moron!” He’s still angry but his voice is shaky, and quiet, and Bradley thinks rather disjointedly that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hangman actually distressed before.

the blond devil before me | 6,174 | closet_monster

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw had a type, and Hangman had always wanted to be it.

On This Day, This Accursed Day | 6,452 | Sceld

Summary: “Bradshaw,” Jake says with a grin. Rooster groans. “As I live and breathe.” “Hangman,” Rooster replies loftily, “You look…” He pauses for a second too long as his eyes stall on Jake’s shirt. “My eyes are up here, Rooster,” Jake teases, grateful the way his heart is pounding doesn’t transfer to his voice.

Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

#hangster #sereshaw #hangster reclist #reclist #top gun maverick reclist #fanfic reclist

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tngrace · 1 month

Text

Chapter 3

Hope 31..... nough said 🤭 😭 This one hurts... but man did I have fun writing this chapter and the next. I also figured out how I'm going to write the last chapter this week so hopefully in the next two weeks I'll get it written. and then it'll be on to part two. Hope yall enjoy and Happy Easter weekend.

A03 ; Tumblr Masterlists: Main, Mav Chronicles

The weekend is fun and relaxing and just what they needed. Watching Pete with Bradley is a true treat and makes Tom wish for things he knows will probably never be. They head into Monday morning refreshed and ready to go, none of them realizing what’s to come.

The second hop of the day is intense, Mav and Ice going up against each other, essentially sealing the winner of the trophy. Though neither of them really care at this point, would be happy for the other, they’re both still very competitive and determined to win. They go back and forth for the kill, their voices getting more intense and annoyed the longer it goes, more argumentative and impatient. But neither expected the jet wash or the flat spin.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mav’s in trouble. He’s in a flat spin. He’s heading out to sea!” His voice is calm and controlled but there’s a slight tremor there as he watches.

He and Slider see the two parachutes, but they know something’s wrong. He circles over head, refusing to leave, even when Jester orders them back.

“Ice,” Slider says after ten minutes of circling, watching Mav and Goose in the water.

“I’m not leaving. We don’t know how long search and rescue will take to get here. They’ll need the coordinates as Mav floats.”

Slider doesn’t push. They both had seen how Goose had hit the canopy, how his body floated listlessly down, how Mav had pulled him into his arms and Goose still didn’t move. Ice keeps circling, and ever so often it looks like Mav looks up at them, but they can’t be sure.

“Ice, Slider, back to base. SAR is two minutes out.” Viper’s voice is firm over their radio, and finally Ice acknowledges and turns them towards base. He doesn’t say a word on the return flight, leaving Slider worried.

Mike's heart is in his throat when he hears the mayday call come in. He dispatches search and rescue immediately and grips his hands in tight fists as he waits. He hears Jester order Ice and Slider back to base, but he still doesn't move. He wants to be a dad in this moment but he can't. He has to be a Commander and it's killing him.

He sees Jester’s plane land, and he takes a deep breath, and then another one. He dials Carrie; "Metcalf's," she answers.

"I'm going to be late." He doesn't know what else to say without breaking down, but he has to tell her.

"Mike? What's wrong?"

"There…." He cuts off, choking back a sob. He breathes deep before he continues. "There was an accident during training. I'll be at the base hospital most of the night."

"Is everyone ok?"

"I don't know yet. I just…. Waiting on SAR right now. I…"

"Mike?"

"It was Pete," he breathes. He hears her breath catch and he'd love nothing more than to hug her. "I…. I can't go there as…. And you can't…"

"Mike. You call me the minute you lay eyes on him! You hear me? I have to know…" He can hear the hysteria in her voice and he’d love to let her come check on Pete for herself, but he knows they can’t.

"I will… I will… I just… I have to be detached and I just…"

"I know. Just breathe. You can do this. But you let me know our boy's ok."

He takes another ten deep breaths after hanging up. When he sees that Ice and Slider still haven’t landed, he orders them back to base as well. He’s not sure what is going on with Tom and Pete, but he knows it’s something. Once he sees their plane heading for the landing strip, he pulls himself together and heads to the hangar where he knows the class will have gathered. “You’re dismissed for the day. SAR will take them straight to the base hospital and we’ll let you know when there’s an update.”

“Can we wait there?” Wolf asks.

“Of course. But you might be waiting a while.” He takes in all their faces and knows he’ll be seeing them all at the hospital. “Dismissed.”

They scatter, and Mike rakes his hand through his hair. He’d kill for one of Rick’s cigarettes at that moment, but he knows the hospital won’t allow him to have it inside anyways. He makes the trek over, bracing for the worst while hoping for the best. He’s not sure what he’ll do if something happened to his own kid under his watch.

A nurse greets him as soon as he enters; “Sir.” He gives her a nod to continue because he’s not sure if he can speak right now. “Lieutenant Mitchell is going to be fine. He has some severe bruising, mild concussion and is currently in shock, but overall he will make a full recovery.”

Mike blows out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “And Bradshaw?”

The nurse stops their trek down the hall and Mike tenses once more. “I’m sorry Sir. Lieutenant Bradshaw didn’t make it. His neck was broken and likely died upon impact, we assume he hit the canopy. Lieutenant Mitchell hasn’t offered up any details on what happened as of yet, so the doctor is just making assumptions.”

“Has Bradshaw’s wife been informed?”

“Not yet, no. We were waiting to see who you wanted to designate to do that.”

“I’ll handle it,” Mike decides. “Can I see Mitchell?”

“Of course. Right this way.” She shows him to Pete’s room, and Mike pauses, gathering the strength to push the door open. When he does, he feels the breath knocked out of him once more. Pete looks so small in the bed, eyes closed, but Mike knows he’s not asleep.

The nurse leaves him with it, and Mike quietly closes the door behind him. Pete’s eyes snap open at the sound of the door closing, and when they meet Mike’s, he quickly turns his head the other way.

He pulls up a chair beside the bed, and tentatively reaches out for Pete’s hand that has an IV in it. He can see where Pete has picked at the tape around it, and it brings a small smile to his face as he smooths it back out. Some things with his kid will never change, he thinks. “Pete?”

Pete turns his head back towards him, tears shining in his eyes, but he keeps them from falling.

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re ok because I know you’re not.” He pauses as he watches Pete just staring at him. “I told mom. She’d be here if she could, you know.”

“I know,” he croaks in a whisper.

Mike squeezes his hand tighter once more. “You’re not ok right now, but you will be…. You will be.”

Pete turns away again and Mike sighs. “We have to be even more careful now, so this is the only time I can offer you any form of comfort kiddo. There’s going to be an inquiry; they’ll let me know the date tomorrow.” Pete still won’t meet his eyes and Mike feels like they’re back at day one when they brought home a scared nine year old that didn’t trust them. “Pete? You know I love you son. But I need you to know that right now and for the next however long it takes to get the brass off our backs, I can’t be ‘dad’. No matter how bad I want to be.”

Pete gives him a tentative nod, and Mike can’t resist any longer. He leans over and pulls Pete into his arms, into his chest. He resists at first, but the first hint of Mike’s cologne and Pete breaks. The sobs break Mike’s heart even more, and he just holds him. He murmurs soft innate words of comfort as his son breaks in his arms. It takes several, several long minutes before Pete starts settling, his sobs turning to quiet sniffles, before he eventually just goes silent.

Mike softly strokes his back as he keeps holding him. “I’ll try to sneak mom in after hours ok?”

He knows Carrie isn’t going to rest with just his reassurance that Pete is ok, and he knows Pete really needs her at this moment. Pete gives a small nod before his whispered words destroy what is left of his broken heart. “Just don’t get in trouble for me.”

Mike pulls Pete’s head off his chest and stares into Pete’s eyes. “We’d do anything for you and you know it kiddo. If it comes down to a choice between you and the Navy…” Pete tries to interrupt him, but Mike just keeps talking. “If it does, I’m choosing you every time kiddo. Every. Single. Time.”

“Mike…”

“I mean it Pete. You are my son, my kid, and if the Navy doesn’t like it, they can go fuck themselves. You matter Pete. I love you son.”

“Love you too dad,” he whispers as he falls back into Mike’s chest.

Mike lets out a deep breath at that. Pete isn’t ok, but he’ll make sure he is, no matter what he has to do.

After several minutes of letting Pete resettle he has the horrible task of making Pete recount what happened. It’s the most detached he’s ever heard his kid, and it strengthens his resolve to sneak Carrie in to see him later. Once he’s sure he has everything Pete can recall, he squeezes his hand once more. “Try to get some rest. I can keep the others out if you want?”

“Na. It’s fine. I’m sure they need to see with their eyes I’m fine. Especially Ice and Slider.”

“Alright. I’ll let them know.” He leans close in case anyone can hear; “I’ll get mom in here later. That’s a promise.”

Pete gives him a weak nod. They both know what a risk it is, but he’d do it over and over for Pete. He gives him a nod and then heads for the door, with one glance back at his son.

Mike’s not surprised to find the six aviators waiting in the waiting room. They all jump up as soon as they see him, and Mike pulls himself together. “Mitchell is going to be fine. Some bruises that will heal in time and a mild concussion. He’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

He sees a small relief flow through the group, and he knows what he says next will cause it to vanish.

“Bradshaw on the other hand, is… dead. Broke his neck on the canopy as soon as he hit. I’m going to inform his wife now.”

The six aviators before him are deathly quiet, grief written across all their faces.

“Can we see Mav?” Wolfe finally breaks the silence.

Mike gives them a nod. “He’s pretty detached, still in shock. He’s resting, but he said it would be fine for all of you to visit. Probably do him some good to not be alone right now. Classes are dismissed for the rest of the week. When arrangements have been made, you’ll be the first to know.” He gives them a nod of dismissal and takes his leave.

The six aviators scurry down the hall to Mav’s room. Wolf and Wood are through the door first, just barely squeezing in before Chipper and Sunny. Ice stands at the door for a long moment just breathing, trying to prepare, and Slider waits with him squeezing his shoulder. Tom wants nothing more than to race in and scoop Pete into his arms, but he knows he can’t. Once he lays eyes on his boyfriend, who’s barely engaging with the other four, he leans in the corner just watching. He can see Pete’s eyes trail over to him ever so often, and he finally sees when Slider realizes they need to go. Tom gives him a nod of thanks, and promises to get back to their base housing later, before Ron turns and ushers everyone out.

Once he’s sure they’re gone, he walks over and settles on the side of Pete’s bed. His hand ghosts over Pete’s forehead, brushing the hair back. “Hey,” he whispers.

Pete can’t speak, too choked up holding back tears.

“Come here,” Tom whispers, easing down and helping Pete sit up some and lean into his arms. He holds him as tight as he dares, knowing under the gown Pete will be covered in bruises too painful to be held too tight. “I’m so sorry,” Tom whispers over and over as Pete sobs in his arms. He finally exhausts himself even more, and Tom can feel him drift off. He eases Pete back to the bed and covers him up. He sits and watches him sleep, knowing the coming days, weeks, and months are going to be hell, and wonders if Pete will blame him, wonders if this will be the end of them. Once Pete is deep asleep, Tom takes his leave, knowing he can’t stay any longer without them being found out.

After talking with Carole, he finally makes it home; it’s late enough he knows he’ll just be leaving as soon as he’s through the door though. Carrie is waiting on him at the door just as he suspected, and he pulls her into his arms. “He’s going to be ok. Just some bruising and a mild concussion. He was still in shock earlier. I…” He feels her squeeze him tighter and he lets out a soft sigh. “I promised to sneak you in. He needs you.”

“Do we tell the girls?”

“Not yet. Sneaking you in is going to be hard enough. I don’t need Catherine leaving Cynthia and banging down the hospital door or Jamie freaking out.”

Carrie gives him a soft huff of a laugh. “Alright. Let me get my purse and we can go.”

Once at the hospital, Mike nods to the night nurses, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t see any of the class in the waiting room, and assuming they’re not still with Pete, they should be at home. He stops right outside Pete’s room and tries to listen for any voices, but doesn’t hear any. He pushes the door open just a hair, and sees it empty, Pete just lying in the bed staring off into space.

He turns back and gives Carrie a nod, before pushing the door open further for her to slip past him. He closes the door behind them, but stays near it, so he can run interference if anyone comes to it. As soon as she’s by his side, she sits on the side of the bed and pulls Pete into her arms.

“Mom,” he cries as he clings to her, and it breaks Mike’s heart even more. Carrie just hugs him tight, her hand running up and down his back and into his hair.

When Pete has finally exhausted himself of tears, he whispers “I killed him,” effectively tearing both his parents’ hearts out.

Mike moves across the room at that statement, joining Carrie on the side of the bed. He eases Pete back from her hold and cradles his face. “Look at me son.”

Pete slowly meets his eyes, unable to ignore the firm demand in Mike’s voice. “You did not kill Nick. You did not kill him. You hear me?”

“I did though. He was my RIO, my responsibility.”

“Pete…”

Carrie cuts him off though, knowing that Pete isn’t going to believe a word of any argument at the moment. She cradles Pete’s cheek and kisses his forehead. “You need to get some sleep sweetheart.”

“Don’t think I can,” he sighs. He knows he’d fallen asleep on Tom, but it doesn’t feel like he slept long at all before a nightmare gripped him. When he’d woken and been alone, he laid there staring off into space, knowing sleep would be hard to come by.

“Try. We’ll stay til you’re asleep,” she promises.

She gets him to ease back against the bed, and softly runs her fingers through his hair. It’s the fastest way to settle Pete; they'd learned the first time the kid hadn’t gotten sick after coming to live with them. She keeps it up until his eyes drift, and even after until he’s deep asleep.

“He’s going to be ok,” Mike reassures her as they watch him sleep for a few more minutes. They don’t linger long though, despite Carrie wanting to stay.

The next morning, the inquiry information is waiting on Mike the minute he steps on base. He goes through Mav’s file one more time to make sure nothing of their connection is hidden in there, even though he knows the file like the back of his hand. When he’s sure everything is good, he makes the trek over to the base hospital to deliver the news about the inquiry. From here on he knows everything has to be above board until the brass is done sniffing around.

When he walks into Pete’s room, he’s surprised to see him not there. He has a moment of panic before one of the nurses points him towards the bathroom down the hall. He gives her a nod and heads in. Mav is leaning heavily on the sink, but he somehow managed to shave. Mike catalogs the bruising along his chest and shoulders from his harness that he wasn’t able to see yesterday because of the gown. He knows there’s probably some along his thighs as well, he just can’t see them. He wants so badly to pull his kid into his arms and never let go, but they also have more eyes on them now more than ever. He just has to be careful, not show emotion or favoritism, he keeps reminding himself, and they’ll get through this. He calls on all his years in the service to keep it together as he meets his kids' eyes. He doesn’t like what he sees; Pete’s eyes have always been alive and full of mischief. They always shine and sparkle so bright. But right now, they are dead, lifeless, emotionless, same as yesterday.”How you doing?” he manages to ask.

“I’m alright.” It’s rough and so much quieter than Pete normally talks it throws Mike for a minute. He spins and meets Pete’s eyes in the mirror trying to portray that he has to be a Commander at the moment.

“Goose is dead.” Internally he winces at how straightforward and harsh he has to be, and he knows the minute Carrie finds out, she is going to be livid. But they all knew when Pete joined up, that a time like this might come, and Pete told him then, as a bright eyed eighteen year old, that he’d never hold it against him.

“I know.” His eyes drop back to the sink, hand splashing more water onto his face, and Mike can see he’s barely holding it together. He wants to tell him to come home with him, let Carrie mother him to death, but he bites it all back. Seeing her last night is going to have to be enough for now. Pete runs another hand over his face, and takes some deep breaths. Mike recalls words one of his former COs told him after Duke died. At the time he hated it, and he knows Pete is going to hate being told the same thing, but he needs to say it. “You fly jets long enough, something like this happens.”

“He was my RIO, my responsibility!” It’s an echo of his statement last night and Mike knows the guilt is eating him alive. He knows he’s going to have to work hard to get Pete to let it go, if that will even be possible. He knows Goose was like a brother to him; that Carole and Goose both welcomed Pete into their family. But he can’t see his kid drown in grief, not if he can help it.

“In my squadron in Vietnam, we lost eight of eighteen aircraft. Ten men. First one dies, you die too. But there will be others. You can count on it. You gotta let him go.” His hand touches his side, draws across his back, offering as much comforting touch as he can in that moment. “You gotta let him go.” He knows it's harsh, hates the words coming out of his own mouth, but as a Commander, it’s what you’re supposed to say.

Pete’s eyes are hard as they stare at him despite being red rimmed, but Mike does his best to let it roll off his back. “Your inquiry hearing is scheduled for two days from now at 0800. Jester and I will be there. I don’t see any reasons why you won’t be cleared and can return to finish the program before graduation.”

Pete doesn’t say anything and won’t meet his eyes again. He walks away even though it kills him too. He passes Tom in the parking lot and he knows he was right about something going on between the two. He gives the Lieutenant a nod, wants to pull him to the side and threaten him if he so much as dares to break Pete in any way. But he knows he can’t, so he keeps walking and just hopes Tom will be able to get through to his kid.

Tom finds Pete back in his room, trying to dress. “Can I help?” he asks from the doorway.

Pete gives him a nod and Tom comes over, helping him pull his shirt down. The bruising looks worse today, and his body is stiff and achy. He’s refused anymore pain pills though and just wants to leave. “I saw Viper leaving.”

“Mmm yea. Stopped by to give me the information for the inquiry hearing.”

“It wasn’t your fault Pete.”

“Let’s not. I don’t… I just want to get out of here.”

Tom bites back all his retorts that Pete needs to talk about this and just gives him a nod. “Carole and Bradley are at the base housing. I can take you there.”

Pete gives him another nod, and follows Tom out the door. Once in the car, the silence is almost unbearable. “Pete…” Tom starts when they’re in front of the housing, but stops when Pete cuts his eyes at him.

“Might be best if we just had some space right now. You don’t need messed up in this hearing too.”

“I have to be there because I was in the air with you.”

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Tom wants to argue, wants to push that Pete doesn’t need to do this or push everyone away, but his own guilt is eating him alive. Thus, he’d do anything Pete asks. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Pete won’t meet his eyes so Tom knows he’s lying. “I just want him back,” Pete says softly before he gets out. He closes the door and doesn’t look back.

Tom watches him go, his heart breaking, but knowing he will give Pete anything. He watches until Pete is inside the door before driving off.

#my writing #maverick chronicles #icemav #icemav fic #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #nick goose bradshaw #mike viper metcalf #vipapa #top gun #tg #top gun fic #tg fic #MCD

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threadsun · 1 month

Text

Sleepy Asks: "ayo sleepy here back from a beach vacation! Now I have a totally unrelated prompt for you!

For your blorbos: .... What if we kissed 🥺👉👈"

Zander - "Sure thing, love! Where d'ya want me to plant one on you?"

He's very affectionate, so he's always down for a kiss! It's rare for him to initiate, but he'll eagerly reciprocate and probably slip you some tongue while he's at it...

Lee - "I'm down to find out if you are~"

His kissing style is pretty desperate. Lots of groping and generally being all over you. He's not got much experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm!

Mav - "Yeah, I think we could do that."

They're not used to kissing, but they're pretty good at it. It's rare that he gets involved with anyone, but he's immortal so "rare" still means quite a lot of people.

Charles - "Us? K-kissing? I... I don't know..."

He sucks at kissing. Straight up just awful at it. He's always trying not to let his fangs in the way, and he's too proper to actually do anything fun or interesting unless provoked.

Lin - "Kissing? How wonderful! Come here, pet~"

He's an eager, sloppy, handsy kisser. Honestly, he'll leave you too dizzy and breathless and confused to know whether or not he's actually a good kisser.

Etienne - "How sweet. Sit in my lap and I'll show you what happens~"

He is, objectively, an amazing kisser. Seriously, he'll blow your fucking mind if you let him. It'll never stop at just kissing though, not with him.

Lucky - "A snog? Alright."

He's not bad, but he's definitely rough with it. His lips will press hard against yours, and they're chapped and warm. It's nice, but not soft or sweet.

Ash - "Then we'd be kissing?"

It's not super good at reading social cues, but it's good at the actual kissing part. Just the right amount of nipping and sucking and slipping you tongue.

Glitch - "'What if we kissed?' Ugh."

It takes a lot of work to get him to kiss you, but when he does... Look, Glitch was literally made to pleasure people. He's a good kisser, even/especially with the rough tongue~

Callum - "Sounds like a fun time~"

His kisses are sloppy and messy and overeager, like a dog. He'll be all over you, lots of tongue and drool and wandering hands. It's gross, but... pretty hot, if you're into that!

Fergal - "Worth a try, no?"

His kisses are soft, warm, sweet. At least at first. He lets you take the lead somewhat, but once he's sure you're into it, he'll let it get steamier and more intense.

Yofi - "How delightful. I'm sure I can indulge you~"

Kissing her is like... well, kissing an angel. Warm, gentle, just the barest brush of lips against yours that leaves you wanting more, even as they build up to fully making out.

Yana - "Yeah, not gonna happen."

She finds kissing gross. She doesn't want your mouth anywhere near her unless it's so she can knock your teeth out. And her mouth will only get near you to bite.

Azza - "One of my favourite things to do~"

He loves making out with people, he could spend hours kissing you breathless and hours more lavishing kisses across your body. You'll have 100% of his attention the whole time.

Aisling - "Sounds gross, I'm in!"

She doesn't really know how kissing works. He's done it before, but no one's been brave enough to tell him he uses too much teeth and tongue. They're just here for fun!

Gin - "When and where?"

She's always up for kissing! I hope you don't mind sharp teeth, because she loves the taste of blood~ She'll make sure to soothe your lips with her tongue after biting them.

Missy - "I so wish I could..."

No skin on skin contact means no kissing, unfortunately for her. If y'all somehow found a way to make it work though, you'd need to take the lead. She has no idea what she's doing.

Izzy - "You want a snog? I'm game."

She's a good kisser! A bit exciteable, but she'll match whatever energy you're bringing really. She might get a bit giggly though, especially if she really likes you!

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topgunreacts · 7 months

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the heart is an empty room! ice is so softserve coded. tell me more about him. give me an update on the creature. i am tapping the glass of his little enclosure.

There’s a lot going on in that story. But the main theme I’m trying to hit is that love has to be a choice even when it appears destined to be. Beyond that, it is a direct criticism of the myth of the nuclear family, a relationship paradigm that never existed naturally in human populations. It is a forced family model that only succeeded economically for a brief time, and its echoes have caused intergenerational damage that we are still feeling today. It’s not the way things have always been.

In Ice’s generation, the idea that a soulmate represents the most perfect, idealized relationship you will ever have is just blithely accepted as Truth. Of course you drop everything to be with them. Of course it’s you and them against the world. Of course there is no room for other people or other kinds of love. The most recent chapter with Abigail tears that down with the implication that no, actually, the perfect soulmates happy ending is not realistic. In her generation it was perfectly normal to put off your soulmate after the Meeting because while that mark guarantees the Meeting itself, it does NOT mean that moment is where you drop everything to be with them. Maybe it’s not a good time. Maybe your soulmate isn’t all that great and if they want you so bad they can improve themselves first.

I get why true love wish fulfillment is what most people expect when they visit the soulmates store, but that’s not what’s on tap at The Olde Empty Room. I’ll probably do more soulmates shit with Ice and Mav that isn’t as heavy, but I really enjoy pushing back on tropes that involve destiny in any capacity.

And as for Ice himself, Act One was his opportunity to acknowledge the reality of his situation and ask his own questions about the marks and True Love. And he does. He is hurt a lot in the process, because in this AU he has a bit more stars in his eyes when it comes to his soulmate. But he also heals from it, especially in Act Two. Act Three is more about Maverick, and how he finds his identity and develops his relationship with Ice in a post-Henri world.

#top gun #icemav #writing #ask #top gun fanfiction #the heart is an empty room

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lesbian-empress-nero · 4 months

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The riverbank was beautiful that day.

The sun shone down, casting Yosuke and his partner in a lustrious golden light.

Yosuke stood with his back to Yu, hugging himself. It was now or never, he told himself. If he didn’t get everything off his chest now, he would never have the opportunity to again.

“...There’s something I wanted to tell you,” he said, taking a deep breath. Now or never.

“Somewhere deep down... I didn’t trust you.”

He paused. Was that really it? Was that the true heart of how he had felt in the beginning?

No, he decided. It wasn’t.

“No, it’s more like.... I was jealous of you,” Yosuke amended. He grimaced at the memory of how he had been before, shallow and self-centered and bored.

“I thought you were like me,” he muttered. Shallow and self-centered and looking for something to do in the small town of Inaba. “Coming to the city to the countryside, I thought you’d be bored out of your mind here. But as soon as you got here, you called your Persona... Became our leader, gathered people... You’re a hero.”

Yosuke turned his gaze up to the azure sky. Bright and boundless, there secrets held within the velvety blue depths that Yosuke used to long to grasp. Now, though....

“I like you for that, and I’m proud of you... But I guess I was jealous at the same time,” he admitted, though that was only one weight off his chest. Others were still pressing down on his throat, threatening to close it up. He yearned to spill everything to his partner, even if it meant being abandoned once again.

“I didn’t know...” Yu’s voice was painfully soft. His words echoed in Yosuke’s head, wrapped his heart in a burning hug that he wished would never end.

“I didn’t know it either...” Yosuke muttered, bowing his head and taking another deep breath. He was taking a lot of those in this conversation. Maybe it was because he felt like passing out right there on the grass.

“When I called you special, I thought some more about it. I think out of everyone, I wanted to be acknowledged by you the most.”

He turned to face his partner, the one who helped him get this far.

“But I focused all my attention on the murders, to avoid having to confront myself. So long as I don’t try, nothing will change- even if we catch the killer.”

The tears he had tried to fight back for so long were making an appearance, but he fought against them anyways.

“Right now, I’m just plain old me. And I want to do what I can with everything I’ve got! With you guys...” He grinned through his misty eyes, hugging his elbows.

“...I never knew I had such- heat inside- Uh, don’t make me stay stuff like that-!” He suddenly looked up, cheeks burning. Despite being so flustered, there was a pang of panic. Would Yu leave after this? Would he be left to spill his heart out to the river and the birds, with no partner to lean on?

“...Don’t go...” He murmured, and Yu took his hand wordlessly, staring at him. Waiting for his next words.

“...I like you,” Yosuke whispered, and Yu leaned forward.

Their lips crashed together, and Yosuke felt as though the world finally made sense. That odd tight feeling in his chest whenever he saw Yu, the blooming warmth whenever-

God, he needed to remember to breathe.

Though it didn’t feel so bad when his partner was the one stealing it away from him.

THIS IS WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN P4 YOU CANT TELL ME OTHERWISE!!! THIS IS LEAKED

I LOVE THE USE OF THE UNUSED VOICELINES AND AND I FELT SO GOOD WHEN THEY KISSED!!! THE BOYS ARE KISSING!!!!!! I LOVE YOU MAV THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FUELING ME GRRRRGGGAAAGAAGHHHH

#nero answers #shackle-foes #souyo #persona 4

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icemavly · 10 months

Text

prompt: mav and ice having a tickle fight until they’re breathless.

tags: 578 words of fluff-turned-sappy with too many thoughts, post-canon, 1986, set during the first month of icemav being together, no beta we die like old engines.

“I’m telling you Ice, I’m getting old,” Pete says while sighing dramatically. He’s laying on the couch, shirtless, still catching his breath after his usual morning run that he claims to hate so much.

Tom is standing in front of the kitchen counter, putting the freshly-washed strawberries into two bowls, one green and one blue. He rolls his eyes at Pete’s words, not holding back a little smile. “Always knew you’d be the first to give up, Mitchell,” he replies jokingly, turning towards the living room.

“You can only wish, Kazansky.” Pete’s eyes are closed, and he looks content. His right arm comfortably supports his head and the left one is abandoned on his torso, fingers brushing against his right side. It’s a sight. Tom may be biased by the fact that he’s utterly infatuated, but it’s also an objective, totally external point of view.

He takes a few steps to reach the couch, and stops his thoughts from wandering off. He tries to not think at all as he climbs on it, straddling Mav’s lap.

Maverick lets out a surprised sound, and his hands fly to Ice’s hips to steady him. “Woah, bold move Iceman.”

Tom smiles, bright and energetic, “trying to see if you’re really getting old.” Then his gaze softens, a shy look appears on his face. Pete feels something fluttering in his chest at the way he’s being looked at – lovingly. It looks like love, an everlasting kind. His heart aches with how much he wants it to be.

He looks down briefly, tightening the grip on Ice’s tights, stroking his skin with his thumbs. When he looks up, his signature Maverick smirk sits on his lips. It’s the same look that he gave Tom the first time they met. It’s the look that he wants to give him anytime, because he can’t believe that Tom Iceman Kazansky fell for him, and that he fell for Tom.

(He actually can believe it, his heart knew what his brain wouldn’t dare to acknowledge since the beginning.)

He smirks and the sparkle in his eyes screams I love you in a thousand different ways, starting from I love you, ‘till you’re by my side, my everyday life will the best of my adventures.

“You’re up to no good with that smile, Maverick.”

“Me? Please, I could never.”

Tom giggles, and then he lowers himself towards Mav, who thinks he may die right there, while willingly letting Ice having full control over him. You lower your guard once and that’s how you end up.

(He’d do it again, and again, and again.)

Lost in his thoughts, Mav doesn’t realize until it’s too late that Ice is catching him by surprise. His fingers find his sides and his stomach and start to tickle him.

“You little shit,” Maverick laughs while desperately trying to protect himself.

“Little shit? Me? You’re not exactly in a position that allows you to say such things.”

And Maverick laughs even louder, even if he’s already planning his revenge. His own hands are helpless against Tom’s fingers, so he goes for the wisest option left: tickle back. In a tangle of hands and arms he’s now brushing his fingertips against Tom’s neck and collarbone.

Their laughter fills the room until they are both breathless. Ice semi-collapses against Mav, blurting our a “sorry” and trying to move over; Mav doesn’t let him, pulling him closer, finding comfort in such closeness and in his weight over him.

#ao3 is down so i was forced to write #might have screamed in frustration a couple of times #top gun #top gun: maverick #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #icemav fic #icemav fanfiction #icemavly.writes

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

Text

Operation Death Wish | Chapter 6

Masterlist

Synopsis: Jake Seresin knew what it was like to lose people he loved, he’d been losing them his whole life. Yet in the midst of chaos as the world as he knew it ended Jake found somebody he never wanted to lose. But what if he’d already lost her. Warnings: swearing, dystopian descriptions, gore, death, violence, alien descriptions, fighting, sexual images, 18+ (minors dni), angst, some fluff at times. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradley Bradshaw had always considered himself to be a good person, he always tried his best in everything he did and he’d do anything for the people he loved. He strove to do his best even after his career was set back by Maverick and yet he worked hard and achieved his dream career as an aviator, following in his father's footsteps. He loved his job and it just so happened that that was how he met you, the love of his life.

Bradley sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes as his mind ran in circles of endless confusion. Annie was still asleep next to him, her brown hair swept over her back covering her naked form as she stretched out across the ruffled sheets from the previous night’s activities. Bradley felt so guilty, not only did he feel like he had betrayed you but he also betrayed her too, both of whom knew nothing of the other.

Bradley stood, stretching his aching legs before pulling on some loose jogging bottoms and a shirt. He always started his days with a run so why would that change when the world ended? He’d always found it helped him think, to gather his thoughts for the day ahead.

His morning route took him to the edge of the compound where he followed the outer wall around, passing the tower and the hangars and back around to the on-base houses. As his feet pounded the tarmac Bradley’s mind was racing, thoughts of you clouded his judgment as he tried to reason with himself. ‘I thought she was dead so is it technically cheating? Jesus Christ, Bradley it’s only been 5 months and you already jumped into bed with another woman.’

Bradley stopped, his heart pounding out of his chest as he bent over, rubbing his hand over his bristly moustache, cursing softly under his breath.

“Bradley? Are you ok?” Fuck! Just the man he’d been trying to avoid.

“Mav!” Bradley greeted him a little too enthusiastically as the older man jogged over, his dark hair looking slightly unkempt and dark rings circling his eyes, causing the crow's feet to look more prominent than normal.

“How are you holding up?” Pete placed a hand gently against Bradley’s sweaty back, something that he did often but at this point made Bradley’s flesh crawl. How could he explain to the man he considered a father that he had cheated on his daughter? To Maverick you would always be his little girl and if Bradley was to ever hurt you Mav wouldn’t think twice about laying him out.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bradley tried to keep the conversation light, starting to jog again in the hope that Pete wouldn’t be able to keep up. But of course he was right alongside him, chatting away and not even breaking a sweat.

“Good. I’m glad. I haven’t been able to sleep much since finding out my baby girl’s alive. I just can’t believe we found her.”

“Me neither,” Bradley tried his best to put on a fake smile but the images of you looking completely heartbroken clouded his enthusiasm. Pete watched him confused. He always had a knack for knowing when something was off and this situation was definitely off.

“Is there something you wanna tell me, kiddo?” Pete asked, watching as Bradley tried using his best poker face but he’d never been a good liar.

“I’m fine,” Bradley gave Pete a quick curt nod, “I’m a little tired so I think I’m just gonna head home.” And with that Bradley turned and jogged away. Pete watched him go, a bewildered look on his face. There was something clearly wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

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

Golden threads of morning light crept through the thin curtains onto your sleeping frames. Your legs were entangled between Jake’s and his strong arm was wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to his muscular body. His breath fanning across your cheek and the grip he had on your waist tightened slightly as he stirred. You moved slightly, pressing yourself into Jake which caused him to release a low moan.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Darlin’,” his morning voice was rough and gravely, a deep timbre that was like music to your ears, calming and exciting you at the same time. You pressed your backside further against his crotch and he hissed, flipping you over roughly so you were pinned beneath his large frame.

“What did I just say, Darlin’,” he began placing tender kisses along your collarbone, teasing the skin between his teeth. You giggled at his antics, running a hand through his tousled blond hair.

Jake propped himself up above you, a sincere smile gracing his slightly swollen lips. You reached up to kiss him gently, this time filled with all the love you felt for him. It was soft and you caressed his cheek. Jake licked his lips slowly looking at you again. You could tell he was a little apprehensive but you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease the anxiety that you knew he was feeling, the knots in his shoulders tense beneath your fingers.

“What’s wrong, Jake?”

His eyes darted from yours to your lips then to above your head like he couldn’t quite look you in the eye. “I was just wondering if… well if you meant it.” He whispered, watching your face carefully for any sign.

“Meant what, Baby?” You ran your fingers down his cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear.

He cleared his throat, trying to come across as more confident. “That you love me.” His voice was strained and you could tell that even though he was trying to act like his normal somewhat cocky self he couldn’t find the strength in him. He genuinely cared what you thought.

“Of course I meant it. I love you, Jake Seresin, with my whole heart.” As soon as the words left your mouth he crashed his lips to yours, wrapping his fingers into your hair and pulling you closer than you thought possible, your naked forms wrapping around each other. Jake’s mouth placed feather-like kisses down your neck and you sighed into his touch, wanting to feel every moment of this as if it was the last time. This thought made you sad, you didn’t want it to be the last time with Jake, but what about Bradley? You couldn’t help the guilty feeling rising in your chest like an uncontrolled fire that just couldn’t be put out. You’d never wanted to hurt Bradley, he was a good guy and you had gotten each other through a lot over the years. He’d always been comfortable from when you’d spent summer evenings sitting together watching the sunset, to when you held him as he cried over his mother's diagnosis. You’d helped him through the loss of his mother and your father pulling his papers and he’d helped you grieve the loss of your father after your relationship fell apart and your substitute mother. You’d both lost so much but you’d always had each other and that was all that had mattered. There was always the thought in the back of your mind that you’d just settled for Bradley because he was safe and he was there. You’d never meant to settle and you did love him but not in the way you should. He should have been at the forefront of your mind as soon as you woke up and before you went to sleep and at one point he had been, but not anymore. Ever since you’d watched Jake Seresin and his cocky charisma strolling across base he’d filled your every waking moment and as much as you tried to deny it you were in love with him. He was your true love, passionate love, the running across town in the middle of the night in the rain kind of love, the going to the airport to stop him leaving kind of love, the love from fairytales and rom-com films. Jake brought so much into your life and you finally felt whole again. Bradley had been that love once but you’d grown as people as well as apart. In the back of your mind you worried about seeing him again, how would you explain it to him?

Jake continued to kiss down your neck, bringing you back to the moment.

“We really should get going,” you watched as his face dropped and he pouted at you.

“Five more minutes,” he pleaded and you laughed at his child-like antics.

“Come on, we've gotta get going before we lose the light.” You pushed his shoulders and he rolled off of you groaning. You stood up reaching for your clothes and Jake let out a low whistle, watching your every movement as you walked around the room naked.

“Like what you see, Seresin?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip between your teeth.

“Yes ma’am,” he purred, crawling across the bed like a cat to look at you.

“Well, if you keep at it, then you might get another reward.” You leant forward seductively, watching as Jake’s face grew closer to your breast before moving away quickly.

“Now get up, Lieutenant.” You laughed as he moaned, calling after you as you left the room.

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

You’d made good progress and arrived at the outskirts of Tucson before nightfall. Jake had held your hand for most of the way or had his hand resting on your shoulder or back. It seemed that as long as he was touching you in some way he was comforted knowing you were safe and if he happened to not be touching you for any reason his eyes kept darting towards you, constantly checking on you. It was endearing really, now you finally knew how you felt about each other there was no way Jake was going to let anything happen to you.

You came to an abandoned farmhouse on the edge of the forest, the walls were cracked and the roof had seen better days. From the looks of the outside, you’d have thought it had been abandoned long before the world ended.

“I’m gonna check this place out, stay here,” Jake placed a kiss on the side of your head before disappearing into the house, his gun raised and the torch on his helmet on. You stood there in silence, waiting, watching. There was no noise at all, no wind in the trees, no animals, nothing. It was dead silent. You could occasionally hear Jake’s movements around the house and you had to stop yourself from following him, he was the closest thing you had to being safe right now and you needed him, maybe more than you’d care to admit. You began to toe the ground with your boot impatiently, you needed to distract yourself. You knew Jake would be annoyed if you followed him and although he had your best interests at heart you didn’t like being left out in a cold, dark, unfamiliar place to wait for him. Too deep in thought, you didn’t hear the boots approaching behind you, or the safety being released on their gun, you didn’t know anything until the weapon was pushed up against your back.

“Don’t move!”

You froze, heart racing in your chest, breath caught in your throat as you raised your hands, turning around slowly. The cool metal was pressing against your neck, causing you to shiver.

You raised your head slowly, moving to look at your attacker.

“Nat?”

“(Y/n)?”

Natasha lowered her weapon, flinging her arms around your neck. “Thank god you're ok.” You hurried your head in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Natasha had been your friend since day one in Miramar, she was your closest confidant. You opened your eyes slowly to see another figure behind her.

“Mickey?” You moved to hug the other aviator tightly.

“How are you guys even here? What happened?”

“We all got split up. I saw you disappear and then Jake went after you. The others had all scattered.” Nat sighed.

“Have you got the radio? Have you had any contact with any of the bases?” You reeled off questions to the aviators who were still looking a little bewildered.

“I’ve got the radio but I haven’t managed to get through to either of them. I only caught up with Mickey and Reuben yesterday, before…” Nat stopped herself looking at Mickey who was looking at the floor sadly, with several tears running down his cheeks.

“One of those things. It got him and…” Mickey let out a strangled sob and you grabbed hold of him quickly, pulling him into another hug.

“Oh, Mickey I’m so so sorry.” You held him as he cried into your shirt, you could feel Natasha wrapping her arms around your middle, forming a group hug. You sighed, sinking into your friend's embrace, you felt a little lighter knowing that at least two of your friends were ok, although your heart waged heavy for Reuben. You hadn’t known him well but you’d seen the banter and jokes he’d shared with the other aviators.

“What about Javy and Jake? Are they with you?” Natasha asked, pulling away slightly.

“I don’t know about Javy but Jake’s here with me. He’s just checking…” an almighty scream whipped through the silence.

“It’s one of them.” Natasha and Mickey said in unison as you all raised your guns, pointing them in the direction of the farmhouse.

“Jake’s in there. I have to warn him.” Before Natasha could stop you, you perched forward, tripping and stumbling towards the farmhouse. The house was pitch black, even darker than it had been outside, you turned on your helmet torch, glancing around in the gloom. “Jake,” you whispered frantically, searching the rooms one by one for any sign of him. The house had been ransacked, pictures and ornaments littering the carpeted floor, pictures hanging precariously off cracked walls, wallpaper flaking off. The kitchen was the worst, dirty dishes stacked high on all the work surfaces, and mouldy food on plates at the table. Your stomach churned and you had to swallow down the gag that was trying to escape. The kitchen door swung slowly back and forth, drawing you to it. “Jake?” You asked again, creeping forward. A hand grabbed your waist, spinning you around suddenly and placing a hand over your mouth to suppress the scream. Jake’s blue eyes stared back at you, startled. He raised a single finger to his lips telling you to stay quiet before removing his hand, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to rest his forehead against yours. From the corner of your eye you could see the kitchen door open, a clicking sound followed as the creature staggered forward, floundering on its long legs over the tiled floor, its head twitching from side to side as it listened. You held your breath as it moved closer, frightened it would hear your ragged breathing. “It’s ok,” Jake mouthed at you, giving you a small weak smile. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, feeling the tears wetting your cheeks as they fell. The creature moved clumsily around the kitchen table, knocking over the plates and screaming in protest as they smashed against the floor. Your whole body began shaking and Jake pulled you closer, you could feel his own tears dripping onto your neck as he held you. This was it, this was how you were going to die. You guessed there could be worse ways to die than wrapped in the arms of the man who loved you, the images of the bodies at Pompeii filled your mind. At that moment no one was thinking of the people they hated, only the people they loved and you loved Jake. The creature stood behind you, its long tentacles stretching out, feeling around into the darkness. It brushed against the back of your leg causing you to tense. It ran up your thigh to your back, wrapping its way around your hair and then over Jake’s head, before moving on to the cupboards above. It tapped its way along to the door at the other end of the kitchen, feeling over the brass handle and pulling it open slightly, moving lazily forward into the corridor. You could feel Jake relax, pulling away from you. His thumb brushed the stray tears away from your face as he pulled you towards him, pressing his lips firmly against yours. “I love you,” he repeated in a low whisper, stepping back against the side. Neither of you saw the plate blacked behind him. Neither of you saw it fall towards the floor but you both heard it smash, clattering loudly as it connected with the ceramic tiles with an ear-piercing crash, which was soon followed by tapping feet and a feral shriek.

“Run,” Jake said in a low voice. “Run.”

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

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#operation death wish #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin fanfic #jake seresin x female!reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years

Text

lost pieces pt. v

a/n: this piece is from a fic i really hope i will one day finish and get to publish because it truly had so much potential. i am also incredibly overwhelmed with the responses these are getting and 1000% do plan on responding to everyone once they are all posted.

piece synopsis: from a piece titled “my heart is wherever you are” (or the 5 times Rooster visited his parents graves alone and the one time he went with someone)

lost pieces masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: proposals, visiting a parents grave, unedited

iiiii. when he decided to propose

Sometimes, he likes to imagine what they would say to him.

He wonders if they’re proud of him, of his accomplishments, of how his life is turning out. He wonders what it would be like if they were here, if they could see him now.

It’s hard sometimes, he thinks. Hard without them being here. Mav makes it easier, so does Rebel, and his friends mean the world to him but he misses them. Misses his Mom, especially.

When he imagines his wedding, he always thought she’d be there. It makes his throat close up, to think about the fact that she won’t.

That’s if his girl says yes.

He sighs, rubbing his temple as he looks at their headstones, the words carefully carved into the expensive stone. The flowers he always brings sit at the corner of his Dad’s headstone. Rebel had to have been here recently, the wildflowers she brings his Mom sitting near her headstone.

“You visit my Mom?”

She glances at him from her phone, head propped upagainst his bare chest. he hadn’t meant to ask the question, but it had slipped out after visiting his parents the day before and seeing wildflowers next his Mom’s headstone. Carole had always told his girlfriend that she reminded her of wildflowers, ever so unique, beautiful in their own underrated right.

She shifts, phone dropping on to the bed next to her as she slides one of her hands up his chest to settle on his jaw, thumb lightly moving over one of his scars.

“Course I do.”

He swallows, throat tightening. “Why?” The words are a whisper. After so many years apart, he didn’t understand why she still cared, how she still cared, how she forgave him, how she let him love her-

“Because she was my Mom too, in her own right. I miss her. Like to talk to her sometimes, like we used to when you had football practice and she’d take me to go get a treat before we had to pick you up. Like to talk to your Dad, tell him about how Dad’s doing. Dad doesn’t visit enough.”

“After all these years, you still visit them?”

“Never stopped.”

Yeah, this is the girl he wants to marry.

He clears his throat slightly, as he readjusts, letting his knees prop up as he rests his forearms against them. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous, knows his mother had always hoped they’d end up together, and he knows that not just from the stories Mav’s told him.

Carole told him once, right after she’d gotten sick, that she saw the way he looked at his best friend, even if he didn’t know it yet, and to not wait until it was too late. She never brought it up again.

“Hey guys.” He whispers, feeling so far out his depth.

He wished he hadn’t come alone.

But that’d ruin the whole surprise, wouldn’t it?

“Uh, got some news that I wanted to share with you.” He blinks back the tears, letting his legs fall into a criss cross position as his hands come to pick at the grass. “You know that Rebel and I, that we’ve been dating. Almost three years now.” He realizes that he’s not going to be able to hold back the tears, wishing so desperately that they were here. “God, she’s- she’s my favorite person in the whole world. I love her. I love her so much. Didn’t realize you could love a person that much.” The first few tears slip out as he thinks about his girlfriend, the way she asked if he wanted her to come with him today, the way she just understood when he said no. He loved her, had since long before he was able to understand what it truly meant. “I’ve decided that I’m going to propose. She’s the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” More tears roll down his cheeks, but he makes no effort to wipe them away. “Going out to the hangar later this week to see Mav. Wanna ask his permission. Hope he’ll say yes, because God, I don’t want to do this with anybody else.” He takes a shaky breath, hands abandoning their work in the grass. “Do you think she’ll say yes? Hope she will.”

He desperately tries to think about what they’d say to him.

Course she’s going to say yes, do you see the way she looks at you? his Mom would tell him.

Girl’s crazy about you kid. No where else she’d rather be. his Dad would say

“Gonna ask Mav for help picking out a ring. He’ll know best.” He swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes. “Wish you were here. Want you to be here.” He takes a shaky breath, thinking about what it would’ve been like if they had been here. Thinks about his Mom going dress shopping with her, his Dad standing up there with him. “I know- know you’re still here with us in some way, but uh- wish you were here.”

+ the one time he went with someone

You hum at the feeling of fingertips brushing your bare arm ever so slowly. Up, down, up, down, always in a consistent pattern. You smiled sleepily, nuzzling closer into the bare chest next to you. You can hear him snort and you blink your eyes open up at him. The early morning light is dancing off his skin, lighting up his eyes. You swallow, caught off guard with how beautiful he looks. “Morning.” He whispers, voice still rough with sleep. He opens his mouth to say something else as your bedroom door is nudged open, Buddy bounding his way into the room. He jumps up onto the bed, nudging himself right between you and Rooster. You huff out a laugh, hand reaching up to scratch behind Buddy’s ears as he cozies up to you and Rooster. Rooster shifts to give the dog more room and his hand moves from your arm to your hair. You hum at the feeling, looking up at him as he smiles down at you. “Ran into your Dad this morning as I went to pee. Was headed out the door to go sailing with Penny.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, confirming. “Yeah, asked him if he’d be back to have dinner tonight and that we have something to tell him.” He pauses, looking down at you. “Asked me if I finally asked.”

You wriggle your fingers that are scratching Buddy’s head still, looking at the ring that adorns your left ring finger. It sparkles in the light and you have to steady yourself as you think about last night all over again.

“Will you marry me?”

Your breath caught in your throat as Bradley looked at you earnestly, eyes full of love. You want to speak, to say yes, to pull him close and kiss him and show him how much you love him, but nothing comes out.

“I- I have a ring, I swear. I was gonna do this better but I- there’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with. You’re the only girl I want. I know- Jesus I know marriage scares you but I swear to you, I will never, never leave. I want you, I want all of you, good bad ugly. I- I want you to know that-”

“Bradley, of course I’ll marry you.” You whisper. “Yes, yes a million times over.” Tears are pricking at your eyes and you squeeze his hands. He smiles at you, moving off the table, keeping you close to him. You let yourself be tugged as he brings you near the Bronco, opening the passenger door as he rifles through the glove box. He finds what he’s looking for and he shut the door, running to you as he gets down on one knee. You let out a watery chuckle as he beams up at you, carefully opening the ring box.

“Will you marry me?”

You nod as he slips the ring out of the box, grabbing your hand to place it on your left hand. You pull him to stand up, tugging at his shirt to pull him down for a kiss.

“You’re my fiancé now.”

“First morning as fiancés. Has a nice ring to it. Literally.” He snorts and you look back up at him. “Mav happy when you told him?”

“Said he didn’t want to hear an answer until we were both there to tell him. Think he just didn’t want to cry.” It’s your turn to snort as you picture your Dad biting back tears as a half-asleep Rooster tried to tell him that you guys were engaged.

“Well, what do you want to do on our first day as fiancés?” He hesitates and your hand pulls away from your dog, who huffs unhappily about the loss of attention, moving to your boyfriend- fiancés face. “Baby?”

“Actually, I was- I was thinking we could go visit my parents?” He says it in a way that makes you think he’s trying to pass it off as not caring too much about it, when you know he cares one hell of a lot.

“Course we can. Could even go to the grocery store and get food, have a little picnic with them. Plus, I’ve been wanting to bring your Mom new flowers- what?”

He’s looking at you with a look you can’t quite read, like he’s not sure how he got so lucky to have you.

“I love you.” He whispers. “So… so much.” You bite back the snarky I would hope so, you did ask me to marry you for another day, knowing this moment is too raw, too much vulnerability in his eyes, to play it off like that, to dismiss it.

He loved you.

And you loved him.

“I know. I love you too.”

He smiles softly at you, leaning over your dog to press a soft kiss to your temple. Buddy decides the two of you have had your moment and settles his full weight against Rooster’s chest, knocking him back on to the pillows. He laughs as his hands come up to scratch Buddy’s ears. “I know Bud, missed your Dad too much.”

��Can’t let me have all the love.” You joke, laughter filling your voice as a certain warmth spreads over your chest, watching the scene unfold. This is the way it should be.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fics #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #lost pieces #same mistakes #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fics

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