#rooster x fem!reader
Text
It's Always Been You
pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x fem!reader
summary: As Iceman's daughter, you and Rooster grew up together, but your friendship transforms when you are assigned to train for a dangerous mission that's never been accomplished before.
word count: 5.7k
warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (f!receiving), Top Gun: Maverick spoilers, mentions of illness
a/n: I watched Top Gun: Maverick twice (once for the plot, once for Miles Teller lol), so here's the Rooster fic that emerged from that
You push open the door to The Hard Deck, wiping away the droplets of sweat that are forming along the back of your neck in the dry California heat. Two weeks ago you got the call that you were being sent back to North Island to train for an urgent mission with an elite group of aviators, and you were excited for the opportunity to see pilots from your class at TOPGUN again.
The Hard Deck was the place you went for a cold beer and a hearty game of pool when you were still in training, and you knew that this was the best place to look if you wanted to find the rest of the team. You don't see them at first, but you immediately hear the arrogant timbre of Hangman's voice, carrying across the busy bar. Smiling to yourself, you stroll up to the pool table that Phoenix and the guys are crowded around, announcing your entrance with a "So who's winning?"
Fanboy and Payback grin at you from across the table as Hangman shoots you a cocky smirk, "Who do you think, darlin'?"
Rolling your eyes, you grab the pool cue from his hand and line up a shot, feeling his presence still behind you. Taking a breath in, you slide the cue back, whacking him in the gut, before shooting it forward and sinking your ball into the pocket.
You hear a groan behind you and you smirk, holding out the cue for him to take back, "Call me darling again, and I'll stick this somewhere you'll never find it."
A series of ooh's ring out around you, but you barely notice because another voice cuts through the chaos, "Come on now, Falcon. That's no way to make friends."
You spin around at the sound of your call sign, your jaw dropping as you take in the aviator-clad man grinning at you.
"No fucking way!" you gasp, launching yourself forward and into his arms for a barreling hug. "Rooster!"
He looks good, you think, when did that happen?
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw wraps his large arms around you, squeezing you tight before letting you go with a husky laugh. "Good to see you too, y/n."
"Well, if it isn't the other half of the nepotism duo," Hangman quips, souring your mood almost immediately. "You know, some people had to actually work their way here, instead of being handed everything."
Rooster doesn't react, but you don't have the self-control he does, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"We'll certainly see about that, won't we?" he smirks, cocking his head in a condescending tilt. "Admiral Simpson assembled us all here for a reason, and there's no way in hell he needs all of us for one mission."
You know he's right, but before you can think of a witty response, you hear a bell ringing, and cheering erupts from around the bar. You turn back to see Rooster grinning at Hangman, his finger pointing at the sign hanging above the bar, "You disrespect a lady and you buy a round for everyone."
Phoenix smacks Hangman on the back, laughing as she ushers him towards the cash register where Penny is waiting, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
You're still trying to shake off Hangman's comment when Bradley sidles up next to you, his hip checking yours as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Don't let him get to you. Iceman was a legend, but we both know you did this all on your own."
You would think that having an Admiral for a father would have made your life in the Navy much easier, but the moment you showed any interest in flying, your dad, Iceman, had stopped supporting your dreams. When the diagnosis came in, everything else fell to the back burner and the only thing you could concentrate on was how much you loved him and wanted him to fight. But sometimes, the hurt was still there. You knew he was just scared for you, especially after what he had seen with Rooster's dad, but his efforts to keep you away from the career he had successfully built had strained your relationship.
It was Bradley who pulled you two back together. After his dad died, he became a staple at the Kazansky household, always welcome for holidays and pretty much every other day too. He managed to toe the line between pushing you to become the best pilot you could be, and helping you regain your relationship with your father. He was your best friend growing up, and even though you split off in the naval academy, he was still a pillar in your life that was never going anywhere.
~~~
With Hangman buying, the night passes quickly, and the next morning you are sitting with the rest of the team, waiting on your instructor to show up. You tap your foot on the floor of the hangar, impatience building up inside of you, until the sound of footsteps alerts you.
Turning around, you spot the man walking towards you and your eyes widen with surprise and then concern. You sneak a glance at Rooster, trying to gauge his reaction to seeing Maverick for the first time in years, but the only response you get is the tightening of his jaw. The lesson starts off well, but when Mav begins the air drills, the tension between him and Rooster comes to a head.
He starts you off first, giving you a few minutes to get settled in the air, before he's right on your tail. You try to shake him, but your wingman is too far back and you don't have eyes behind you, so it only takes him a minute to "shoot you down". Payback and Fanboy's excellent idea to get some skin in the game has the three of you on your hands with Hondo, sweat dripping from your face onto the tarmac as the California sun beats down on you.
After what feels like an hour, you are hobbling back into the control room, listening to the radio as Rooster takes off. He starts off strong, managing to evade Maverick's maneuvers, but you don't miss the quiet snipes that shoot back and forth across the comms as they zoom through the air. You zone out for a moment, but you must've missed something important, because the next thing you know, Mav and Rooster are engaged in a dangerous maneuver that has been spinning towards the ground.
"They passed the hard deck," Phoenix gasps while everyone stares intently at the radio, as if hoping that this will somehow convince them to pull up their control sticks. You feel like you're under 10 Gs of force with how heavy your body feels as Bradley spins down to the earth, neither of them giving up even an inch of their pride.
It feels like a million years before he finally gives in, the nose of his jet a mere kilometer from the ground as he pulls out of the downward spiral. The weight on your chest finally lifts when he lands back on the base, and you don't wait for him as you head back to your cabin. No doubt Admiral Simpson will be chewing him out for his idiotic stunt today.
~~~
You're heading out to grab dinner that night when you run into Bradley, who is just getting back from the hangar. You're so angry that you can barely look at him, but he stops in front of you, forcing you to confront him.
"I get that you're mad at Mav," you grit out, "but why the hell would you put yourself in danger just to prove whatever the hell you were trying to prove to him!"
He's all you have, your thoughts spiral against your will, doesn't he know that it would kill you to lose him?
His brows furrow with frustration as he straightens his back in an unconscious effort to size you up. "Don't patronize me. You wouldn't understand, y/n."
You scoff. "The hell I wouldn't. We grew up together Bradshaw, I know you inside and out."
"Yeah, well your dad isn't fucking dead."
You stop in your tracks, his words a slap in the face. Fluorescent hospital lights flash across your mind as you are unwittingly brought back to the early days of your dad's cancer diagnosis.
Rooster's expression falls immediately and you see pain flash across his eyes as he takes a step forward and says, "God, y/n, I'm so sorry, you know I didn't mean that. Iceman was like a father to me. What he's going through now is killing me too."
He pulls you into a hug and after a moment, you reciprocate, your arms winding around his waist. You take a deep breath, breathing in his familiar musky scent that reminds you of home.
You both stay in the embrace for a minute before he whispers, "You were right. What I did up there today was stupid. I won't do it again."
You can hear the sincerity in his voice as he says it, and you believe him. Bradley Bradshaw has never lied to you, even when it hurts. But you would take his steadfast honesty over all else any day.
~~~
You wake up the next day to a note on your door that says to 'dress light and head to the beach behind The Hard Deck'. You pull on a sports bra under a tee shirt and denim shorts, before meeting up with the rest of the team outside of the base. You all head over to the beach and find Captain Mitchell grinning, two footballs in his hands.
"Welcome to dogfight football!" he yells over the lull of the waves crashing against the shore. "Form two teams and line up."
Hearing his directions, you and Rooster look over at each other, an implicit agreement in your eyes. You both line up on one side with a few of the guys, as Hangman and Coyote grab the rest and form a line in front of you. Rooster and Hangman take the balls, crouching down into position as they get ready to start the game. Mav whistles, signaling the beginning of game play, and suddenly the makeshift field becomes a flurry of motion.
At first, you lose track of where your team is compared to the other guys, but as the game progresses you slowly realize Maverick's genius. This game is perfect for honing your precision and focus, which will be absolutely vital when a select few of you are bombing the uranium enrichment plant in a couple of weeks.
Rooster catches the ball as Fanboy hikes it to him, falling back to get a better view of the beach and find open targets. He sees you slanting out to the side, but Coyote keeps getting in the way, so he turns his attention over to Payback, who sprints across the shoreline, losing his defender in the process. Bradley slings the ball across the sand, but just as it's about to reach Payback, someone from the other team swats it down.
Clapping his hands to shake off the initial defeat, he swings his finger in the air to round up the team for another shot. He is scanning the beach, trying to locate everyone on his side, when his eyes land on you, all the way across the sand. He opens his mouth to call out to you, but then your hand grips the hem of your shirt and every thought flies out of his mind.
You lift the edge of your shirt, pulling it over your head, and he knows he should probably be looking away, but he can't take his eyes off of you. He's barely paying attention as Phoenix presses the ball back into his hands, but then he regains his focus when you start sprinting to the opposite side. You swing around the side and dodge Hangman's arm as you yell, "Rooster, over here."
Blinking a few times to get re-oriented, Bradley zings the ball over to you, relishing in the satisfying thud as it lands in your waiting hands. Cheers break out all around him, and he grins at your success, but his mind is still stuck on the smooth expanse of your tanned skin that glinted at him under the harsh sunlight.
The game continues for a while, and eventually you see a ball flying way over your head, zooming into what looks like no man's land. You start running but then it thunks into Bob's hands. Everyone pauses for a moment of shock, before you all erupt into cheers that end up in Bob being lifted into the air like he just shot the winning goal in the World Cup.
You pat him on the back, laughing at the proud look on Bob's face. As if pulled by a magnet, your eyes travel down the pile until they land on Rooster's. His eyes meet yours instantly, a bright grin plastered on his face. You're already sweating buckets under the hot sun, but one look from Bradley has a warmth spreading across your chest that you haven't felt since you were young.
This was Bradley Bradshaw, the valiant knight who graced all your childhood dreams. He always is and always has been the face you search for in a crowd. He's never been fearless, but he's your rock. Whenever you look at him, you feel like the world is at your fingertips.
Stepping back as the boys jostle him around, you can't help the grin that crosses your face. For the first time since you started here at TOPGUN, you actually feel like you're part of a team. A family.
~~~
Everyone heads back to the cabins covered in sweat and sand, and the showers are filled up before you can even grab your clothes. As you're waiting for one of the stalls to open, you get a call from Mom that sends a jolt of panic down your spine.
"Mom?" you answer, trying to keep the apprehension from your voice. "What's going on?"
"Oh, honey, it's nothing sudden," she says kindly, clearly sensing your worry from miles away. She always knew what you were thinking, even when you tried your best to hide it. "It's just what we've seen coming for a while now, sweetheart."
You can hear the wetness in her voice and you know she's been crying. The image sends a dagger through your stomach. "It's getting close to the end. You should come see Dad."
Mom hid a lot of things from you growing up - always to protect you - but the one thing she never could was your dad's illness. The signs of his weakening state were ever-present and although he tried to ignore them, you never could.
"I'll come today," you say, your voice hoarse from the tears building in your throat. "See you soon, Mom."
The call ends and you open your phone again, the need to text him almost a gut instinct.
You going to see dad. come with?
His response is immediate.
Bradley🐓 always. i'll meet you outside in 20
You take the fastest shower of your life and head out front to see Bradley already outside on his motorcycle, helmet in hand. He must see the look in your eyes because he doesn't say anything as you hop on behind him and wind your arms around his waist. Your fingers dig into the hard ridges of his stomach as he zooms down the quiet streets of Fightertown. The cool breeze brushing past your face helps clear your head as you pass by the houses neighboring the glistening water.
Bradley takes the turns carefully, but you were never much of a biker, and your arms stay tightly wound around his hard abdomen. You can feel the muscles in his back flexing against your chest, and not for the first time, you are struck by how much of a man he has become. You grew up with him, so you never really noticed how he was changing, but all of a sudden, he has become this gorgeous, hardworking man who's a far cry from the young boy who used to pull your pigtails on the playground.
It's not long before you arrive at your childhood home, Rooster's bike pulling to a stop by the front lawn. You haven't even made it fully up the porch when the door swings open, your mom's melancholy expression greeting you from the doorway.
When you two make it inside, she pulls you both into big hugs, remarking on how glad your dad will be to see you both again. The walk to Dad's study feels like a marathon, and by the time you get the door open, you can barely breathe. But then you see him, and the weight on your chest disappears.
He looks worn down and tired, but he's here. He's alive, and he's okay, and even though it's taking everything in him to fight this illness, he's doing it. You fight back tears as he smiles at you from his desk, bundled up in a sweater even though the sun is shining brightly through the bay windows.
"Hi, Dad," you smile, kissing his forehead and pulling out a chair, before Bradley shakes his hand and takes a seat next to you. "You look great."
"You really do, Admiral," Bradley nods, meeting your eye for a moment in a quick show of moral support. Just the one look from him settles you, and you turn back to your father, excited to fill him in on your mission.
You and Rooster tell him about the grueling training you've undergone this past week and he listens intently, smiling brightly as you talk about Maverick and how he pushes every boundary and limit he can find.
After about an hour, the sun starts to set and you know you have to get back to the base before it gets dark.
"It was great to see you again, Iceman," Bradley says, giving your dad a quick hug that you can tell means a lot to the both of them.
When you guys start to leave, your dad beckons for you to stay back a moment. Bradley murmurs that he'll be waiting for you outside, and pulls the door closed behind him.
You take a seat again, turning to face your father, who has a look on his face that you don't recognize. He opens his mouth to speak, and you try to stop him, knowing that it just hurts him, but he waves away your concern, pressing your hand into both of his.
"Y/n, you know I didn't want you following in my footsteps in the Navy after I saw how it affected my closest friends," he whispers, his voice raspy with disuse. This isn't what you wanted to talk about with him today, but since he brought it up, you can't help the nerves that bubble up inside of you before he continues speaking. " But you have become such a strong, beautiful, independent woman, and I am so grateful that I got to see it."
You had long since come to terms with the notion that your father wasn't going to be in support of your life choices, but to hear him finally express what you've been trying to show him for years makes up for everything. Your eyes well up with tears and you exhale slowly, "I love you, Dad."
He stands up, and you rise with him, pulling him into a big hug that makes you feel like a kid again. You're about to pull away, when you hear his gentle rasp by your ear. "He loves you, too. I can see it."
~~~
You are still thinking about your father's words when you walk out front and see Bradley on his bike, waiting for you with a bittersweet smile on his face. He hands you your helmet and helps you onto the motorcycle, before turning back to look at you again.
"He's fighting so hard to stay here for you and your mom," he says, his voice bringing a welcome warmth to the pit that is slowly forming in your chest with each strained breath your father takes. "I'm so lucky that I got to know him as well as I did."
Leaning forward, you pull Bradley into a hug that he reciprocates immediately. Your body is small and warm against his, and he presses his face into your neck, enjoying the subtle scent of vanilla and hazelnut that wafts up from your skin. He lost both of his parents before he even got into the naval academy, but when he was with you, he never felt like he was missing his family. Over the years, you had become the family he needed, and with his arms around you, he knows he could stay like this forever and it wouldn't be long enough.
~~~
When the Pentagon receives new intel that the shipment to the uranium enrichment facility is coming early, the mission gets moved up, increasing the already monumental odds that are going against your team's ability to finish this and come home.
The intensity of your training is amped up and every night you are so exhausted that you sleep like a log. The week passes by too quickly, and before you know it, its the day before the mission. Maverick assembles all of you back into the training facility and takes a few moments before finally opening his mouth.
"You all have worked incredibly hard, and the choices I had to make when selecting the pilots for this mission were difficult ones."
You've heard this kind of speech what feels like a thousand times, and you find yourself tuning him out as you try to calm your nerves. After a minute, you pull yourself back into the present and realize that he's naming the teams.
"Dagger 1," Mav announces, "Payback and Fanboy."
You nod, agreeing with that pick completely. Fanboy was an amazing WSO and he complemented Payback well.
"Dagger 2," Mav continues, "Phoenix and Bob."
Another great pick. You shoot them a small congratulatory smile, before turning your attention back to the Captain. This is it. Who's it gonna be?
"And my wingman will be...Rooster."
The air feels like its being sucked out of the room. A spike of fear jolts through you as his name ping-pongs inside of your skull, unable to fully sink in. This mission would take not one, but two miracles, and only then was there even going to be a consideration of trying to get home in one piece.
You barely hear Maverick explain that the rest of you are on standby, before everyone is standing up and filtering out of the room. You feel like you're sleepwalking, your feet moving of their own accord as they take you back to the cabins to turn in for the night.
You take your time getting ready for bed, but even as you lay down, the exhaustion so strong you can feel it in your bones, sleep doesn't come. You try everything from counting sheep to meditation, but something nags at the back of your mind, keeping you from falling asleep.
It's not just something. It's Rooster.
Groaning with exasperation, you throw off the covers and pace around your room, trying to calm your racing mind. You try to turn your thoughts away from the mission tomorrow, but after a few minutes of walking back and forth across the small room, you know you have to get out of here.
Desperate for fresh air, you push open the door and step into the hallway. Just as you are considering breaking curfew, another door opens down the hall and Rooster's head peeks out from behind the doorframe.
He's shirtless, only clad in a pair of cotton sweats, and you almost forget to feel ashamed as you ogle his beautiful body. He looks back at you, amusement filling his eyes, before its quickly replaced with something that fills you with the urge to wrap your arms around him and squeeze until you are bonded as one.
Deciding against the fresh air, you cock your head towards your door and leave it open as you walk back into your room.
The door shuts behind you and you sit on your bed, legs crossed under you, as Bradley plops down next to you, his head hitting your pillow as he makes himself comfortable. You are both silent for a while before he whispers, barely audible, "I'm scared."
You turn to look at him, and he sees the understanding in your eyes. In that moment, he immediately knows that you are his person; the person he always wants with him when he gets bad news or good news or whatever else life throws at him. He knows you like he knows the inside of an F/A 18F Super Hornet, and that will never change. Not if he can help it.
"I'm ready," he continues, finding his voice again, "but I'm still scared of what could happen out there. I trust Mav, I do. I mean, I didn't always, but I think I finally see what my dad saw in him, you know. But..."
"It's okay to be scared," you whisper, your voice low as if you're afraid that being any louder will break this spell. "But you're the best aviator I know and if anyone can complete this mission, it's you, Rooster."
He sits up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours and you become acutely aware of how little clothing separates the two of you. The thin material of your shirt is light against your skin and you can barely breathe as Bradley lifts his hand, threading his fingers in your hair as he cups the side of your face with so much care you think you might melt right there in front of him.
Neither of you says anything as his thumb lazily runs down your jaw, stopping right at your lips. "Bradley." your voice is a soft sigh that makes him stiffen.
His hand doesn't move as he looks at you intensely, his eyes seeing you in a way that no one else does. "I can go. Just say the word and-"
"Don't," you whisper, scooting forward slightly on the bed as confidence fills you again. "Don't go."
You would be lying if you said you weren't afraid of the consequences of what was happening between the two of you. Of how this could affect your long-held friendship and your ability to function properly as a team. But in that moment, all you can think about is how his lips would feel against yours.
You lean into him, your palms flat on the mattress beneath you as you press your mouth to his. The moment your lips meet, sparks crackle behind your eyelids, and you let out a small whimper that has his fingers tightening in your hair. His mouth is warm against yours and the prickle of his mustache against your nose feeds the ache between your legs at the thought of it bristling somewhere else.
Bradley's hands move from your hair to your waist as he lowers you down onto the bed, his body hovering over you. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down to the hem of your shirt, toying with the edge in an implicit question that you answer with a frantic nod. He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground, before peppering kisses down your jaw and across your neck. The wet heat of his tongue against your skin has you gasping beneath him and you dig your fingers into the ridges of his back, your eyelids fluttering closed with pleasure.
You grip his shoulders as he returns to your mouth, sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips in a teasing pattern that has you squeezing your legs together to get some relief.
"Bradley," you gasp, feeling him pull back slightly, "stop teasing."
He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around your back before lifting you up and forward until you're straddling him. "Yes, ma'am."
With one deft movement, he unhooks your bra and sends it falling to the floor. You don't have time to be impressed, because the next thing you know, his mouth is on your breast, his lips closing around your nipple with awe-inspiring precision. The warm wetness of his mouth on your sensitive skin snaps something inside of you and suddenly your hips start rocking against his, desperate for some sort of release. Bradley switches to your other breast, and when his teeth brush against you, a sound you don't recognize rips from your throat.
Your hips grind against his faster, the rough material of his sweats creating a delicious friction that has you gasping. He's rock hard against your core, and although there are multiple layers of fabric between the two of you, the feeling of his arousal under you sends waves of pleasure rolling up your spine.
"Y/n, darlin', you gotta stop doing that," Bradley groans, lifting his face from your chest. "I'm not finishing until I'm inside of you."
His words leave you breathless, and you nod frantically, making him laugh brightly. He tugs off his sweats as he moves down your body, kissing down your abdomen until he's at the waistband of your sleep shorts. Bradley takes his time pulling them down your legs, delighting in the small noises of impatience you make from above him.
"Bradley, hurry up," you complain, the ache between your thighs getting worse with each second.
He just flashes you that infuriatingly perfect smirk. "Patience, baby. We have all the time in the world. I'm savoring you tonight."
You can't ignore the jolt of heat his words send straight to your core, but that doesn't make you any less eager for him. When he yanks your shorts and panties off, you're finally bare in front of him, and the sight of you here, with him, has his mind dizzy with desire.
He opens his mouth to make some witty quip like he always does when he's with you, but instead what comes out is, "You're so fucking beautiful."
You've always been beautiful and strong and stubborn, and if he's being honest, he's always loved you. He just didn't realize it.
He wants to be inside of you more than anything, but with your dripping heat right in front of him, he would be remiss to not have a taste. His tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your core, and you gasp loudly, feeling the ache start to dissipate with each ministration.
The sounds that escape your mouth encourage his movements and he presses your stomach down to the mattress as you try to arch off the bed. Your body is overheating and you can't seem to get enough as his mustache scrapes infuriatingly against your thighs. When his lips close around your clit, you're already so close that you come barreling to your release, crying out something that sounds like his name as he works you through your orgasm.
His lips find yours again and your fingers dig roughly into the hard ridges of his muscles as he doesn't wait before entering you slowly, the stinging stretch quickly turning to hot pleasure. You moan into his mouth as he pulls out fully before sinking back into you, his hard length reaching the deepest parts of you.
Bradley's body shakes with a pleasure that overwhelms him as your slick heat tightens around him like a vice grip. His thrusts get faster and faster and your head falls back, arching off the pillow as his name rolls off your lips.
"Y/n, fuck," he grits out as you contract around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to finishing.
Your body starts to shudder, signaling your impending release, and Bradley quickens his thrusts to get you there first. His hand reaches down between the two of you, and he rubs fast circles on your clit that send you flying over the edge in seconds.
You cry out with the force of your release, and the tightening of your pussy around his cock has him following you soon after.
~~~
The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and a note on your nightstand that reads 'you're it for me. I'll be back in no time.'
You smile to yourself, but then your expression falls when you remember where he's gone. You quickly change into your gear and head up to the base to join Hangman and the rest of the reserve team.
Admiral Simpson has you all waiting by the tarmac, supplied with a radio that allows you to listen in to the mission. The flight over to the canyon is largely uneventful, but when the aviators reach the inverted dive, your heart seizes in your chest. They manage to achieve the first miracle, and then the next, and with each piece of good news, the tightness around your heart loosens up, but then you hear Rooster's frantic voice and your lungs refuse to work again.
When Maverick's plane gets hit by the missile, the whole base falls silent, except for the anguished sounds of Bradley's voice over the radio. When Rooster's comms go silent too, Hangman is sent out to do an assist and you can feel your heart in your throat, beating wildly as your lungs try to force air in and out.
You and the rest of the reserve team wait for what feels like a year, but then you see an old F-14 Tomcat enter the skies above you and all the tension finally leaves your body. When Rooster and Mav land, you let everyone else rush forward to cheer for them, seeing as how your feet can barely move because of how relieved you are.
But then Bradley steps out of the plane and finds you in the crowd. You smile at him, tears glazing your eyes as he saunters over to you and stops in front of you. "Told you I'd be back."
You let out a watery laugh before he lifts you into a big hug, your feet flying off the ground as he pulls you tightly against him. It feels like no time at all before he puts you down, and you're about to put a professional distance between your bodies when he plants a big kiss on your mouth.
You're staring at him, mouth agape, when you hear Hangman's voice behind you, "I fucking knew it!"
#rooster smut#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#rooster x reader#rooster x fem!reader#rooster#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x female!reader#top gun#top gun smut#top gun maverick#iceman#maverick#hangman#fanfic#rooster imagine
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Y/N: In my defense I was left unsupervised.
Maverick: Wasn't Rooster with you?
Rooster: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.
#incorrect top gun quotes#incorrect quotes#top gun maverick x reader#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x fem!reader#pete maverick mitchell#pete mitchell#top gun
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bail Out - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley x Fem!Reader (Pilot - Call Sign: Raven)
This was based off of an ask I received:
untitled87858 asked: Hi! Can you write a rooster imagine where the reader is also a pilot and she gets hurt during a mission?
See Request --> Here
Written with the help from my BFF @fanficgirl429 !
Thanks for all the love xoxo
-------------------------------------------------------
The engine to my F-18 purred as I moved up alongside my wingman, Rooster. He shot me a thumbs up as our teacher, Maverick, pulled up to the right of me. I nodded in his direction.
“Great job! The two of you work well together. Have you flown together before?” Maverick asked through the mic.
“Many times.”
“Unfortunately,” Rooster added and I gave him the finger.
Maverick laughed, “It’s always nice flying with someone you know. Again, great job! Let’s head back to base.“
Maverick took off leaving smoke in his wake. I turned to look at Rooster in the plane beside me.
“Nice flying, wingman.”
He quickly shook his head, “No, you’re my wingman.”
“In your dreams, Rooster,” I said, peeling off and flying in the direction Maverick had just gone.
I checked my radar on instinct, and adjusted my speed to coasting. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. If I had it my way, I’d never stop doing this.
Suddenly I heard a popping sound, and my body jerked forward. A red light started flashing and an ear piercing noise filled the cockpit.
“Shit.”
“Ugh, Raven, you lost an engine!” Rooster yelled over the intercom.
My wrist was throbbing with pain after banging it against the canopy, “Yeah, I know. Trying to restart.”
”Talk to me, Raven!”
I ignored Maverick as I continued working on the problem, flipping switches and pressing buttons to try and get the left engine restarted.
At that moment the second engine went off, causing my plane to go spiraling downward.
“Fuck!” I heard Rooster yell.
“Raven, Eject!“
I ignored Maverick once again. I knew I’d get reprimanded later if I got out of this.
“Raven!” Rooster cried.
I was trained for a situation like this to happen, I wasn’t ready to give up. My computer indicated the engines were still functioning, just not running.
Rooster screamed in my headset again, “Eject, Raven! Why aren’t you listening?!”
“Not yet!”
“Y/N!”
3,000 feet.
“I got this!”
The beeping sound continued as I plummeted toward the ground.
2,000 feet.
“Eject, Y/N!”
I flipped the switch for the left engine and I heard a noise. It was trying to start. I hit it again, and unexpectedly the left engine came roaring back to life.
“Raven, Report.”
I pulled back on the throttle and the jet started ascending.
4,000 feet, 5,000 feet, 6,000.
I leveled out, the runway straight ahead, “I’m good! I’m good,” my voice a tad more shaky than I had intended, “Left engine is back on, landing in less than 90 seconds.”
Once the landing gear came out with no issue, I knew the rest would be a piece of cake.
The jet landed gently onto the runway and I drove it into the correct spot, turning it off and opening the canopy.
“Are you okay?” one of my crew asked, pulling the ladder down for me to exit the cockpit.
I nodded and stepped down, happy for a moment to be touching the ground.
“Y/N!” Rooster yelled, stepping down from his ladder across from me. “What the hell was that?! Why the fuck were you not listening to me?”
He walked quickly towards me, pulling his helmet from his head. I had seen him angry before but never like this.
“I’m fine. Calm down,” I answered, reaching up to unhook my helmet. My wrist throbbed as I squeezed the hook together, trying to get it apart but failing. I pulled my hand down, absentmindedly rubbing my hurt wrist.
“You want me to be calm! How can I be calm after you almost killed yourself?!”
“Bradley, please stop yelling at me! I’m fine, I promise.”
“Why didn’t you bail?”
I rolled my eyes. “I had everything under control!”
It was at that moment that Rooster noticed my wrist. He took a breath and took a step towards me.
“Here. Let me help,” he said, reaching out and unhooking my helmet. He gently pulled it off my head and held onto it. “You need to get that looked at- it could be broken. What were you thinking? What you did was reckless!”
“It’s not broken, and for the last time I’m fine!” I said, grabbing my helmet out of his hand and walking away from him.
“Y/N, where are you going?!”
“Somewhere where I won’t get screamed at!”
I heard Bradley walking behind and began to move quicker. I was not in the mood to hear him yelling at me.
“I like you Y/N!”
I stopped in my tracks, my back to him.
“I’m not trying to be mean, I just…I don’t want to see you get hurt. I wouldn’t get the chance to ask you out if you did something stupid, which is clearly inevitable.”
I slowly turned on my heels to face him.
“You like me?” I asked, pointing my finger at myself.
Bradley ran his fingers through his hair, a sign that he was nervous. “Yea…I’ve been wanting to ask you out for months, but was too scared you’d turn me down, so I put it off.”
“Bradley, you fly F-18s for a living and you’re too scared to ask me out?” I laughed.
He rolled his eyes at my comment. “Okay, let’s not dwell on that part.”
“Yes,” I said.
He looked down at me, a curious expression on his face, “Yes, to what?”
I smiled, “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”
#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster x fem!reader#rooster fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#maverick#pete maverick mitchell#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick fanfiction#miles teller#tom cruise
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing.
Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing.
W/C: 2k
Characters: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Mentions/Small Parts: Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Harvard.
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Notes: I saw this post on Instagram, and it immediately made me think of Rooster. Songs: Is This Love by White Snake, Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli.
A/N: the wonderful and brilliant @writercole helped with ideas, summary, and title and helped make the muses comply.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch
Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms
Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
It’s been a week. It’s not even worth listing all the things that went wrong. The icing on the cake (presumably made with salt and not sugar - cause it's that kind of week) was your date canceled on you as you took a seat at a booth in the diner.
You sigh as the waitress comes to take your order, accepting that you’ve been stood up and decide you may as well eat since you’re already there.
“I’ll take a cheeseburger, side salad, no tomato, extra dressing, please.”
The elderly waitress smiles. It’s comforting and sweet. Her name tag says Pattie, and you imagine her grandkids get overly excited whenever Granny Pat visits. “You want the fries with that?”
You ponder for half a second before declining, “No thanks.”
“You sure, hun? They’re included in the price.”
You had dirty Cajun fries from the food cart outside the office at lunch. You know the diner’s fries won’t taste as good, besides you want to leave room for dessert, so you politely decline again.
“I’ll take them, Pattie!”
You twist in the booth to look over your shoulder and find the source. A handsome guy sitting at the bar, wearing a light yellow floral print shirt, smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You’d clocked him when you’d entered. You’d caught his eye too, and he’d given you a broad smile. His mustache was a flashback to a decade or two ago, but he wore it well. He carried it with a sense of pride and confidence. It looked good on him. Anyone else, you’d have thought it was creepy.
“Hush now, boy,” Pattie scolds, but she’s smiling when she turns back to face you.
You chuckle, nodding toward him, “He’ll take the fries.”
Pattie takes your menu and disappears to the kitchen. You look at Mr. Mustache, who tips his beer bottle to you before bringing it to his lips.
You grab your phone and message the “No Scrubs” group.
You: Stood up again. Where you guys at?
Cole: At that navy bar I was telling you about. Come meet us.
You: I’ve just ordered dinner. Will see how I feel after.
You scroll social media while you wait. Pattie comes by a few times, brings cutlery and sauces, and refreshes your drink.
You hear the bell ring to signal an order’s ready, and your mouth waters when you see Pattie heading toward you. The burger looks delicious. The brioche bun glistens under the lights as the cheese melts over the edge onto the plate. It's so tall there’s a wooden skewer through the top to keep it in place, and the fries are fat and look perfectly crispy.
Pattie sets the plate down, “Enjoy, sweetheart,” and you swallow before drool slips out.
Just as you pull the skewer out of the burger, you hear, “Those are mine, remember.”
You laugh, twisting to look at him again. He’s got a cheerful smirk, but his brow is raised as if challenging you. “Why don’t you join me?” you offer.
He grabs his beer and twists off his stool. The smile remains while he saunters over, and you can’t take your eyes off him, admiring the sway of his hips. He’s confident in an almost bashful way. The open floral shirt shows a white shirt beneath it, and the contrast against his tanned skin looks as edible as your burger.
“Tell me,” he says, grabbing a fry and biting off the end. “What kind of psychopath doesn’t have fries with their burger?”
You shrug, “The same kind that offers to take a stranger's fries.”
“Touché,” he chuckles.
You laugh, explaining, “I had fries at lunch and want dessert.”
He nods as if now understanding your logic. “Ah, she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“I’ve heard that the chocolate malt here is the best in the state. I can’t pass that up,” you grin.
“Well, that is true,” he shrugs, popping another fry into his mouth. “Make or break question here, whipped cream on top of the shake?”
“I fear this will affect our budding friendship,” you tease, “but ab-so-lutely whipped cream on top of the shake. Among other places,” you wink.
His boldness flounders for half a second, recognizing he’s met his match, but he recovers quickly. Wetting his lips and giving a cheeky smile. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“I don’t see a ring, and you’re here alone. Are you single?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes, I’m definitely flirting with you.”
His smile widens and remains while the conversation flows and the two of you eat. Flirtations and laughter pass back and forth effortlessly.
Your phone chimes with another message, and you see the ‘No Scrubs’ group chat has two unread messages. You don’t want to be rude and pick it up to reply, but you know if you don’t, they’ll likely call to make sure you’re okay.
“Somewhere else you need to be?” he asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice that he attempts to hide behind a sip of beer.
“No, just some friends trying to get me to go meet them at some Navy bar.” You roll your eyes and type a quick ‘maybe’ before locking your phone, setting it face down on the table.
“Navy bar? The Hard Deck?” he questions, tilting his head to the side.
“I think that’s what Cole said. Do you know it?”
“That’s actually where I’m headed after. I could give you a ride. If you need one, that is.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”
“Rooster?” you laugh. “Please tell me there’s a good story there.”
“There might be. I guess that depends on if you want to hear it.”
“How about you tell me on the way to the bar?”
The open window lifts your hair slightly, and every time Rooster gets a hit of your perfume, he inhales deeply, savoring it.
He sticks to the speed limit, if not a little below it. He’s not quite ready to say goodbye to you. He’s never had such an instant, effortless connection with someone, and he wants to make it last as long as possible.
You’d laughed at the story about his name. You’d have never guessed that it was a nickname his uncle gave him when he was a kid. The radio is playing at a low volume, but as soon as the opening bars of Is This Love by White Snake start, you lean over and crank the volume as loud as it will go, singing along as if he isn’t there.
“Is this love that I'm feeling?” you sing, holding a pretend microphone. “Is this the love that I've been searching for? Is this love, or am I dreaming? This must be love. 'Cause, it's really got a hold on me. A hold on me.”
You can’t hold a tune, and your voice cracks a few times, but still, you belt it out with vigor, and Rooster thinks he may be falling in love. Did Pattie put something in those fries?
“Sorry,” you say, settling back into your seat, “that’s one of my favorites.”
It’s one of my favorites now too. But he doesn’t say it. Instead, he laughs, “I never would’ve guessed.”
“Are you not a car karaoke kinda guy?” you ask. “You seem like you like to sing along.”
“I’ve been known to hold a few car concerts,” he admits, “but I didn’t want to interrupt your flow.”
“Can you sing as good as me?”
He looks at you and sees the jesting expression. You know you can’t sing, and you don’t care one little bit.
“I’d love to serenade you,” he says, “but unfortunately, we’re here.”
“Some other time?” you ask, and he swears you sound hopeful.
Rooster opens the Hard Deck door, and as soon as he hears the hustle and bustle from inside, he wishes he’d suggested you stay at the diner. Holding the door open, he gestures for you to enter first, and you smile a thanks as you pass by.
You stop a few feet inside, scanning the room as he stands beside you. This is the one time he hopes Hangman is being himself and has, by some miracle, coaxed your friends over to the group so Rooster has an excuse to keep talking to you.
“Those are my friends over there,” you say, dashing all his hopes as you point to the pool tables on the opposite side of the room.
“I’m over there,” Rooster says, pointing to where the Dagger squad is assembled.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for the fries.”
“Anytime.”
“Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You too.”
There’s a pause, neither of you knowing what to do. You rise to the tips of your toes, and he dips to let you place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
His cheeks quickly flush, hearing the jeers, shouts, and wolf whistles, but you drop back down with a laugh.
“Sorry,” he says. “They’re a bunch of idiots.”
He scolds himself for being an idiot as you walk away. He should invite you over or ask for your number, but he’s suddenly tongue-tied. He stares at you, frozen to the spot, long enough to see your friends turn to look at him as you settle into your seat.
Throughout the night, flirtatious glances are passed back and forth, and smiles exchanged when they linger. Of course, it’s Hangman who notices the consequence of Rooster’s error.
“Looks like you lose again, Rooster,” the blond pilot remarks, a way too smug grin showing off his perfectly white teeth. “Too snug on that perch, and Harvard is gonna take your lady right out from under your beak.”
Rooster doesn’t care if it proves Hangman’s point. He looks directly at you. Harvard is whispering in your ear. You're smiling, but Rooster thinks it's more of a polite, courteous smile than genuine interest.
But it’s the kick he needs to take action. He looks to Phoenix, Bob, and Mickey, almost pleading, “I need your help.”
Phoenix nods once, Bob smiles, and Mickey asks, “What?”
“He wants to do the Goose move,” Phoenix explains without Bradley needing to tell her any more.
“What’s the Goose move?”
“It’s the move his Dad did to get his Mom,” Bob says.
“I don’t know what that is,” Mickey shrugs.
“Technically, we've been doing it for years,” Rooster says, “it’s just that this time, it involves my future wife.”
“So, no pressure,” Bob gulps.
“Relax. I’ve got a plan,” Phoenix winks, gesturing for the three guys to come closer.
Harvard doesn’t seem all that smart, and you wonder if it's an ironic nickname or callsign, as Rooster had explained. Harvard certainly doesn’t understand body language. You’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to put some distance between you three times. The third time he slides his arm around your shoulders.
Before you can shrug, his arm slips off, and suddenly, a pretty brunette woman is in his place. “Hi,” she says brightly, her back to a flustered-looking Harvard. “I’m Phoenix, and this is Fanboy. We’re friends with Rooster.”
Butterflies dance in your stomach. Before she can say anymore or you have a chance to wonder why he’s sent his friends to rescue you, the jukebox cuts off, and a collective groan echoes around the room.
“That was supposed to happen,” Phoenix smiles. Fanboy is speaking quietly to Harvard, and he doesn’t seem happy about whatever is being said, but you're grateful for the interruption.
There’s a soft twinkling from a piano somewhere in the room, and after a few more notes, you find the source. Phoenix continues, “That’s Bob, and you’ve met Rooster.”
Your eyes drift up from the piano player and land on Bradley, fingers tapping the wooden top, while Bob continues to find the right melody.
Rooster’s eyes are locked on you, a shy smirk lifting the corner of his mustache.
“Thanks for the save,” you say to Phoenix but keep your eyes on Rooster.
“Well, it wasn’t the actual intention, but Harvard can be a bit…” she trails off.
“Thick?”
“That’s a good word for him,” she laughs.
The bright random notes turn into a clear, rich melody that flows through the room moments before the smooth baritone of Rooster’s voice fills the air. “You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
Damn, he can sing!
Taking the lyrics literally, he doesn’t avert his eyes while he serenades you. You feel Phoenix’s hand at your elbow, but you can’t look away from the gorgeous man belting out a song just for you. Only when he draws closer do you realize she’s guiding you to him.
The bar is packed, and the crowd gathers around the piano, but somehow Rooster is always in your line of sight, and then Fanboy is in front of you, splitting the crowd to let you through.
It feels surreal but magical when somehow there’s a clear path straight to Rooster. It looks like an aisle leading to an altar, and the man that awaits you has been sent from the heavens because he’s gorgeous, kind, funny, and clearly has a talent for commanding a room. You wonder what else you could uncover, given some time.
“At long last, love has arrived,” Rooster sings as you reach his side. Phoenix slips away as you reach for Bradley’s outstretched hand.
Definitely an altar, and you’ll happily worship here for eternity. Interlocking your fingers with his, he pulls you against him. “Now that I found you, stay,” it’s more than a song, it's a question, and you nod.
Slowly, he inches closer, and the crowd takes over, singing the chorus, when his lips connect with yours and the world melts away.
Tag List Info
Take To The Skies: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @atarmychick007
Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms
#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fan fiction#rooster fan fic#reader insert#rooster singing#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#meet cute#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader#rooster x fem!reader
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
And how to come home...
Summary: You are having a miscarriage during the Uranium mission and you do your best to hide it from your fiancee, Rooster.
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!reader,
Other relationships: father Pete "Maverick" Mitchell & daughter reader
W/C: 2.2k
Rating: PG
TWs: Miscarriage
A/N: Reader in this one is Maverick's daughter and they have a great relationship. He taught her how to fly when she was barely a teen, and didn't intervene in her carrier in the same way as he did with Rooster (that might or might have not been because of Iceman). He respects her and her skills enough to realize that she's a better fit for this mission than him, and even though it killed him to send his little girl on this type of mission, he did it because he had full trust in both her leadership and flying abilities.
Masterlist | List of tags
It wasn't even a choice for you.
After all those years of listening to your father repeating "Don't think, just do." there was no consciousness in your actions, despite them being perfectly calculated to the millimeter. You knew there was no chance of you not being shot down from the sky, but you just had to save your fiancee, there was no other option.
That's why when you saw him being shot down after he just saved you, you wanted to strangle him yourself before his body even hit the ground, which (fortunately) didn't happen.
Somehow you've managed to bullshit your way back from the enemy territory and you were on your way back to base.
It was just then that you realized that something was wrong.
A sharp pain in your abdomen almost knocked you out, and Rooster just informed you that there were enemy planes on your tail. The situation was far from perfect, but you quickly glanced down to make sure, that you weren't wounded, but everything looked fine on the surface. Yet the pain didn't go away and you were sweating profusely.
And then it hit you what exactly was happening. You closed your eyes, steadied your hands, and took a deep breath. If it was hurting that badly, it already happened. Right now you had to get you both home.
- Y/N!?!?!?!?!?!? - Rooster's voice brought you down, and you quickly wiped your tears, pushing the pain as far deep inside as you possibly could.
- Masks on, we're pretending our comms are down. - you've finally said when, and when the enemy's pilot tried to communicate with you, you just made a series of nonsense gestures that were supposed to mean that indeed, your comms were down. And when he tried to give you orders, you nodded as if you perfectly understood what he meant. It was pretty easy to figure out the formation when they started moving, so you fit neatly into the gap and steadied your stick.
- Hang on, it's gonna be a rough ride, love. - you've said quietly, and you just knew that Bradley knew something was wrong, but you were hoping he'll assume you're angry about him coming back for you, at least for now. Although if the roles were reversed, you knew you would have done the same... That's why you weren't screaming and berating him to the moon. You exhaled deeply to calm yourself even more. - 3, 2, 1... - and that was all you needed. You've swayed aggressively to the right, shooting at the first plane's engine, dropping it out of the sky, but you weren't able to get the second one as easily. He was a good pilot, you could tell... And you couldn't help but wonder if life wasn't different, maybe you two somehow could be friends, especially after you've witnessed that reverse cobra mixed with falling leaf maneuver, which was more than impressive.
But everything ended well... Well... that wasn't true, not for everyone. What mattered was that you got to the ship safely, even if you had to land in the net.
After the glass dome opened, you were greeted by the cacophony of cheers and laughter, but you didn't immediately get out of the plane. Right now you were sitting in the small pool of your own blood and you just needed a minute, which would have been next to impossible if you came out to the cheering crowd. You saw your dad embracing your fiancee in a bear hug and you knew he'd be looking for your face in the crowd as well, but you couldn't face him, not yet.
So you tried to get out on the other side, but you were spotted by Rooster almost immediately, and he run to you to embrace you, happy that you both lived.
- Don't! - you said loudly as soon as he touched you. You didn't mean to... For a second, you were just as confused as he was. - Just... not now. - you added much softer, quickly unzipping the top part of your suit and pulling it over your ass, so no one would notice that it was stained with blood.
You were definitely your father's daughter when it came to dealing with things alone, and there was a high chance that you'd surpassed him in that hyper-independence.
You saw that Rooster wanted to question your actions, but he didn't, only giving you a small nod, assuming you needed a moment to process what happened and cool off.
Getting to the claustrophobic showers didn't take you long, and as soon as you closed the door behind you, you started sobbing and hitting the cold metal with all your might, as if what happened was its fault when it was your own.
You only found out a couple of hours ago, just before the mission, when those two lines on the pregnancy test stared back at you with a strength you wouldn't expect from a few pieces of plastic and paper. You knew that if you told anyone, you'd most likely be pulled from the mission, which would put the rest of the squad in danger. Mav trusted you to bring them back home more than he was afraid about your safety, and that was saying something. So you've kept your mouth shut. You knew that there was a very small chance that the embryo would survive all the machs and G's you'd be taking, and it was a coldly calculated decision.
It shouldn't even matter... The embryo could not be older than 6-8 weeks and it was just a lump of cells. Logically you knew you shouldn't be reacting this way, but the hormones took hold of your body and you were standing there crying, sobbing, wailing, with both of your fists hurt and covered in blood.
And then something else snapped. You've never got out of your flying suit as fast as you did now, and after it, you threw your helmet against the wall and almost tore the rest of the clothes from your body... They were suffocating you and you needed to get out. But you couldn't. Not in this state.
You've finally run the water at the scorching hot temperature and got into the cabin, dividing yourself from your bloody clothes and the mess you've made with a thin shower curtain.
You honestly didn't feel how hot the water was, but your skin was getting redder and redder with every second, and you just... needed to feel something. So you've stayed under the boiling stream, with your head pressed against the metal wall, watching as your blood mixed with water and went down the drain, until it was clear again, which took a good few minutes.
It took some time, but you've finally calmed down enough to stop crying and you sat under the shower, allowing the water to burn your feelings away.
After what was almost an hour, but you didn't know that, because time got kinda wonky, Bradley came looking for you.
- Y/N...? Honey...? Are you...? - the rest of that sentence got stuck in his throat when he noticed your bloody clothes on the floor and the red streaks left by your fists on the white door. - Y/N!?!? - he instantly panicked and you couldn't blame him.
- I'm fine... - you've said quietly, not sure if he even heard you with the water still flowing from the showerhead on the highest setting. - I'm taking a shower... Please leave me alone... - you've added, your voice a bit more confident.
But he didn't leave... Instead, he moved the shower curtain, and when he saw you on the ground, he instantly got next to you with his clothes still on and pulled you under his arm. He knew you far too well to believe that you were indeed fine.
- What happened...? - he asked, pulling you closer. Your muscle memory acted faster than your brain could, and you melted into his body.
- Nothing... - the lie burned in your throat so harshly that you almost choked.
- The blood... - he dug deeper, intensely studying what was visible on your body. He didn't notice any major wounds besides your knuckles, but that didn't explain why the rest of your clothes were bloody.
You didn't want to say anything... You honestly didn't have the energy right now. You knew Bradley wanted kids more than anything, and that he would blame you for your stupid decision and you just wanted to postpone seeing that angry disappointed look he'll give you, so you shook your head for no. You didn't want the hug to end just yet, so you selfishly kept quiet.
- Y/N... Should I get a doctor...? - he asked, not sure what else to do. He honestly wanted to help, to calm you down, to get you out of that state you were in.
- No, don't go... - you whispered. You weren't ready to deal with that part yet. - I... - you've started, but continuing was much harder than you expected. - I had a miscarriage... - you finally blurted out and felt him tensing against your body...
- You are... You were...? - he didn't know what to say, different emotions bubbling under his skin.
- I found out about 20 minutes before the takeoff... I don't even know why I took that stupid test... - you honestly didn't know. Since you were only about 2-3 weeks late, and your period wasn't exactly regular, you just assumed it was because of stress. But then... This stupid second line appeared on that even more stupid test, and suddenly going on this specific mission became a choice. And there was just too much responsibility on your shoulders to bail. No chance that you would send them there with a different pilot, even as good as your father. You've all trained to work together well and that type of last-second change would have been disastrous. You were angry with yourself, but that didn't change the fact that it already happened and now you had to deal with the consequences.
On the one hand, you wanted to apologize to Rooster... To express how sorry you were that you basically chose to kill his child. But on the other... You just knew you've made the righ decision because his life and the lives of the rest of the team were more important.
He finally pulled you into his lap, fully embracing you in his arms, and hiding his face in the nook of your neck.
- I'm sorry... - he finally whispered. - I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't share that with me. That you had to go through it alone... - that statement shocked you... No, no, no... He didn't do anything wrong... But before you were able to protest, he asked. - When...? - he didn't have to finish the question; you knew what he wanted to know.
- It started when we were in the F-14, right before we got spotted by the enemy... - you finally mumbled under your breath,
- Ohmygod... - he exhaled so quietly that you weren't sure if he actually said something. - While we were still in the air... And yet you still brought us home safe, to our family... - he wasn't screaming, there was no anger or disappointment in his voice. He just held you in his arms and allowed you to mourn in your own way, and only gods knew how much you needed it. - You will still need to see a doctor... - he whispered and you were only able to nod in agreement. - But for now, I'm here for you... - he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head - You can break if that's what you need... We're going to get through this... We're just going to have to take turns, ok...? Sometimes I will be the strong one, and sometimes you... And right now, it's my turn, because you got us home in one piece. I've got you... - you were already past the point of breaking, so you didn't need to scream, cry, or wail... You just needed someone to take care of you, and right now you had the perfect man for the job.
#my writing#tw: miscarriage#top gun#top gun fanfiction#Top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun rooster#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#Bradley Bradshaw x reader#Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader#Rooster fanfiction#Rooster x reader#Rooster x fem!reader
278 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing.
Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing.
W/C: 2k
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
READ IT NOW: Tumblr // A03
#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fan fiction#rooster fan fic#reader insert#rooster singing#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#meet cute#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader#rooster x fem!reader#tgm#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#top gun fic
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
reader being a tease and giving bradley hickies in the form of her first initial
"honey." bradley moaned, "you're gonna leave a mark."
"i know." you smirked, continuing to suck on a pulse point of his neck. "i want to make sure everyone knows you're mine."
and you were right. bradley woke up the next morning, to see your hickies in the form of your initial.
rolling his eyes, he tried to cover as much as could but the top was still peaking out of his uniform.
"get malled by a beat rooster?" hangman snorted watching him walk onto the base.
"something like that." rooster grinned, starting to undress himself for a shower, hearing a gasp he turned to see hangman cracking up.
"your girl marked you." he snorted.
"shut up." he smacked his back with his towel.
#fi's baby blurbs#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#bradley bradhsaw x girlfriend!reader#bradley bradshaw x wife!reader#rooster x reader#rooster x fem!reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley “rooster” bradshaw
262 notes
·
View notes
Text
come home.
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Reader
a top gun: maverick fic
a/n: i am so excited to share this fic with you all! i started writing it as soon as i came home from my first watch and the final edits came in last night as i reviewed my notes from my third visit to the theater. as always, let me know what you think!
words: 16k
content advisories: language, alcohol use, alcohol mention, food consumption, general shenanigans and goofy group chats
acknowledgements: thank you to my beta-readers and collaborators, aimz (@ssaic-jareau) and katie (@extrakatie). shout out to red (@hurricanejjareau), my concept co-creator who helped me at every step. couldn’t do this without you!
summary: if home is where the heart is, you hate it when your home has to crash-land on an aircraft carrier. or, what happens when dagger squad comes home.
masterlist | ask
You hear your name over your cube and stand, surprised to see one of the few admirals in the building standing by your desk. They aren’t a rarity in the Pentagon by any stretch, but they don’t usually need to see you.
Your phone sits open, waiting for a text from Bradley. The exchange from last night stands lonely on your screen.
4:56am On the deck! I love you.
4:57am I love you! Fly safe and come home to me in one piece.
4:59am ❤️
“Sir?”
He hands you a piece of paper. It appears to be a boarding pass for a plane headed to San Diego in a couple of hours. Your stomach drops and you have no idea what your face looks like when you meet the admiral’s gaze again.
“Transport is due in tonight.”
You swallow. There’s part of you that always worried about Bradley dying out there in one of his fucking planes…
“Sir, is…” You clear your throat. “Is he…”
The admiral spares you. “He’s alive. And mostly fine.” There’s a funny little smile on his face. “Be sure to thank Lt. Seresin when you arrive.”
“Hangman?” You ask, your brow furrowed. “Respectfully, sir, what the hell happened out there?”
+++
You check in to the naval hospital and practically jog to Bradley’s room. You don’t find him right away, but you do see part of his team - Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, and Payback - sitting in the little plastic chairs in the waiting area.
Without thinking about it too much, you hardly wait for Jake to get to his feet before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest or shoulder, or whatever you can reach.
“Thank you.”
You can feel him nod and tighten his grip on you. One arm secures you around the waist, his other hand holding your head to him.
The few details you know are enough to owe him for a lifetime, so you thank him again. You’re not sure what you say in total, but you certainly repeat yourself a few times.
“Of course,” he replies. “It’s my job and I’d do it again.”
You hear a scoff and pull back, wiping your eyes.
You’re met with Phoenix’s grin. “He’s being dramatic,” she says. “It wasn’t that exciting.”
“Excuse me,” Hangman retorts. “Did you dead-eye fire at a fifth-gen fighter yesterday while it was nose to nose with Maverick and Rooster, destroying the incoming missile and the aircraft, surely and heroically saving their lives?”
Phoenix rolls her eyes. You just know this incident will give him enough ego ammunition for the rest of time.
“That’s enough,” you tell him with a smile. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you just breached your clearance.”
Bob pulls a face. “He definitely did.”
You grin, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in seven hours. “Where’s Fanboy?”
Payback looks up. “Cafeteria. He’ll be back soon. Want anything?”
“No, I’m good. I ate at the airport in DC.” You peer down the hallway. “Just eager to see my boy.”
“That was…” Bob says under his breath, checking his watch and looking at Phoenix, “like seven hours ago.”
“Is that who I think it is?” A voice down the hallway has you turning over your shoulder. “Chim!”
“Coyote!”
He grins and scoops you up, turning you around in a circle before setting you back on your feet.
“With the Rooster in the coop, the Chicken couldn’t have been too far behind, right?” Hangman quips, that shit-eating grin back on his face.
“That’s a stupid-ass nickname and you know it,” you tell him.
He shrugs. “It’s your call sign, now. Better get used to it.”
“Wait,” Phoenix says. “Chicken, I get, but Chims? I’m lost.”
“It’s just a stupid thing that evolved,” Coyote says, shrugging. “Stupid way to say chicken turned into chimken, then Chicken became Chim…” He waves her off. “I mean, how do you get Bag Man from Hangman?”
Hangman rolls his eyes, ready to come back at her but something stops him. He looks past you and smiles. “Hey, Mav! How’s he doin’?”
“Good,” a voice replies. “He’ll be ready for visitors in about fifteen minutes. They’re running a couple of cognitive tests and then they want to keep him overnight, just in case. He smacked his head pretty good on ejection and again on landing, so even with the helmet…” The voice trails off and you turn. “Who’s this?”
Maverick Mitchell’s face is a familiar one from photos and the old home videos Carole showed you before she died, not to mention the brief glimpses you got at the funeral.
He’s got a place of honor on Rooster’s desk at home, but you’ve always known the focal point of that picture to be Goose in the RIO seat. Maverick is, of course, a recognizable figure, but not one that inspires any degree of fondness.
He offers a hand to you and you take it somewhat coldly, keeping a neutral expression on your face. Before you can remind him who you are, Jake gives your name and adds, “We call her Chicken though.”
“Chicken, huh? When did that start?” Mav asks with a smile.
You shrug, your mouth pinched. “When Bradley was in OCS, I guess.”
“I’m sure I’ll hear the story later,” he says. His smile softens. “It’s good to see you again.”
Sure.
You give him a tight pull of your mouth that could be a smile if you tried a little harder. “Yeah.”
You feel a little bad - you know Maverick had a good hand in saving Bradley’s life as well, but the hours you’ve spent drying tears over this motherfucker in the last thirteen years makes that easy to overlook.
Turning, you check in with Bob and Phoenix, “I’m gonna head down to mess and pick something up. Need anything?”
“I thought you -”
Phoenix elbows Bob and answers for both of them. “We’re good. We’ll be here.”
+++
Maverick isn’t fazed by your chilly reception. He knows who you are.
“What was that about?” Coyote asks, finding a seat.
Maverick shrugs. “As you might recall, Rooster and I weren’t on the best terms when we all arrived. Recent developments aside, I get it. I’m sure it’ll be alright.” He offers a firm pat on Coyote’s shoulder before sitting down himself.
“Why’d they let you loose?” Phoenix asks. “Didn’t you also go down in enemy territory?”
“Ah, they don’t care much about me. Rooster still has many distinguished years to offer the Navy.”
Phoenix snorts. “C’mon.”
“Alright,” Mav relents. “I had them check me out on the carrier and I was fine. I insisted they send Rooster for a full work-up, just in case.”
Phoenix hums, leaving it alone for now.
“How long’s it been since they’ve seen each other?” Hangman asks.
“The poultry?”
Hangman snorts and nods.
Phoenix shrugs. “Unless he stopped off in Virginia on his way here, it’s been five or six months. He’d been overseas for a minute and he wasn’t due back for shore duty until the middle of spring.” She sighs. “Maybe he’ll actually pull his head out of his ass and marry her this time.”
+++
You check in with the front desk again to confirm Bradley can take visitors again before you go upstairs. You don’t want to spend any more time than is necessary with Maverick.
It is strange though, you figure. The only reason you know Bradley at all is because Mav pulled his papers. It makes you smile, remembering back to undergrad at UVA, more than a decade ago.
“Excuse me!”
You turn and smile, finding a tall and sort-of cute (mostly tall) guy jogging up to you.
“Do you know where I can find…um…” He checks his phone. “Professor Taylor? I have office hours and I’m late.”
You nod. “I just came from her office.” You turn and point at the building a little ways down the path. “Head over there and she’s on the third floor. The elevator’s broken, though, so you’ll have to go up the stairs on the outside of the building.”
He heaves a breath. “Thank you. You don’t happen to be in 312 with her, do you?”
“Yeah,” you tell him. “I sit behind you.”
He (you suppose unconsciously) brings his hand to the back of his head. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” You put an earbud back in. “I’ll be there Thursday. Don’t be later than you already are!”
“Oh, shit.” He takes off at a run and hops backward for a moment, facing you. “Thanks!”
You step out of the elevator and make your way down the hall, bypassing the team in a hurry. A couple of them stand to greet you, but you can see Bradley through the window and that’s your sole focus.
He’s in pajamas - well, a UVA shirt and pair of joggers - rather than a gown. That alone is enough to keep your blood pressure down. He looks fine from here…
“Christ, baby! What are you doing he-”
Your lips on his are enough to shut him up. He lets out a little breath, melting into you. His arms slide around you, stealing your breath as your hands knead into the hair at the base of his neck. He flinches a little and you pull back immediately, letting go.
“Sorry.”
He shakes his head, his mega-watt grin blinding you. “You’re fine. You’re perfect. Hi.” His hand pulls from your waist, coming up to rest against your cheek. “When did you get in?”
“About an hour ago.” You slide a hand down the outside of his arm, holding his hand to your cheek. You kiss his palm. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” he says, nearly at a whisper.
You shuffle so you can wrap your arms around him and burrow deep, holding him as tight as you can. “You’re not allowed to crash planes anymore, okay?”
He chuckles. “No promises, sweetheart.”
You stand there for a moment, swaying a little. The nurses are kind enough to leave you alone for a second. He smells the same - something warm and sunshiny, with a touch of jet fuel, canvas, and something clean and cozy.
“You scared the fuck outta me.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. He means it. “I’ve got some stuff I want to talk to you about, too.”
Your stomach drops and you lean back to look at him.
“Ah, shit. Sorry. That’s - that’s not how I wanted to phrase that.” He smiles at you and your heart unclenches. “I just wanted to fill you in on a couple of things. But I want to hear about what you’re working on, first.”
He lets you guide him to the bed, where he settles in among the pillows and pulls you with him.
You curl into his side and start telling him about the project you’re working on at the Pentagon - at least the basic details he’s allowed to know - for a few seconds before he interrupts you.
“Wait, how did you get here?”
You twist around to look at him. “Do I need to send you back for more concussion screening?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, I mean -”
“I got here in a commercial airliner. They’re significantly bigger than the planes you fly, but I think you’ve seen them before? Maybe a Boeing 777?”
“Shut up. You know what I mean.”
You smile and relent. “Yeah, alright. My boss said, verbatim, ‘given your highly-decorated boyfriend got blown up in enemy airspace and crash-landed an F-14 on a carrier less than twelve hours ago, you can take a couple of days off.’”
“He sounds cool.”
“He’s reasonable.”
There’s quiet for a moment. You breathe deeply, letting out a long, relieved sigh. Bradley’s fingers trace patterns on your shoulder somewhat absently.
“Hey,” he says.
You look up.
“Does it bug you that we’ve been together so long and I’ve never asked you to marry me?”
You swallow to cover the bolt of adrenaline shot into your system. “You’ve asked me to marry you plenty of times.”
A cup of coffee lands in his hands after a bad night of sleep. You sit beside him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“Marry me,” he says, smiling.
You laugh. “No.”
He mimes stabbing himself in the gut, twisting and pulling the invisible blade. “You wound me, my lady.”
“Call me when you’ve got a ring, honey.”
And it’s true. Except on paper and in the eyes of the Navy, for all intents and purposes, you’re married.
“Yeah, but seriously,” he says. He almost sounds concerned.
You sit up a little, bracing yourself on your arm so you can look at him. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well…” He looks anywhere but you, surprisingly bashful. “I just…I don’t want you to feel that I take you for granted.”
“I don’t feel that way,” you tell him, quickly. “Not at all.”
“I know. But you deserve better than just a long-time boyfriend who’s too busy to get his shit together and lock you down already.”
You huff a laugh. “Last I checked, I’m not dating Jake.”
Bradley rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, I do, and it has.” Your free hand shakes as you run it over his collar and down his chest. “But I’m fine, baby. You know that. I’m in no rush.”
“You’ve thought about it, right? Making it official?” He asks.
The genuine insecurity in his voice makes you smile. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it since our fourth date.”
“Fourth?” Now he just sounds offended.
You push at his shoulder. “Fourth. You know what you did on the third.”
He tips his head. You’re right.
There’s quiet for another moment.
“Bradley Bradshaw,” you start. He really does have a goofy, delightful name, doesn’t he? “When we’ve got time, we’ll make it happen. I don’t need time or a ring or a wedding when I’ve got you coming home with me after the Navy’s had her way with you.”
“You make us sound like swingers.”
You laugh. “Well, the Navy isn’t your mistress and neither am I, so I’ll leave you to do the math on that one.”
“Fair enough,” he says. He pulls you down beside him and kisses your forehead, tipping your chin up for something a little more proper. It’s easy to melt into him.
“But seriously,” he continues. “I want to marry the hell out of you and I love you. Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” you tell him. “That’s definitely okay.” You pause for a second. “But when you’re actually ready to ask, you better do it for real so I know you’re not joking this time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
+++
You run into a three-star admiral at the coffee bar later in the evening. He taps your shoulder and says your name. You throw your headphones off your ears and around your neck, looking over at him.
“Sir?”
“They call you Chicken, don’t they?”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Should my ears be burning, sir?”
“Only a little,” he says. He offers a hand. “Admiral Simpson.”
You take it. “I’ve heard lots about you, Admiral. My supervisor at the Pentagon was class of ‘93 at Top Gun.”
“Ah. Thunder is a friend. I’m glad to hear he’s still working his magic over there.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shall we?” He gestures down the hall and you nod, walking a little ahead of him through the door.
You walk with him in silence for a little while. At this point, you’ve grown immune to the intimidation factor of high-ranking Navy officers (especially pilots). You know they’re all, at least on the inside, little kids who love planes. Plus, anyone who willingly gets into a two-billion-dollar bomb for a day job has to be a little crazy.
“I was talking to Thunder this morning, actually.”
Your step only falters a little bit, but you wait for him to say more.
“I hear the work you’re doing at the Pentagon is important.”
“Yes, sir. I think so.” You offer him a small smile and he returns it.
He stops a little ways outside Bradley’s door. You join him, keeping your eyes affixed to the nurse schedule on the whiteboard across the way. “I also hear that you request a transfer every time Rooster is stationed somewhere new.”
You shrug. “I make an effort. Since he’s been overseas so much the last year or so, I’ve settled in at the Pentagon a little bit more.”
“We spoke a bit this morning about transferring your contract to NIWC Pacific. There are a couple of projects relevant to your current work that we’d like to have you lead down here, if you’re interested.”
You blink a couple of times. “When would that transfer go into effect?”
“Not this Monday, but the Monday after. You’d theoretically have the rest of this week off and next week would be spent facilitating the first part of the responsibility transfer among your Pentagon team. Of course, the Navy would be happy to assist with relocation, as your permanent address is also Rooster’s.” He sighs, almost sounding regretful.
“Sir?”
“Of course, this would be easier if you were married, but that’s neither here nor there.” He smiles at you and starts to walk away. “Just think about the transfer. Thunder will reach out soon for your official word.”
+++
“So,” Bradley says without preamble, “about Maverick.”
You look over at him, a question in your eyes.
Bradley seems to struggle with his words for a second. “We both saved each others’ asses out there. I’d be dead without him.”
There’s silence for a second. You know he’ll get there eventually.
“He’s the closest thing to a father I remember and it was… weird being around him again.”
He reaches out and you take his hand. His thumb passes back and forth over your knuckles, treating them almost like a worry stone.
Bradley flies down the hill on his bike, going way too fast, but he can’t feel fear over the rush of the wind on his face. He pedals faster… faster… faster.
Before he can blink, he’s upside down, tumbling over the handlebars and onto the asphalt. He lands on his arm and something doesn’t feel right. He licks his lips and wipes his nose of what he’s sure is sweat. It comes off his chin red, dripping onto the pavement.
He’s stunned, frankly. There’s something in his nine-year-old brain that can’t grasp the concept of his own lack of invincibility.
All at once, the pain starts and he begins to wail in earnest, yelling for his mom, or Mav, or whoever might be around.
Maverick hears him first. He’s sitting at the Bradshaws’ kitchen table, nursing a beer in the sunshine from the window. Faster than the jet he flies daily, he rockets out of his seat, throwing the door open and hopping the porch fencing, bracing his fall with his hands before finding his feet again. He can see Bradley down the hill on the street, small and blond and covered in dirt and blood.
“Mav!”
“I’m coming, buddy! Hold on.”
Pete isn’t even breathless when he gets to Bradley, scooping him onto his hip with one arm and rescuing his bike with the other.
He can’t bring himself to care that his white v-neck is soaking up the blood from Bradley’s bloody forehead. He holds him tightly, tighter when Bradley burrows further into him.
“It’s okay, bud. We’ll sort you out.”
Mav opens the door and calls out for Carole, his voice loud but calm. He kisses Bradley’s head and sets him down on the counter next to the sink. “Alright, buddy. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
Bradley’s sobs have calmed to hiccups and he refuses to let go of his arm, hugging it to his body. Mav figures ten minutes won’t matter much for that.
Carole is admirably calm as she joins them, washing the garden off her hands before retrieving the first aid kit in the bathroom.
With gentle hands, Mav cleans the dirt out of the cut on Bradley’s forehead and the scrapes on his chin and nose. Carole gives them space after a moment, watching Maverick talk quietly to Bradley, narrating his movement and giving him a hard time about “using the afterburner on the descent.”
It makes her smile.
“I’m ready for him to be back in my life again, I think. Losing Ice has been…” He pauses. “It’s been hard and weird and I need what’s left of my family, I think.” He looks at you. “What do you think?”
“I think if you’re ready to move on, that’s a good thing.” You think for a moment and add, “I’m glad you and Mav had some time together. It’s been a long time.”
You sit with Ice in the waiting room. He has a hand on your shoulder, warm and solid. The two of you get to your feet when Bradley returns, looking like he’s aged a decade in the past twenty-four hours.
“How is she?” You ask.
He shakes his head. “Fading fast.”
Ice’s hand slides off your shoulder as you leave him, crossing the room to take Bradley in your arms. He holds you tightly, burrowing into you, his eyes squeezing shut.
His breath catches and you adjust your grip, holding even tighter. Tears land on your shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
He takes a shuddering breath. “She wants to see you if you’re up to it.” He looks over your shoulder. “You too, Uncle Ice.”
You lead the way down the hall, Ice following behind you. He’s like a looming shadow: lean, strong, and intimidating.
Carole looks awfully small, but they’ve removed all the tubes and wires. She smiles at you, soft, before her gaze shifts to Ice.
“Come here, you two.”
You take a seat to her left, by her head. Ice takes the one next to you. Carole holds his hand.
“I’ve asked Bradley to consider forgiving Pete, but I know he won’t for a long time.” She pauses. “You two are the only family he has left, in his mind. I know you’ll take care of him, but you need to take care of each other, too.”
“You got it, Carole,” Ice says, the side of his mouth lifting in a handsome, crooked smile. “Mav’s at our wing, too. Flying low-vis.”
She smiles at you, sharing a moment only the Navy-adjacent can truly appreciate. Her gaze grows serious and she looks at Ice. “Get Bradley back home and call Maverick, please. He’s the only one allowed to be here when I die.”
You’ll never forget the look of hollow grief on Maverick’s face when you saw him for the first time the next morning. You were left alone as Bradley brushed past him without a word and stepped into the room to see his mother’s body, to say goodbye.
Maverick doesn’t speak and neither do you. When Bradley returns, Maverick reaches out.
Bradley pulls away with a roll of his shoulder, taking your hand. “C’mon,” he says to you. “There’s a lot of stuff to do.”
You don’t see Maverick, watching you go, feeling more alone than he has in his entire life.
“Yeah. It’s nice to understand him a little bit better as an adult.” He shrugs. “I really hated him for pulling my papers but I know he was just…” He heaves a sigh. “He’s just trying to do right by me, I think. I didn’t get that before.”
“That’s understandable.” You trace little patterns on his shirt. “He hurt you, held you back. You’d be insane not to be at least a little mad.”
He hums again. “I guess. I did meet you, though, so it’s not all bad.”
“No?” You ask, smiling. “Not all bad?”
“No,” he replies. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “And I was thinking about how shitty I’ve been about that - I can’t imagine how me griping about my wasted time at UVA made you feel. I’m really sorry.”
You shake your head. “I understood the implicit exception.”
“It was still insensitive. Mav said something about that today and it kind of clicked. So…” He sighs. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like it was a mistake or a fluke that I met you.”
“You’re the dumbest man alive, you know that?” You pat his chest. “And don’t you think I would have told you if that hurt my feelings?”
He snorts. “Now, yeah. Ten years ago? No.”
“Fair enough,” you reply, squeezing his hand.
He smiles. “I guess what I’m really saying is, be nice to him. I’m sure he’ll want to get to know you.”
“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You return his smile and kiss the back of his hand. “I love you, you know.”
“I do know that, yes,” he replies with a smile. “And I love you.”
+++
Bradley reaches for his phone and you hand it to him without looking up from your tablet.
“I can get it, you know. I’m not actually injured.”
You smile sweetly at him and he rolls his eyes. He fires off a text to Hangman.
9:03pm I need a favor.
Jake replies immediately. 9:03pm I just saved your life and you need another favor?
9:03pm It’s easy I promise.
Jake doesn’t reply, so Bradley sends his request anyway.
9:04pm Can you or Mav grab Chims and take her to the hotel? She needs to sleep and I need to make a phone call before it gets too late.
The response is instant. 9:04pm Wait are you finally pulling the trigger???
Bradley stuffs his grin. 9:05pm If you say anything, I’ll ironically kill you.
9:05pm I always wanted an unironic and heroic death. Just for that, you get Mav.
9:05pm Thanks. Seriously dont say anything i swear
He sends another text to a friend, Lt. Gavin “Stub” Alonso in Virginia - one who has keys to your shared apartment.
9:05pm Are you still up/can you help me with something?
Stub replies promptly, thankfully. 9:05pm I’m up. All good in SD?
9:06pm All good. Need a favor. Can you drive to the apt and call me?
9:06pm I need something shipped ASAP.
9:07pm Easy. I’ll be there in 20 mins.
He gets a final text from Hangman. 9:07pm I wont!! Who do you think I am?
9:07pm Don’t answer that.
Bradley puts his phone down and leans back against the pillows. “Hey, when’s the last time you slept?”
“What?” You look over at him again looking admittedly a little dazed.
“I asked when’s the last time you slept.”
“I slept last night. Why?”
“I just know you’re still on East Coast time, so I wanted to make sure that you’re able to get back to the hotel tonight.”
You clamber out of the chair, setting your tablet aside, and sit next to him on the bed. “I’m fine.” You offer a pinkie to him. “I promise.”
He smiles and links his pinkie with yours, twisting your linked fingers to kiss the back of your hand. “I believe you, but you need to get some sleep.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll walk off base and call an Uber or something.” You hop off the side of the bed and start gathering your things.
Bradley chases after you, grabbing you around the waist and kissing your neck. “I called in a favor. Stay put.”
“Bradley,” you ask, “who are you inconveniencing this evening?”
He shrugs, playfully pulling you closer. “Nobody important.”
The two of you mess around, quipping back and forth a little longer than you realized.
“I can come back,” comes a playful chirp from the door.
The two of you freeze and look toward the door - Bradley’s holding your phone in the air with one hand while you attempt to climb him like a tree. You’ve got an elbow digging into his shoulder while your legs wrap around his waist.
Maverick’s in the doorway, leaning with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.
You slide down and get your feet under you while Bradley wordlessly hands your phone over.
“Hey, Mav,” Bradley says with a rueful grin, his hand rising to needlessly run over the back of his neck. “Thanks for the ride.”
Maverick snorts. “Ride’s not for you, kiddo. You’re stuck here until morning.”
“What?” Bradley says, a smile on his face. “I can’t be polite?”
You look between them, feeling more than a little out of the loop. Strangely, you’re also looking forward to getting to know Maverick a little better now.
Grabbing your bag, you give Bradley a quick kiss before shuttling him back into bed with a few gentle shoves. He pulls you back before you can get too far, running the back of his fingers over your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.
“Goodnight. I love you.”
You smile, winking at him. “I love you too. Get some sleep.”
+++
Tonight won’t be the night you get to know Maverick, apparently. He takes your bag as soon as you’re outside, strapping it to the back of his bike and replacing the helmet that used to sit there. He hands the helmet to you and helps you get it on, tightening the strap under your chin.
You raise the visor. “Where’s yours?”
He smiles. “Don’t have one. This,” he says, tapping the side of your head, “is for my protection as much as yours. I just got Bradley back and I’m not about to screw it up now.”
You smile, letting him help you onto the back of the bike.
He mounts up and starts the engine, zipping up his bomber jacket. You study the patches for a second before tentatively placing your hands around Maverick’s waist, leaning into him as he settles the bike, kicking up the kickstand.
“Ready?” He asks.
You nod, but quickly realize he can’t see you. “Yep! All good.”
He covers one of your hands with his, pulling it into his shearling-lined pocket. There’s a lump of bunched fabric where you guess 30 years of passengers have held on for dear life. You take the lining in a tight fist, matching the hold with your other hand. Maverick pats your hand, satisfied. “Hang on tight.”
+++
Stubs calls Bradley about two minutes after you leave.
“Hey man, perfect timing,” Bradley says with a smile. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“Hey, look. As long as you’re getting what I think you’re getting, we’re all good. I still owe you from Oahu.” Stubs doesn’t even sound tired, which isn’t a surprise. He’s always been a night owl.
Bradley tips his head. “I think we’re on the same page. So, head up to our room and into the closet. I have a chest of drawers on the left side.”
There’s quiet while Stubs climbs the stairs. He can hear the closet slide open and the light turn on. “Damn, is she always this tidy?”
Bradley snorts. “No.”
“Just checking.” There’s a brief pause. “Okay, I’m here.”
“Alright check the bottom drawer first.” Bradley sits up, resting his elbow on his knee and his forehead settled on his hand.
“Are you telling me you don’t know where it is?”
Bradley rolls his eyes. “I literally put it there over a year ago and I ran two three-month assignments overseas and a special detachment recall since then. Gimme a break.”
“Fine. Okay. Bottom drawer.” There’s silence while he looks. “Do you guys seriously have two vibrat- never mind.”
“Sorry.”
“Nothing in here that looks like…a velvet box? Right? That’s what I’m looking for?”
“Yeah. Try the next drawer. Shouldn’t be anything questionable in there.”
Another pause. “Holy shit. Is this all your dad and Maverick’s stuff?”
Bradley nods, closing his eyes and trying to picture the box, where he’d last seen it to hide it from you. “Yeah. It should be with the patches back there, I think”
“Sweet. Let me put you down a second.”
There’s a bit of shuffling and then a little triumphant sound. Another shuffle. “I got it.”
“Please make sure the ring is in there.”
Stubs laughs. “It’s here. Damn, man. This looks great. She’s gonna love it.”
“Thanks.” Bradley smiles to himself. “Can you get it same-day or overnight? I’ll give you the address. It’ll be out in the Mohave so I can avoid base mixups.”
“Consider it done.”
+++
Maverick pulls the bike up in front of the hotel and you remove your helmet, shaking your head. You take Mav’s offered hand and dismount, unclipping your bag from the storage in back.
“Thanks, Mav.”
He steps off the bike and relieves you of your helmet. “Of course. Can I come get you tomorrow? I’ll have one of the boys bring Rooster’s car to the hospital before he’s due to get out.”
“Sure. Thanks.” You hike the strap of your bag a little higher on your shoulder. “Hey, um.”
He looks at you, his eyebrows high.
“I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Bradley told me that you guys have kind of… figured your stuff out.”
Maverick smiles, crooked and handsome. “I’d like to think so.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad he met you at UVA. Makes me feel better.”
“Me too.” You offer him a smile and to your own surprise, reach out for a hug. He returns it, warm and kind. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Shoot me a text in the morning.”
“I’m not sure I -”
“Bradley put it in while you were in the bathroom.”
You smile again, wide and bright. “Of course he did.”
+++
You wake up earlier than expected, no doubt still stuck on Eastern time, and fire off a text to the “Dagger Squad + Chim - Mav” group chat. The name, obviously, wasn’t your idea.
On a whim, you change it when you send your message.
6:34am Breakfast?
You changed the name of the group to “Dagger Squad Jr.”
Jake Seresin changed the name of the group to “Dagger Squad but on Land”
Bob Floyd changed the name of the group to “Why are we changing it???”
You sit and watch the small notifications come in.
Tasha Trace changed the name of the group to “Dagger Squadron OSS”
You ask a question. 6:37am OSS?
Jake Seresin
6:37am Operational Support Staff
Coyote Machado
6:38am ^^^^
Reuben Fitch
6:38am When’s breakfast?
Fanboy Garcia
6:39am Where’s breakfast?
You reply. 6:40am Who’s breakfast?
Jake Seresin
6:40am Why’s breakfast?
Your heart leaps a little bit when Bradley replies.
Bradley Love ❤️
6:41am Some of us are trying to sleep in.
Bradley Love ❤️ changed the name of the group to “Dagger Fuckheads”
Jake Seresin
6:41am Too fuckin bad.
6:41am I like that one. Keep it.
Tasha Trace sent a gif.
Bob Floyd
6:42am Who’s that?
Coyote Machado
6:42am Kim Kardashian hitting her sister with her purse.
Jake Seresin
6:42am You’re lucky I’m feeling nice this morning and will choose to forget that you know that.
You fire off another reply. 6:43am Jake……….You also know who that is.
Jake Seresin
6:43am No comment.
Bradley Love ❤️
6:44am I’m muting you guys. Text me if you actually need something.
You smile. 6:44am Look what you guys did omg
Tasha Trace
6:45am I’m game for breakfast.
Reuben Fitch
6:45am Chims - have you been to the Henry?
You shake your head, alone in your room. 6:45am Nope. A favorite?
Tasha Trace
6:46am Oooooooh good call.
6:46am Definitely a favorite. And it’s right next to base.
Fanboy Garcia
6:47am Are we inviting Mav?
You reply. 6:47am He’s supposed to give me a lift to the hospital later. Who’s dropping Rooster’s car?
Tasha Trace
6:48am Me. @Jake Seresin can you come get me from the hospital at 0750?
Jake Seresin
6:48am Yeah I can get you. Probably still beat everyone to the Henry too lmao
Bob Floyd
6:49am Better you than me, Phoenix. Hangman’s driving scares the fuck out of me.
Jake Seresin
6:49am Everything scares the fuck out of you.
Tasha Trace
6:50am Fuck you be nice
Jake Seresin
6:50am No ❤️
You roll your eyes and reply again. 6:51am So who’s coming to get me
Reuben Fitch
6:52am I’ll come get you. Are you at the lodge?
You reply promptly. 6:52am Yeah.
6:53am Okay y’all. Meet @ 0800 at The Henry.
Finally rolling out of bed, you give Maverick a call.
“Good morning!” he says, answering on the third ring. “You’re up early.”
“So are you,” you point out. “Any interest in breakfast at 0800 at The Henry?”
He makes a noise. “I’m out already. I’ll be back on land around ten. Want to head to the hospital then?”
“Sounds good to me. Thanks, Mav.”
“Of course.”
+++
Maverick is still out on the boat with Penny and Amelia when he gets a call from Bradley.
“Hey, you okay?” He has to shout over the noise of the water.
“All good. Are you going out to the desert in the next couple of days?”
Mav checks in with Penny, who smiles at him and takes the wheel. Ducking into the cabin, he closes the little door behind him and falls onto the couch. “I’m headed out there this weekend. Why?”
“I’m getting something sent over there and I was wondering if you’d be okay going to pick it up or…?”
“Bradley Bradshaw…” Maverick starts, a smile on his face. “Now, what on earth could you be shipping to my place in the desert?”
Bradley laughs. “It could be something that looks like jewelry…but I already threatened to kill Jake if he said anything.”
“I won’t say anything. I was planning on inviting Dagger over to the hangar this weekend for some fun, anyway. I can give it to you then and get some of your dad’s stuff to camouflage it.”
Mav still has a bunch of Goose’s stuff from Annapolis. Carole never wanted any of it back in the interest of keeping some storage space free in the house and Bradley inherited everything she had.
“Sounds perfect. Thanks again, Mav.”
“Anytime, kiddo. I’ll see you later when I bring your lady over.”
+++
“That is absolutely not what happened,” Coyote says, setting down his coffee. “I’m the only one who got the climb-out on the first try!”
Jake snorts. “Yeah…and you went into G-lock and almost burned in doing it.”
“That was so fuckin’ scary, dude,” Fanboy says. “We really thought you were a goner.”
You lean forward, feeling strangely settled amongst the Dagger team (a moniker they’ve taken beyond the special detachment and will probably keep for the rest of their careers - you’ve even heard mutterings about making patches for their jackets) even without Bradley by your side. “So, what did happen?”
“I finished the course and made it into exfil but I just couldn’t swing the Gs the first time, you know?” Coyote replies. “The thing is though, my little victory was totally overshadowed by the bird strike that put Phoenix and Bob in the hospital.”
You blink a couple of times. You must have missed that in Bradley’s daily updates. “You’re kidding.”
“Nah,” Phoenix says. “We got ambushed by some birds, both engines went out, and we had to bail. Mav saved our ass, I swear. He was babysitting everyone in the air that day.”
Coyote shakes his head. “It was so smart, though. He told you guys to bail at just the right time and he pulled tone on me to try and get me unlocked. I dunno how he thinks of this stuff.”
“At least you guys will know what to do next time, though, yeah?” You ask.
“Definitely,” Payback says. “Throwing tone on someone in G-lock went straight into my toolbox, I dunno about you guys.”
“Same,” Jake says, his mouth full of french toast.
Bob nods. “I’ll always recommend that if I’m in that situation again, yeah.”
More talk about training floats around the table for a while before Jake sits back, throwing his napkin on his plate. “So Miss Not-Bradshaw, what have you been up to in the last few weeks?”
Phoenix snorts into her glass of orange juice.
“First of all,” you reply, “take that up with Bradley, not me.”
That gets a laugh out of the table.
“Secondly, I’ve been working on some highly-classified white pages for SecDef and SecNav, so they’ve been keeping me busy.”
“That sounds interesting,” Bob says, his eyes kind and intrigued behind his glasses.
You smile. “I actually provided the one-pager for your mission. It was one of my colleagues at the NSA that found the uranium enrichment plant and figured the timeline.”
“No way!” Payback reaches over Phoenix and gives your shoulder a shake. “That’s amazing! So did you know what Rooster was going to be doing or?”
You shake your head. “No. That part was outside of the scope of my work, but I knew he was headed back to North Island a couple days after I submitted my analysis. I took a few guesses from there.”
“It’s cool that you can have at least some perspective,” Payback says. “I know my girl’s been in the dark from the jump.”
You hum once. “I can’t imagine. I mean…” You think for a second. “I know enough to be very concerned, but not enough to ease it, you know? I’d almost rather not know anything at all.”
“I can see that,” Fanboy says. “Kind of a no-news-is-good-news-thing, yeah?”
“Exactly.”
“So what’d they tell you to get you out here?” Jake asks.
You grin at him. “My boss handed me a boarding pass, said Bradley wasn’t dead, and told me to thank you upon arrival.”
“Oh my god,” Phoenix says with a laugh. “I would have flipped out.”
“I did! I didn’t even pack - I just grabbed my overnight bag for late nights at the office and hauled my ass to Dulles.”
Jake grins. “Well, we’re sure glad you’re here.”
You throw a potato wedge at him.
+++
The boys whoop and holler when Maverick pulls up to The Henry with his bike and tosses you the helmet. You hop on, holding tight to Mav’s jacket. You can see his smile from over his shoulder as he waves to his students, his colleagues, his team.
You can absolutely see yourself, once again, as a member of Bradley’s extended family.
It feels good.
+++
“What’s the prognosis?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the bed. Bradley sits beside you, tying his boots.
The doctor smiles. “Nothing but probably terminal foolishness.” She checks his charts again before confirming. “No serious head trauma, just two small burns under his ear and on his forearm. Keep an eye on those for infection.” She flips some pages again. “If anything doesn’t feel quite right, Lt. Bradshaw, please give us a call.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Bradley stands. He offers his hand and she shakes it. “I appreciate your work and your thoroughness to keep me in good shape, ma’am.”
“Of course, Lieutenant.” She hands him a folder. “There are your discharge papers. You are good to go.” She looks at you. “Take some time to review that with Lt. Bradshaw as well, if he’s comfortable with that.”
“Absolutely, ma’am.” You look at Bradley, briefly, with a smile. “I’ll keep an eye on him”
+++
“Do you mind if we stop somewhere before going back to the hotel? It’s kind of a pain in the ass because it’s off the island, but…” You trail off.
Bradley shakes his head, his eyes on the road behind his sunglasses. “Not at all. Where to, m’lady?”
You almost feel back for bringing down the room. “Can we visit Ice? I haven’t gotten a chance to pay my respects yet.”
As expected, Bradley’s expression sobers. He kisses the back of your hand, bringing it up from where he holds it over the console. “Of course.”
He makes a couple of turns, hopping onto the bridge, then the highway before getting off to wind through the curving roads of Point Loma.
“Want to visit the lighthouse while we’re here? It’s a nice day. We could walk it.”
You nod. “That sounds nice.”
Bradley checks into base and parks, walking around the car to open your door and hold your hand as you get out. You don’t let go as you step onto the grass, letting him lead you to the gravesite of a man who was effectively another father and uncle to him.
From what he’s told you, both Iceman and Maverick stepped up after his father died, tag-teaming where they could. Maverick was around a little more, but Ice was there, unfailing, for every baseball game, piano recital, and ceremony. From what you saw, Bradley deeply admired and respected his father’s classmate, called him and his wife “Uncle Ice” and “Aunt Sarah,” and never went a week without a phone call.
Unlike Maverick, Ice was also there through college, OCS, and flight training. While you’re privately certain that Mav, Ice, and Carole collaborated on his Naval Academy sabotage back in 2004, Bradley’s always been firmly of the mind that it was all Maverick’s doing. It wasn’t your job to manage his anger or resentment, but it might be time for another conversation about that.
You reach the stone, easily recognizable by the new, bright, white finish. Bradley releases your hand, standing at attention when he reaches the stone, offering a crisp salute. He takes one deep breath before his hand drops from his forehead, slow and controlled.
THOMAS KAZANSKY
“ICEMAN”
ADMIRAL
UNITED STATES NAVY
COMMANDER OF U.S. PACIFIC FLEET
FLYING CROSS
BRONZE STAR
NOVEMBER 13TH, 1959 - DECEMBER 9TH, 2018
The two of you stand in silence for a little while. You’d known Ice well, spending holidays with his formidably-sized family once you and Bradley were established and attending various keynote speakers in your career contracted with the Navy. Before just now, you didn’t think you knew him well enough to deeply miss him, but your chest hurts.
“One thing about Ice,” Bradley told you, walking up the path to the big house on the hill, “is that he’s loyal. He’ll rain hell on anyone that threatens his family and always goes back for his wingman.”
“Did the cancer come back?”
Bradley shakes his head. “I didn’t ask. I figured though. Mav went to see him a couple of days before he died.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, baby.”
“Me too.” He takes you under his arm. “He loved you, you know. He always gave me shit for keeping you on the hook without a ring.”
“I cannot believe you have not asked that young lady to marry you, yet,” Ice says, sitting down behind his desk and steepling his fingers.
Bradley sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just haven’t found the right moment.”
“I know.” Ice smiles at him. “If you keep with that attitude, you’ll never find the right one. What’s it been, now? Six, seven years?” He tips his head. “You better hope she doesn’t wise up to your bullshit.”
“I know.” Bradley sits down on the couch under the bay window. “I just want to do it right.”
Ice stands, crossing the room to join Bradley with a pat on the knee. “I tried to make it perfect for Sarah, but at the end of the day, it’s just for you two. It doesn’t have to be right, it doesn't have to be exactly as you or she pictured it.”
Bradley watches him remember, the softness of his face, the fondness in his eyes. It makes him smile.
“All that ring does,” Ice continues, “is show her you love her and want to be stuck with her until you die.”
“It sounds so romantic when you say it like that,” Bradley laughs.
Ice shrugs good-naturedly. “Word on the street is your dad hopped out of a plane on his first training mission, dropped to his knee, and proposed to your mother on the spot.”
He’s right. Carole told Bradley about it.
“Thanks, Ice.”
“Of course, son. I’ll always be here for you. You know that.”
You laugh, smiling at the stone. “And here you are, flaunting him even in death.”
Bradley kisses your temple.
+++
On your way to the lighthouse, the wind picks up, buffeting into you. Bradley releases your hand, pulling you close with an arm around your shoulders.
There aren’t many people out, so the walk is relatively quiet.
“Y’know, honey, I was thinking,” you start, staring at the path under your feet as you continue along. You hesitate. “I’m not sure how to say this diplomatically.”
You can almost hear Bradley raise his eyebrows. “I thought we were past diplomacy.”
“I know, it’s just…It’s about your mom.”
Bradley steers you off the path and to a bench conveniently placed on the grass, facing the ocean. He sits down, angling his body toward you and his arm extended, fingers brushing against your shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking about what you said - about Maverick pulling your papers. And I know I don’t know him like you do, but -” You cut yourself off. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to…take initiative like that.”
Bradley’s eyes wander to the grass, then out to sea. He’s obviously considering what you said, but you’re not sure if he’s going where you’re leading him.
“I just -” You take another breath. “I don’t think I would want my kid in an F-35 if I lost my husband in an F-14, you know?”
Bradley’s brow furrows.
“I think you should at least ask him about it. He doesn’t strike me as the type to overstep in that direction on his own, he does seem like the type who would protect your relationship with your remaining parent, especially if he still feels responsible for your dad.”
You reach for him and he comes back to you, holding you close as you scoot over and rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart.
“Yeah,” he says, finally. “I’ll ask him about it.”
+++
Dagger Fuckheads
Jake Seresin
2:41pm Dinner tonight? Mav’s buying.
You and Bradley look at each other, reaching for your phones.
“Want to go?” He asks.
You nod. “I could go. I don’t have anything better to do.”
Bradley replies. 2:43pm Chims and I are in! Where and when?
Jake Seresin
2:43pm Mav says dinner at his place at 1800 and then drinks at Penny’s when we’re done.
“Sounds good to me. What about you?” Bradley asks.
You nod and reply to confirm. 2:44pm We’re there!
+++
“So, Mav,” Phoenix says, putting down her fork. “When do we get to go out to the desert and see your P-51?”
Maverick smiles. “You’re all welcome anytime. I’m headed out there this weekend.”
“No way!” Fanboy says. “You have a mustang out there?”
“Hell yeah,” Maverick says. “You can fly it if you promise to take care of her.”
All the lieutenants share a glance. Hangman finally confirms, “We’re in.”
+++
You sense, rather than hear, Maverick come up behind you as you stare at the photos above the sink. There’s one of Penny, tucked behind a photo of Carole and Goose. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five, smiling at you from out of the Polaroid. There’s another Polaroid of her nearby, a much-younger Maverick kissing her cheek outside one of the buildings at Miramar.
You reach out to another photo, gently brushing over the image of Iceman grinning at the camera in his dress whites and sunglasses. Maverick stands beside him, an equally bright smile on his face.
“That was Ice’s wedding,” Mav says.
You hum. “I’ve seen this picture before. It’s on - or…” You pause. “At least, uh, it was on his desk at home.”
Maverick steps up beside you, pointing out photos of Bradley and Ice you’d missed before. Your favorite, by far, is one of Ice hitting a baseball and Bradley ducking on the pitcher’s mound to avoid impact.
“After Bradley and I were firmly an item, we spent every Christmas with Ice and Sarah,” you tell him, unprompted.
“I know,” Mav says simply. “He loved having you both there.”
You smile. “He spoke so highly of you, Mav. He would always tell stories that ended with one of you heroically saving the day.”
Maverick has to smile at that. His eyes wander to a photo taken after one of their many missions together, Ice’s hair wild from his helmet.
“I know that he tried to honor and respect Bradley’s anger, of course, but I know cutting you off hurt him, too.” You smile a little. “I think he knew that hearing his stories about you made it a little harder to dislike you. I think he figured I needed something else to round out what Bradley told me.”
“There was one time,” Ice recalls, “when Bradley was little, that I thought Maverick had truly gone insane.”
“Oh?” You ask. It’s not rare to hear stories with and about Maverick, but they’re usually of the heroic-endeavors variety, rather than stories of Bradley’s childhood.
The two of you sit out on the porch, watching the sunset. Bradley, of course, is in assisting Sarah with dinner. You offered your help, as did Ice, but Sarah practically kicked you out, claiming, “While you’re both nice to look at, you’re in the way.”
“Mav volunteered to be the coach of Bradley’s little league team.” Ice shakes his head. “I’d never seen him throw himself into something like that. Carole had to tell him to tone it down.” Ice pauses. “Bradley was a helluva ballplayer though. He’s always been patient, attentive. Good qualities for everything, but especially baseball and flying.”
Ice looks over his shoulder, satisfied that you’re alone. “The two of them are more alike than they’d like to admit.” He looks at you. “I was about to say, I wish you could know him. However, knowing me and knowing Bradley tells you more about him than he’d ever like anyone to know, for better or worse.”
Maverick looks at you for a second. “Can I show you something?”
You nod, dragging your eyes from the photo. Mav takes you to the corner, where a cup full of challenge coins sits on the counter. He pulls a frame from the shelf, bringing a photo down from its place.
To your shock, it’s a photo of you and Bradley graduating from UVA. Your matching orange stoles stand out brightly against your black gowns and the green grass behind you.
Bradley holds you close to his side, kissing your temple as you look at the camera with a smile.
“Sarah took this one, didn’t she?” You ask, looking over at Maverick. You remember the moment well, but it’s only now you realize you’ve never seen the picture before. Your eyes fall on pictures of Bradley through the years - his high school baseball photos, his NROTC and college graduation portraits, Bradley and Ice standing together at Bradley’s OCS commencement…
He always looked out for him. All these years.
Maverick replies, pulling you from your thoughts. “She sent me a copy. I have a couple more from Christmases, too. You landed in the New Years’ newsletter more than once.”
“Wait a second.”
You turn around, finding Jake squinting at another photo on the shelf.
He points to one “Is this you?”
You walk over, brow furrowed. Lo and behold, it’s a Kazansky Christmas card, dated 2010. You sit on the arm of the sofa next to Bradley, mirrored by Ice’s daughter on the other side. The two Kazansky boys take the other two seats on the couch, their now-wives seated on the ground in front of them, forming a cozy picture with Ice and Sarah behind you all.
“Yep, that’s me,” you tell him. “That was when I was in my masters and Bradley was in OCS.”
It’s like you aren’t even there as Hangman calls over his shoulder. “Rooster!”
“Yeah?” Bradley trots over, meeting your eyes with a questioning glance. You shrug. Maverick joins you, standing at your side with his arms crossed and a funny little look on his face.
“How long have you guys been together, exactly?” Hangman asks, a grin blossoming on his face.
Bradley knows he’s already in trouble. “Well,” he answers diplomatically. “If you ask me, we started dating in February of 2005. If you ask her,” he points at you, “we started dating in August of 2005.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong-“
He’s not going to be wrong, is he?
“- but that’s thirteen years.”
Bradley’s hand rises to his neck. “Yeah.”
Hangman turns to you. “Jesus Christ you’re either a saint or an idiot and I can’t decide which.”
“We’ve been busy!” Your voice sounds shrill and defense even to your ears.
“For thirteen years straight?” Hangman doesn’t wait for an answer before moving on. “Hey, Siri!” There’s a series of beeps from his phone, connected to Mav’s speaker. “Play Slow Ride by Foghat.”
You bite back your laugh as Jake turns around again with a wicked grin.
“God, I love this song.”
+++
“Ready, baby?” Rooster’s voice rumbles in your ears through the headphones.
You turn on your mic. “Let’s go!”
“Alright. Hang on tight.”
The P-51 accelerates down the runway and Bradley hauls it into the air, the Gs pressing you into the seat.
“How many Gs can this thing pull?”
You can almost see his smile from behind as he answers you with a laugh, adjusting one of the countless switches and knobs in front of him. “Not enough.”
“That doesn't answer my question!” It takes a little more effort to get the words out with the pressure on your chest, but you know it’s nothing compared to the F-18.
As expected, Bradley’s voice is still even and cool through the mic. “It tops out around six or seven. We’re only pulling three and a half right now, but it’ll ease up in a second. Take a deep breath.”
You follow instructions, letting your head and body press into the seat as you close your eyes. You remember how he taught you to breathe years ago when you felt like you were suffocating in broad daylight in a Cessna.
The plane levels out and you already feel better, taking one more deep breath before opening your eyes.
“Oh my god.”
You’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down on Death Valley and the surrounding desert.
“Beautiful, right?” Bradley asks. “Ready?”
“For what?”
You don’t get a response, but let out a yelp as you go inverted, flying upside down a mile over the brown hills and bright orange California poppies.
“Relax,” he says with a laugh. “Enjoy the view.”
It’s a strange feeling, to be looking up and down at the same time. It is, however, easy to see how this feeling can be addictive. Even at relatively low speeds, you feel alive with the plane’s frame around, Bradley’s gentle hands holding you all aloft.
Bradley glides into a loop, correcting the inversion with ease. You let yourself relax again, looking out the canopy to find where the mountains meet the sky. The plane arcs in a wide circle, headed back to the hangar.
“I can see why you love this so much,” you tell him.
He reaches back with one hand and you take it. He squeezes once before letting you go. “Happy you’re here with me, baby.”
When you get back to Maverick’s place, you notice Bradley looking down at the runway. You follow suit, finding Dagger Squad standing just outside the hangar. You can’t quite see details from up here, but it looks like they’re watching you.
“Hey, babe?” You ask.
Bradley’s head tilts a bit. “Yeah?”
“I think you should remind them why you’re Dagger Two.”
You can see him, but you’re sure he’s grinning. You can hear it. “Alright. Hang tight, honey.”
Bradley’s hand flies forward on the throttle and you’re pressed back into your seat with a laugh. He swoops down over the hills, taking a hard bank before climbing high and barrel-rolling twice.
You can’t stop laughing, only losing your breath once or maybe three times. He pulls a few more maneuvers that have your stomach twisting and dropping. The sound of his trained, measured breath in your ears keeps you glued to time and space.
He gets back to wings-level and checks in with you. “You still with me back there?”
You swallow, laughing a little again. “I’m good.”
“I owe Mav some fuel, but that was fun.” He banks again, gentler this time, and starts the descent down to the runway. The landing is smooth, hardly jostling you as you settle back on the ground. When the canopy opens, Bradley stands and gets out, holding his hand out to lend you an assist.
You feel a little wobbly when you get your feet on the asphalt again, but Bradley grabs you around the waist, pulling you close. He’s somehow already removed his helmet and lends a hand with yours.
Dagger Squad rushes the two of you and Jake claps you on the shoulder. “I thought for sure you were gonna puke.”
“Thanks for your overwhelming vote of confidence.”
Bradley’s still grinning from ear to ear. Mav saunters out of the hangar with a smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “Not too bad for a rookie,” he says.
“Pretty sure they’ll revoke that thing once you get your AARP card. Flying’s dangerous, you know.”
Maverick frowns and checks over his shoulder, looking left, then right.
“What’re you lookin’ at, Mav?” Bob asks.
Mav looks at Bradley. “I’m trying to find who the hell Rooster thinks he’s talking to.”
Bradley grins and throws his helmet at Mav, who catches it easily. “It is a sweet ride, though.”
+++
“Hey Bradley, let me get your help with this,” Maverick calls from across the hangar.
Bradley stands, setting his beer down on the little coffee table. “‘Scuse me, folks. I’ve been summoned.”
“Hey, excuse me, sir, there’s a tax for that,” you remind him, looking up from your seat in the armchair.
With a smile, he gives you a quick kiss and jets off to find Mav in the back.
Jake scoffs.
You look at him. “Can I help you?”
“Y’all are gross.”
With a sigh, you shift in your seat, leaning forward to condescendingly place a hand on his knee. “One day, Jake, you will love someone who misses you when you’re gone and you, too, will be gross.”
Bradley looks over his shoulder before he reaches the archway to Mav’s back “office.” The image of you sitting with his team, chatting like you’ve known each other all your lives, warms his heart.
“Bradley?” Mav calls quieter than before.
Bradley finally rounds the corner, grabbing the arch and swinging wide through the turn. “Yessir.”
Mav holds up a first-class box and grins. “I think it’s here.”
The two of them open the box, trying to keep the noise of the bubble wrap to a dull roar. Inside, the small, navy-blue velvet box smiles up at them, nestled deep in the packaging.
“Can I see?” Mav asks.
Bradley nods.
With similar care to a father holding his newborn for the first time, Maverick takes the box into his hand and opens it with the smallest of worn pops.
There’s silence for a moment, followed by a swell of laughter from the hangar.
“It’s beautiful, Brad. She’s going to love it.”
Bradley tips his head. “I hope so.” He pauses. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” Maverick meets his eyes, open and receptive.
“Was it your idea to pull my papers?”
Maverick sighs, looking down for a second before returning Bradley’s steady gaze. That’s pretty much all the answer Bradley needs, but still Maverick says, “Yes. It was my idea.”
He’s always been a shit liar.
“My mom asked you to do it, didn’t she?”
Mav’s jaw flexes.
“Pete,” Carole says, looking at him from the couch. She leans forward and Maverick mirrors her, the use of his first name somewhat unsettling. He glances at the clock. Bradley’s at baseball practice for another hour or so, at least.
“Yeah?”
“I got some bad news today.”
Maverick’s heart drops to his stomach and he immediately stands to cross the room, sitting next to her on the couch.
She continues, taking his hand. “I’m sick. They’re sure it’s some kind of cancer but they’re doing some more tests. I have to go back tomorrow for a PET scan. They do know it’s serious.”
Tears, unbidden, jump into Maverick’s eyes. He can’t speak.
“Oh, Mav.” Carole cups his face with her ever-gentle hands. “Mav, it’ll be okay.”
He clears his throat. “Do they have any ideas about… treatments, or…?”
She shrugs, looking off somewhere across the room. “They’ll know more after this week. The doctor told me it could be months, maybe years, but he determined that it is terminal.”
A set of tears fall down Maverick’s cheeks, dripping gracelessly off his chin.
With a sigh, she adds, “I would really like to see Bradley graduate from college, but... Speaking of…” She trails off.
The muscle in Mav’s jaw jumps several times before he speaks again. “What can I do?”
“Bradley applied to the Naval Academy,” she replies, shaking her head. “I can’t - I can’t have him in a jet, Maverick. I won’t do it.”
“Carole, he’s an -”
“Don’t tell me he’s an adult, Pete. Look at him.” She throws a hand to the most recent school portrait on the mantle. “He’s not ready and I’ll never be ready.”
Again, Mav asks, “What can I do.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Can you talk to admissions?”
“Carole, I -”
“Promise me, Mav. I know Ice can do it if you can’t, and I’ll ask him next.”
Something cold settles into Maverick’s veins. He’s fairly certain it’s fear. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
Carole surprises him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “I might be dying, but he - I won’t let him kill himself.”
“Do you think I’m killing myself?” Mav asks, only half-joking. He holds her tight as if she’ll break apart if he lets go. Maybe it’s him who needs to be held together.
She takes him seriously. “Every goddamn day. And I hate you for it.” She leans back. “But as much as I love you, he’s my son. I need you to take care of him when I’m gone.”
Maverick realizes he’s been quiet for too long. He thinks of Penny, what she would do if Amelia asked him a question like this.
She’d tell the truth.
“Carole, she…” Mav sighs, looking over his shoulder at a photo of the three of them at some function or another. “She made me promise. The same time she told me she was sick.”
Bradley takes a deep breath before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t - I couldn’t have you hate her, too.”
Strangely, that pulls a smile from him. You were right.
“What?” Mav asks.
Bradley shakes his head. He looks over his shoulder for a second, finding only a wall but knowing you’re beyond it. “Someone who’s only known you a sum total of ten hours knows you better than I do, apparently.”
Maverick smiles, clapping Bradley on the shoulder. “They’re all smarter than us, you know. Sooner you figure that out, the easier it’ll be.”
+++
Penny sits at the bar, working through the inventory and accounting for the week by hand. It’s easier this way, she tends to rationalize, but really it’s just a good excuse to get her away from her laptop.
Checking over her shoulder, she finds the ocean rough, white caps popping on the top of the waves. The sky is thick with clouds, giving the entire world a greyish-blue cast. As much as she loves the sunshine, a winter Southern California storm feels good to the bones.
Before she can get up to either close the back door or find a jacket, there’s a hand on her waist.
“Chilly?”
She turns, finding Maverick behind her. He drapes his soft, warm bomber jacket around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head.
“I’ll be in the back. Just wanted to check on you.”
She hums, leaning into him. “I’ll be here.”
He gives her one final kiss before he disappears again, probably fixing a leak or patching a hole she failed to notice.
He sees everything .
It’s alarming, sometimes.
She checks her watch but it’s pointless. She’s not sure when you and Bradley are due in from your afternoon out in La Jolla, but she’s sure she’ll get an ETA when you’re good and ready to share.
The front door opens and closes. Penny doesn’t bother to look up - there are only five people who walk in casually like that and two of them work here.
“Penny?”
That’s not one of the four .
She looks up, finding the eyes of her ex-husband. “What are you doing here?” She pulls the jacket closer to her, almost like armor.
“Can’t I just stop by and say hello?” He asks.
“...It’s a five-hour flight from Hawaii,” she says. “And dropping in unexpectedly kind of defeats the purpose of a divorce, if I’m remembering correctly. Where’s your wife?”
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he says as if she didn’t say a word. That was half of the problem when they were married. Penny’s not sure why she thought it would change now.
“Penny, sweetheart?”
Mav’s voice almost startles her, but a wave of relief follows close behind the bolt of adrenaline.
“Bradley’s due in anytime now. They just called from the -” Mav finally steps out of the back room and spots the visitor in the bar. “Hi.”
Penny hastily stands and introduces them to each other.
“Wait,” the unwelcome guest says, “you’re Pete Mitchell? Maverick Mitchell?”
Mav smiles, but only friends would know it's not a real one. This is the one he wears for show. “That’s me.”
“Huh. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The way he says it doesn’t sound like a compliment. “I thought you’d be taller.” He shakes off another thought and asks, “Where’s Amelia?”
Your daughter, the afterthought , Penny thinks sourly. “She’s -”
“Anybody home?” Bradley crows, interrupting from the doorway, a grin on his face. You’re right behind him, trying to get in as he purposefully blocks the door.
Through your laughter, you cry, “Penny, help! I’ve been taken hostage.”
Despite the stress of the moment, that gets a smile out of her. “Let her in Rooster.”
The two of you shove your way through the door, landing with your arm around Bradley’s neck as he half-carries, half-drags you across the plank flooring. The smile falls from Bradley’s face when he sees the unfamiliar person in the room, putting you down behind him. “Who’s this?”
“Sam Longbourn,” comes the introduction. Sam extends a hand
“Rooster,” Bradley replies. You shoot him a look. He hardly ever introduces himself with his callsign alone.
Men.
You shake Sam’s hand as well, but he doesn’t ask your name. You don’t offer it.
Bradley’s chin lifts a touch. “Longbourn? Isn’t that -”
“Amelia’s last name?” Penny finishes. “Yes.”
Bradley hums once, staccato. “Imagine that.” He slips past Maverick, placing a hand over the big patch between Penny’s shoulder, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek by way of greeting. “Want me to take a look at those books?”
“Sure,” she says, trying to be casual.
You just think it’s funny that all three men in the room have immediately started preening upon recognition. Only two are succeeding.
There’s an awkward pause. You offer a tight, polite smile and join Bradley at the bar, leaning on him.
“And Bradley is…?” Sam asks.
Mav answers promptly. “My son. He’s a naval aviator as well. One of the best we’ve got.”
The pencil in Bradley’s hand stops moving for the briefest of seconds. You glance at his profile without moving your head too much to see him blinking a few times in quick succession.
You lean into him a little more purposefully and he leans back. Taking a quick look over at the uncomfortable little triad, you catch Penny’s eyes.
Was that okay? She seems to ask.
You take a deep breath. I dunno.
Amelia’s father ends up taking a seat at the bar, absolutely overstaying his welcome. You stand, grabbing a rag from behind the bar and attempting to make yourself useful.
“Can I get you anything?” You ask.
He raises his eyebrows. “You work here?”
“Nope. Just like to help Penny when I can. And she’s busy, so…” You shrug.
He takes a second. “I’ll do a Miller Lite, if she’s got it.”
Bradley covers his snort with a cough into his elbow. You can’t help but agree.
Fly five hours from Hawaii only to come to a bar and order a Miller Lite. Shameful.
You find one under the bar and open it, setting the bottle down in front of him. Penny comes back, squeezing your upper arms fondly as she slides in behind you. She approaches her ex, leaning against the bar on the heels of her hands.
“Look, we’re about to open up and it’s gonna get crowded. You better say what you want to say.”
You sneak back around to Bradley, helping him organize the binder the way Penny likes it, packing up and getting ready for opening. You’re all gonna have backup here in a moment - Dagger’s due in anytime now. In the weeks they’ve been here, they’ve all grown particularly fond of Penny and Amelia. Jake, especially with his two-year shore duty at North Island after Annapolis, is more at home here than anywhere else. You can’t imagine them taking too kindly to an interloper.
You and Bradley head to the back while Penny and Sam talk. Mav’s there, already straightening up from his project along the south wall.
“I’m so sorry, Bradley. I didn’t mean to overst-”
Bradley waves him off and pulls him in for a hug. “All good. I get it.” He says something else, but you can’t quite catch it.
Doesn’t matter, anyway. You heard enough to know that Carole was right.
“They’ll figure it out,” she used to say. “Bradshaws and Mitchells always find a way, especially together.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” comes a booming voice from the great room, “the party has arrived.”
With a roll of your eyes, you jump out of the back room with a grin. “Damn, they let just about anyone in here, huh?”
“Well, yeah,” Jake says. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Uh uh. No,” Penny scolds, pointing at Jake. “Behave.”
Jake grins at her, wide and toothy. With a roll of her eyes, she throws a bottle opener on the bar, followed by a bottle of his usual brew. “Thank you, Miss Penny m’dear.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Keep that up and I’ll ring the bell on you.”
He chuffs. “You love me.”
“I don’t,” she insists, laughter in her eyes.
Bradley and Maverick join you, headed to the pool table to rack up. You find a seat at one of the tables, ready to watch whatever masculine posturing bullshit the boys have up their sleeve.
Jake, as if noticing the unfamiliar face for the first time, looks over and raises his eyebrows. It’s all for show - you know he clocked Sam the second he saw him. He doesn’t break eye contact when he asks, “Who’s this?”
Penny gestures between them. “Sam Longbourn, Hangman. Hangman, Sam.”
Jake squints. “Hm. I’d say it's nice to meet you, Sam, but I’m not sure it is.” He grins, softening the blow, before turning to Penny. “Wait, lemme see that patch.”
Penny turns, pulling the jacket so Jake can see the patch that’s always been there.
“Mav,” Jake asks, raising his voice. “Is this a new patch?”
Smooth .
“Nope. It’s been there for a minute. I’m having a patch made for Dagger, though. Should be in before they scatter us again.”
“Sweet. Guess I never noticed it before.” Jake’s smile grows sly. “I guess it just looks better on Penny than it does on you.”
Maverick snorts and says something that has Bradley laughing out loud.
Sam, for the first time, looks a little self-conscious. Jake doesn’t seem to notice, pointing out the rest of the team, hovering around the pool table. “That’s Phoenix, Bob, and Payback. Mav’s a legend of course, and Rooster’s just been named Wingman of the Year.”
“Yeah, and you’re what, our Lord and Savior?” Bradley says.
“You said it, not me,” Jake says, that grin back on his face.
Poor Sam has turned into a ghost at this point, looking between everyone present with increasing confusion and awe.
Rooster rolls his eyes, leaning over the pool table, his break shot sinking two. He beckons you over. “C’mon baby, we’ve got stripes.”
Mav straightens and looks across the bar, watching Penny idly organize glasses. She turns, meets Maverick’s eyes, and leaves the bar with a shake of her head. “Shall we show them how it’s done, Mav?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
+++
“Hey, Mav!” Bradley calls, later that night. “C’mere.”
Mav obliges, making his way around to Bradley’s side and leaning against the piano. Penny’s ex seems to have disappeared as quickly as he arrived. You didn’t even see him leave, but between Jake and Mav, you’re sure he had enough.
Good riddance.
“Take a look over there.” Bradley points with the neck of his bottle to you and Penny, sitting on a pair of barstools, chatting amongst the evening rush. “What do you see?”
Mav thinks for a second. “...People we care about?”
“Yeah. See anything wrong with them?”
There’s a creeping sense of deja-vu, but Maverick can’t quite place it. He looks again. You have Bradley’s sunglasses stuck into the front of your shirt and you’re babysitting a small pile of coats in your lap - Payback, Fanboy, and Hangman’s, to be specific - but nothing looks out of the ordinary. Penny looks great, of course, Maverick’s leather jacket still slung casually over her shoulders.
Bradley’s definitely up to something. Mav, after his assessment, says, “...I’m not seeing anything.”
“I think…I think they’ve lost that loving feeling, Mav.”
Mav laughs, his chin falling to his chest. “I’m too old for this shit, Rooster.”
“What are you too old for?” Jake asks, arriving seemingly out of nowhere.
“Hangman, I think the girls have lost that lovin’ feeling.”
Jake shakes his head, a confused little smile on his face. “What?”
“C’mon, Mav. Back me up here. They definitely have lost that loving feeling.”
Mav sighs. “I hate it when they do that.” He pushes off the piano and throws two quarters in the jukebox. “You’re gonna have to help them find it after this song, you know. Patience is a virtue.”
As promised, as soon as the song comes on over the bar, Penny’s head shoots up, her eyes wide. If you had to name it, you would call the look repeat trauma .
“What?” You ask, but you already hear it.
“You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…”
Her only reply? An exhausted, “Oh, God.”
“And there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips.”
The crowd parts and your jaw drops. Bradley is serenading you at the top of his lungs, his hand extended dramatically toward you.
“ You’re trying hard not to show it, but baby, baby I know it,” He sings. “ You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling. Whoa, that lovin’ feeling.”
You cover your face with your hands as he continues, the rest of the crowd joining in. Penny’s laughing in earnest, happy for once she’s not the victim of this stupid charade.
The chorus ends and you look at Bradley, gesturing to the empty seat beside you. “Sit down, you idiot.”
The entire bar cheers.
Penny looks up, finding Mav still at his place near the piano. He meets her eyes and smiles.
+++
“Is that mine?”
You’ve just stepped out of the bathroom when Bradley looks over at you skeptically, his eyes running across your shoulders and down to your waist.
You are, in fact, wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts. However, in your defense, he has way too many (you’d approximate three dozen) and he’s never bothered to ask about any that have gone mysteriously missing (of which there are about eight).
You hesitate just a second too long. “…No.” It sounds an awful lot like a question.
“I think it is,” he says, leaving his bag and sauntering over to you from across the room.
You shake your head. “Nope. I got this one in Hawaii while I was visiting you a few years back, remember?” You double down, knowing your efforts are futile.
“I think,” he says, finally reaching you and dipping down to kiss your neck, “this is my shirt. I also think,” he adds, his lips trailing to your collarbone and his hands wandering over your back pockets, “that you stole it from me in Hawaii while you were visiting a few years back.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Your assertion is breathless at best.
He shakes his head. “You’re a thief.”
“Am not.”
“Are too,” he whispers, kissing you under your ear. “And before you can continue to argue with me, I have a question for you.”
“Oh?” you ask with a laugh. “Is it shirt-related?”
“No.”
He kisses your cheek and gracefully slides to a knee at your feet. He pulls the small box out of his back pocket and you’re pretty sure you can’t breathe.
“It’s past time, beautiful, and there’s a lot I could say but…” He opens it and the image of the ring nestled in navy blue velvet steals your breath. “Will you marry me?”
You definitely can’t breathe, so you settle for a nod, finally able to pull a breath after a second. “Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
He stands and wraps you in his arms, the box still in his hands.
+++
The wood plank flooring feels cool under your feet, despite the San Diego summer waiting for you just outside the door. Penny picks up the hem of your dress, letting it flutter loosely to the floor so you don’t trip.
“You’re still good barefoot? I’ve got your sandals here if you need them.”
You nod. “It shouldn’t be too hot.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll have Mav take them out when he goes back.”
There’s an awful lot of movement for the final moments before a wedding. The boys are goofing around outside in their summer whites while Penny and Maverick fuss between you, Bradley, and the bar.
Penny picks up the sandals in question, snagging Mav by the sleeve as he passes her. “Take these out and put them under your seat.”
He looks confused and almost makes the mistake of asking a question but shakes his head, taking the sandals and kissing Penny’s cheek without another word. He hops out the back door and down the steps, hastily making his way to his seat to drop off the shoes.
The little lattice arch sits on the sand about thirty feet from the back patio of The Hard Deck. You peer out the window from where you stand by the piano, seeing Bradley approach Mav with a concerned little pinch in his eyebrows. You know you’re running late, but after all this time he knows better than to really worry.
Mav clasps his shoulder briefly with a wide smile before dusting imaginary debris from his uniform. Bradley returns the favor, straightening the ribbons on his chest. You step back as Mav looks through the back door, staying out of sight.
With a deep breath, you nod at Penny. She hands you the bouquet and heads outside, calling in your wedding party from their shenanigans and giving the rest of the assembled company the cue to take their seats.
Phoenix reaches you first, giving you a hug. “You excited?”
You nod. “Very.”
“It’s gonna be so fun.”
Jake winks at you as he offers Phoenix his arm, taking his cover under his other elbow. “He’s freaking out.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s ecstatic,” Payback says, smiling at Amelia in her blue bridesmaid dress. “May I, miss?”
You’re sure she’s blushing when she nods and tucks her hand into his elbow. Penny smiles, kissing your cheek before giving the same treatment to Amelia’s head. She gives Payback a quick pat on the shoulder for good measure and then she’s gone - jogging barefoot to her seat.
Everyone else gets settled and you’re ready.
+++
You look up from the sand, finally, to see Rooster standing before the water in his summer dress whites. His uniform and his smile are equally blinding. You almost have to squint to look at him directly. The smile on your face, though, could give him a run for his money.
The wind off the water whips around your face and pulls at the skirt of your dress. You let your eyes wander down the short line of crisply-dressed aviators that just left you in the bar. Hangman, Bob, Coyote, and Payback grin back at you behind their sunglasses when you smile at all of them in turn.
Maverick and Penny, of course, stand in the front row beside the empty seats reserved for Bradley’s parents and Iceman. Sarah and Ice’s oldest son stand on the far side. Your closest friends and family fill the remaining seats. There’s not a person out of place and everything is just as you pictured it when you sketched out the quick plans in Maverick’s desert hanger five months ago.
After what feels like an hour, you finally reach Bradley at the end of the aisle. He take your hand and you walk the final few steps to the officiant together, passing your bouquet to Phoenix.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Lieutenant.”
He squeezes your hand.
+++
You practically wilt into the bar when the jukebox falls silent. With a laugh, you look up and see Penny’s rueful smile. The inside of the place has gone wild, most of the respectable family out on the patio enjoying some degree of peace and quiet while the “kids” have fun inside.
“They’re predictable, aren’t they?” Penny asks.
You nod. “Terminally, I’m afraid.”
She grins at you. “Go play. I’ve got your drink.”
A path opens for you as you make your way to the piano. Bradley’s warming up with a few riffs, but you know what he’s going to play before he even starts.
“ You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”
The entire bar eggs him on, some starting to sing along already. You let out a loud laugh, almost warning him you’re there before he can look.
“… You broke my will, oh what a thrill. Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”
He opens an arm so you can settle into his lap without a break in the music. You lean into him, giving him more room to play. You catch Mav’s eye as he settles next to Penny at the bar, a pint in his hand.
“ Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”
You know exactly what he sees - how strange and difficult it must be. You smile at him before turning, sliding an arm around Bradley’s shoulder.
“ Kiss me baby -”
On cue, you wrap your other arm around Bradley's neck and plant a downright filthy kiss that has the entire crowd whooping and hollering.
“ Woo, that feels good, baby. Hold me, baby… ”
You stay tucked up against him, singing along, crowing the lyrics to the ceiling, and losing your breath to laughter.
At the bar, Maverick is indeed seeing double. He sees what’s in front of him - his nephew playing an old song on the piano with the love of his life in his lap - and what’s behind him - Carole and Goose, laughing through their own wedding reception over 35 years ago.
“You okay there, Captain?”
Mav looks over at Penny with raised eyebrows as she leaves her place behind the bar. “Hm?”
She reaches him, raking her fingers through the graying hair at his temples. “Just asking if you’re alright.”
Pete catches her hand and kisses the back of it. “Fine. Just, ah…”
“Remembering?” She offers.
He hums. “That, and I’m… getting old, I guess.” His eyes wander back to you and Rooster at the piano.
Penny nods, checking on Amelia over her shoulder. She and Phoenix are at the pool table, actively hustling Coyote out of a hundred bucks. “We all are, Pete. You’re not special.” There’s no heat in her teasing - only affection.
“You know I love it when you tell me I’m just like everyone else,” Mav replies playfully.
Penny hums facetiously. “You are in fact, the most average man I’ve ever met.”
“Hmm…” Maverick wets his lips and studies her from top to toe. “That’s definitely not what you said last ni-”
“Mom?”
Penny smacks her hand over Maverick’s mouth and leans over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Coyote says there’s house rules to pool.”
With an affectionate brush of her thumb over his lips, Penny releases Maverick. “Oh, no. Absolutely not. Not in this house.” She raises her voice over the crowd noise. “We play by the book here, Machado.”
“Yes ma’am!” Comes the reply.
“Is that really true, though?” Mav asks.
Penny scoffs. “If it were, would you listen?”
He just grins at her. It’s all the answer she needs.
+++
Something slow and sweet plays on the speakers. Your head rests heavily on Bradley, whose hand covers yours on his chest. Your eyes are closed, swaying to the barest suggestion of the actual beat.
“When will you be back?”
Bradley sighs into the phone. “I don’t know. Sweetheart, this…This might be one of those missions where someone isn’t coming home.”
You sink to the floor, legs crossed. “Bradley, I -” You swallow heavily. “You better come home.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You always do,” you tell him. “I need you to do better.”
There’s silence.
Eventually, Bradley says, “I love you.”
“I love you, too. So much.” It doesn’t, surprisingly, sound like goodbye.
“I’ll text you when I’m on deck and I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”
Your voice is a whisper when it leaves you. “Okay. Fly safe.”
Having him back never loses its novelty.
Mav and Penny look much the same on the other side of the floor, speaking quietly and giggling like a pair of teenagers.
Amelia is fast asleep on one of the chairs, Maverick’s leather jacket serving dutifully as her blanket. She crashed against Reuben about an hour ago and he found a place for her to rest somewhat peacefully after a little while. She is, after all, no stranger to falling asleep at The Hard Deck; it’s become her second home.
The remaining members of Dagger Squad - Jake, Natasha, Reuben, and Bob - sit sprawled out in chairs, watching the two couples left standing on the dance floor.
“Figure we should tell ‘em the party’s over?” Payback says.
Tasha shakes her head. “Leave them alone. Look at them.”
Their eyes bounce from you and Bradley to Penny and Maverick, varying degrees of small smiles on their faces.
“Hey, Phoenix, you think -” Jake doesn’t get to finish.
“I’m gonna stop you there,” Tasha says.
He scoffs. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I do, in fact.”
“Alright, enlighten me.”
Reuben and Bob roll their eyes, both suddenly and violently reminded that this bullshit will make up at least a quarter of their careers, at this rate.
“You were either going to make a joke about dancing with me or reference someone’s sex life. Neither one of those options are ones I’m interested in.”
“You flatter yourself.”
“Am I wrong?” She raises her eyebrows.
Jake rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his beer, muttering into it, “No.”
+++
“Can you see him?” Amelia asks, standing on her toes to see around the people in front of her.
Penny snorts. “They’re all in their whites. You won’t be able to tell who’s who until they’re off the carrier, love.”
She humphs. Mav places a hand on Amelia’s shoulder.
“It won’t be long now,” he says. “
You take a deep breath, enjoying the sunshine on your face and the breeze of the water. Thousands of families surround you, including the Fitches, Traces, and Seresins. Jake’s mom, you’ve recently learned, is a total sweetheart.
“Your son,” you told her upon meeting, “is a huge pain in my ass and I love him so much.”
She’d only laughed. “Tell me about it.”
Now, you’re all standing together waiting for the carrier to finally dock. It’s been six months, all of them long. You can’t wait to have Bradley back.
Turning, you ask Mav, “When are Fanboy and Bob due back?”
“They’re due into Ft. Lauderdale in a couple of months. I think they got stuck in the Med again.”
You pull a face. “That sucks.”
He shrugs. “It is what it is.”
That should be the tagline for all US Armed Forces.
The final minutes seem to last forever before a bunch of sailors seems to tumble out of the carrier, walking briskly to the assembled families. Like a dam breaking, they start to run as people rush forward into the arms of their loved ones.
You use Mav’s shoulder for leverage, trying to see. Your eyes land on a small group and four smiles greet you.
“I’ve got them!” You call. “They’re on their way.”
It takes everything you have to stay still, knowing you’ll likely lose them if you try to seek them out. After a minute or so, you can’t help it. You break from the line, artfully dodging families and sailors and everyone in between.
You crash into Bradley at full speed, wrapping around him like a koala. He hikes you higher, finding a place for your legs around his waist and holding you tight.
“Damn, Rooster!” Comes a familiar voice. “Save some for the rest of us!”
You get your feet under you again, pressing a hard kiss to Bradley’s mouth. Immediately upon letting him go, you turn and hug the life out of Jake.
“Aw,” he says. “I knew you missed me.”
“Don’t ruin it,” you tell him. The laughter in your voice and the tears in your eyes cut the harshness of your tone. You pull back just far enough to grin at him, moving on to Reuben, then Natasha in turn. You point out their families to them, but Reuben’s wife has her own ideas and they’re embracing before you can blink.
Bradley pulls you back, his arms around your waist, to press kiss upon kiss upon kiss to your temple. You turn, taking his face in your hands.
“I missed you,” you tell him, both belated and redundant.
He grins. “I missed you too.” He kisses you once, twice. “I love you. I think I love you more than when I left.”
You grin at him.
The two of you separate enough to walk, Bradley’s arm around your shoulders and yours around his waist. Your family greets you with kisses, and smiles, and hugs. Mav looks between you.
“Let’s go home.”
#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#rooster x fem!reader#rooster x reader#top gun maverick#tali writes fanfiction#top gun maverick fic#bradley bradshaw x reader
960 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you please do an imagine where Rooster surprises the reader, his wife, at the hospital where she works at as a nurse after returning home from the navy?
Surprise - rooster x reader
Summary: After a long time away on a mission, rooster is finally home, and he decides to surprise you at the hospital.
A/N: This was such a cute idea, and I had so much fun writing it! Nurses are super badass and do so much for everyone! Fun fact about me, my moms a nurse. I hope you enjoy this, I am seriously loving all of the rooster content right now! xoxo - Mac :) (ps, the other requests are coming!)
Working as a nurse was a stressful job at times. The calls in the middle of the night informing you to come in and assist with an emergency, the long and gruelling night shifts that required more than one cup of coffee, the patients crying out vulnerably for you to help them. It was difficult, but it was rewarding to help people get better and watch them recover from their injuries and illnesses. You were always busy at the hospital, and that helped you keep distracted when your husband was away over seas.
Two years ago, you walked down the aisle and married Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, the love of your life. And since then, life has been nothing but happiness for the both of you.
Bradley was home most of the time, but for the past two weeks he had been aboard an aircraft carrier, working on a classified mission. Rooster had been nervous to go, worried about the severity of it all, worried that he might not make it back home to you, but he knew that he needed to go. The mission had ended, and your husband had lived to tell. Now, all you had to do was wait for him to come back home - which was the hardest part.
The parking lot of the La Jolla regional hospital looked emptier than usual today, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be running from floor to floor to cover the amount of patients.
"Morning Mrs. Bradshaw," the blonde secretary welcomed you as you walked into the building, "We've got some patients in the maternity ward that are ready to be seen. And then it's just general stuff for you this after noon."
You nodded, setting your tumbler of ice coffee down in your locker across from the blondes desk, "Thanks Amanda."
You took a sip of your coffee and put your stethoscope around your neck, looking at yourself in the mini-mirror on the inside of the door. Your sun-kissed hair was pulled back into a curled ponytail and you were wearing your favourite set of navy-blue scrubs, just because you worked in a hospital wasn't an excuse not to look pretty!
You loved working in the maternity ward because it meant that you would get the chance to see, hold, and take care of newborn babies.
Your first patient of the day, was an hours-old baby and her mother. It was just a regular check to ensure that both baby and mom were managing well after the birth. The baby, one wrapped in a small white hospital blanket, was laying peacefully in its nursery crib, which really was just a clear sort of thing with a name tag, this one reading, 'Clara.'
"How are we doing in here?" you spoke softly, careful not to alarm the baby.
The mother, a woman with sleek brown hair (who looked far too put together to have just had a child) smiled, looking over at her baby "We're just fine!"
You smiled, looking at the woman's numbers on the various monitors on the back wall, which told you that she had a strong heartbeat and an average blood pressure, and all of the other usual things.
"Do you need anything ma'am?" you asked, jotting her numbers down on her chart.
She shook her head, "I've got water, and my baby, Im all good."
You nodded, walking softly over to Clara, the baby with the bright eyes who was watching you intensely as you checked her heart rate. You smiled down at her, you loved taking care of new babies, it was amazing how many of them just slept soundly after such a eventful time.
You jotted down Clara's number and checked a couple different boxes on her chart, and said goodbye as you worked your way over to the next room to see the next baby.
In this room, there were a man and woman sitting together on the small sofa in the back of the room, a baby cradled in their arms. Both were dressed in regular clothes and had the same tired look in their eyes. "Hello!" you said brightly, grabbing the families chart off of the door, "I've come by to check how your son is doing."
Their chart read that the baby was three days old, and was a part of a set of twins. From what you could tell, the other, a little girl, was in the NICU as she experienced some troubles breathing when she first arrived and has been in there for the past three days.
You tried not to get shifts in the NICU. It was always hard to see the smallest of babies lying in their own boxes with all sorts of tubes sticking out of them. It seemed unfair how something so young could already be subjected to such a great deal of worry and harm.
The woman nodded, standing up with her son tucked close to her chest, "Where would you like him?"
You brought the cart around, pushing it by its wheels "here would be great!"
The woman carefully laid him down, the child still asleep, "I'm just going to check how he's doing now."
You did just so, you used your smaller stethoscope, one designed for the smallest of heartbeats in the smallest of humans. And yes, the small boy's was just as it was supposed to be. You then checked his chest and looked him over for any additional concerns, and gladly, you didn't find any. "He is all heathy," you said, giving the mother the okay to pick up her son.
The father, who had been watching carefully from the side cleared his throat, "If only our other one was as healthy."
"I'm sorry to hear that she's in the nicu," you said, discarding your gloves in the trash, "But I have no doubt that she is going to make a full recovery. We have the best doctors and staff working back there."
The man nodded, "Our little girl is a fighter."
You nodded, and said your goodbyes, letting a breath escape your lips as you left the room, god, it was hard to see people so worried sometimes.
It was hard at first, to see families go through the troubles of having a sick child, especially a newborn, but over the years, you had learnt to bury your feelings so that they wouldn't get in the way of your duties as a nurse, which was difficult in its own nature.
You finished checking all of the babies in the eastern wing of maternity ward, and then it was your time for lunch.
Your lunch, which you had packed early this morning, consisted of, a fruit bar, a turkey sandwich, and a small tin of grapes. You were seated in the lunch room, at your usual table, the one looking out towards the ocean. You could see people surfing below, laughing, and playing in the waves, it reminded you of rooster.
As you finished eating your sandwich, you opened your phone, pausing for a moment to look at your screen saver, a picture of you and rooster at your engagement party.
You were wearing a creme coloured dress and rooster was in a collared shirt, the two of you grinning brightly, his arm around your waist.
Whenever rooster was away, the first couple days were the hardest to adjust to, cooking for one, waking up alone, without the warmth of your husbands kisses each morning, learning to live alone again. Your way to cope was to drown yourself in work, which probably wasn't the healthiest, but there were always things to do at the hospital, and there were always patients to see.
You opened the messages app, and looked over the one rooster had sent you the night before, a sunset picture of the open ocean, a gorgeous view from his aircraft carrier. "Miss you sweetheart," he had said, "I can't wait to see you soon." You couldn't wait either.
All of this reminiscing made you miss him even more, so you finished the last of your fruit bar, had a big glass of water, and returned to work.
You popped in by Amanda's desk to check where you would be working for the rest of the day. "Where am I needed this afternoon?"
Amanda flipped through a chart, "The walk-in clinic could use a few extra hands."
You nodded, "Thanks Amanda," and continued down the hallway to the ambulatory care section, where the walk-in's would be.
You signed in, swiping your ID card, and then figured out where you were needed.
Your first patient was a teen complaining of chest pains, a boy with fluttery brown hair. You took a sample of blood, and then ran an ecg, and then took them back to the lab for the specialists to check over, "We'll get you all sorted out real soon, don't you worry!" you reassured the boy, who had a nervous look in his eyes, "And if you need anything at all, press that button and one of us will be right over."
Your next patient was an older man with a once-white-now-red cloth wrapped tightly around his left hand. He was wearing a pair of coveralls and a black t-shirt, both covered in bits of grass. "What happened here?" you asked, rolling over the general-trauma kit from the corner.
"Well," the man begun shaking his head taking with some sort of southern accent, "I was tending to the back field, and a chunk of tree got stuck in the mower, and I stupidly stuck my hand down there to free it."
You shook your head, laying out the man's hand down beside him on a sterile pad.
"I thought the mower was off, but as soon as I tugged the branch, the blade started up. Luckily I got my hand out of there before it sped up too fast, but my pointer finger's got a nasty gash to it."
You peeled back the bandage to reveal as nasty gash indeed, "Lucky for you it didn't cut too deep into your skin."
He nodded, touching the brim of his hat, "Thank the lord indeed."
You gave him a numbing injection to freeze off his hand, so while you cleaned and stitched up the wound, the man wouldn't feel a thing.
You used sailing to flush the area, and a couple blades of grass out of the wound, and then began your stitches. "My granddaughter saw the whole thing, poor girl," he said, "She won the spelling bee just last week!"
As you stitched up the mans hand, he proceeded to tell you about his seven grandchildren, all of which he cherished very much. His stories made the process go a whole lost faster, and soon enough you were wrapping the list bit go gauze over his finger.
"Thank you very much," the man said, looking at your ID card, "Nurse. Bradshaw."
You bunched up all of the gauze wrapper and put them into the garbage, discarding your gloves in the act, "You are very welcome Mr. Smith. Take care."
You were on your way to the next room over, when one of the other nurses grabbed your attention. "Y/n," she said, "There's been a switch of patients, you next one is in room 5B, just a general refill on their prescription."
You nodded, "Thanks sally," and proceeded down the hallway with your stethoscope in hand.
Room 5B, was one of the nicer patient rooms, one with a door instead of a simple curtain blocking off the noise of the other patients.
There was no chart on the door, so you knocked lightly, and heard a muffled reply of, "come in."
You pulled back the door and looked up from the floor to see a man dressed in a navy uniform. Your eyes darted up from the ground to the man's face, one you had known and loved quite well. Your eyes meeting soundly with his, and in an instant you knew.
"Bradley!" You squealed, running over to your husband who was standing there in his uniform, his arms open for you. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and rooster did the same to you, one of his hands on your back, the other at the back of your head, cradling it close to him.
"I've missed you," he said into your ear, grinning, "So fucking much y/n."
He tightened his grip on you, pulling you up, your legs hitching around his waist, his hands supporting you from below. You had forgotten how good it was to be held by your husband, how intoxicating his scent was, how it filled your nose and flooded your head with the smell of home.
You looked at your husband again, eyes filled with tears, taking in his image. His sandy hair, his brandy eyes, how he looked at you, how his eyes crinkled up as he looked at you.
And then you kissed him. The kiss was slow, and long; the kind of kiss shared by people who haven't seen each other in such a long time. Bradley set you down, your knees weak at the very sight of him standing there in front of you.
Stretching up on the balls of your feet, you kissed your husband once more, his hands coming to rest on the small of your waist, your hands in his hair. The two of you were together, finally together.
When the kiss had ended, you looked to Bradley with teary eyes, "god," you sighed, wiping the tears from your face, "I love you."
Bradley put his arms around you once again, and kissed the top of your hair, "I love you y/n."
The two of you took a moment in the room to be alone with each other, before stepping out into the hallway, where sally and Amanda, and a couple of the other nurses were conveniently waiting.
"Surprise!" sally grinned, looking at you and rooster.
You looked to sally with wide eyes, "You knew about this?!"
Amanda smiled, "We all knew! It was rooster's idea to surprise you here!"
You smiled at your husband, wrapping your arm around his waist, "The best surprise ever."
#rooster#rooster top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick#x reader#rooster x fem!reader#request
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
*Rooster and Y/n skipping stones on lake*
Rooster : It’s such a beautiful evening.
Y/n, whispering: Take that you fucking lake
#incorrect top gun quotes#incorrect quotes#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x fem!reader#bradley bradshaw#top gun maverick x reader#top gun
892 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Want to Kiss You - Rooster
For this story I was inspired by a text post made by the AMAZING @mrsroosterbradshaw02! You can find the text post HERE, please like and follow her, she is awesome!
Text Post/Prompt:
Y/N: I want to kiss you.
Rooster, not paying attention: What?
Y/N: I said if you die, I won't miss you.
ENJOY! xoxo
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Fem!Reader
-------------------------------------------
My phone vibrated obnoxiously in my back pocket, the feeling of it distracting me from my conversation. I decided to ignore it and continued on but cut off when the phone vibrated again, however this time someone was calling me. I didn’t have to look at my phone to know who it was. I turned in the direction of the culprit and mouthed the words ‘What do you want?’
Hangman threw his arms up in defeat before pointing a finger at me, beckoning me over.
“I’m so sorry, Yale. I’m being summoned. Talk later?”
He nodded, and I headed deeper into the house to where my friends were in the middle of a beer pong match. The house was filled with people, mostly pilots, but civilians as well.
After a crazy mission that had us all on edge, Hangman thought it was a good idea to throw a party. It was a good idea, but I had forgotten how needy the boys were when they drank.
I soon appeared beside my friend Phoenix who was mocking Payback and his horrible attempt to get the ball in the cup. I pulled her in for a hug and smiled.
“They might be good pilots, but they have always sucked at beer pong,” She said, hugging me back.
“Hey! We can hear you,” Rooster whined over the music.
Hangman quickly realized I had joined them and drunkenly stumbled over to us.
“Ace, I need you to stand in for me while I go get the other keg.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me from my friend.
I wasn’t given a chance to deny him and I quickly joined Rooster, who smiled down at me. He was wearing one of those stupid Hawaiian shirts that went out of style years ago, but I couldn’t help but admire his toned chest that peaked out the top where he had left it unbuttoned.
God he was hot.
“Ace, don’t let me down,” he said, leaning into me.
“Do I ever?“ I winked at him and turned to our opponents, Payback and Coyote. “I’ve always been better at Beer Pong than you,” I yelled over the loud music, admiring his beauty as he aimed for the shot.
Rooster threw his ball and got it in. Coyote shook his head before leaning down to try and distract me.
Bob appeared beside me, a Corona in his hand, “Why do they call you Ace again?“
Rooster spoke first, “Because she’s good.”
“At what?” Bob asked.
I threw the ball and got it in the same cup that Rooster had just got his into, winning the game.
“Everything, Bob. She’s good at everything,” he said, pulling me in for a hug. I took in the smell of him as he embraced me, his hand a little lower on my back than I had expected it to be. I quickly pulled away, afraid of how obvious I must look to anyone that was watching.
He raised his hand for me to high five, “Who should we demolish next?”
Hangman re-appeared at the table but let me continue playing. He leaned against the wall beside me, giving us both praise when we got a ball in.
There was one cup left and Phoenix and Bob still had three.
“Don’t worry babe, I got this,” Rooster said, throwing the ball and sinking it. Everyone clapped and he bowed.
“I want to kiss you.” I said, not even realizing I had said it until after it was too late.
He finished the beer he was holding before turning to me, a confused expression on his face, “What?”
Not paying attention, per usual. I got lucky.
“I said if you die, I won’t miss you.”
He placed his hand on his heart in moch pain, “Aw, I won’t miss you either, Ace.”
I rolled my eyes as he walked away. There was a tap on my shoulder and I turned to Hangman who had a cocky grin on his face.
“What?”
“I knew it.”
I tried to act like I didn’t know what he was talking about but knew better than lie to the one person who knew me best, “Shut up.”
“You have the hots for Bradshaw!” he said, leaning into me in an attempt not to yell.
I was grateful for that.
“I don’t know why I haven’t picked up on this sooner, but it’s so obvious.”
“It’s really not that obvious.”
He ignored me and continued on, “Why don’t you do something about it?”
“Jake, I just told him I wanted to kiss him and he clearly didn’t care.”
He shook his head, “He’s just an idiot and didn’t hear you.”
I took a sip of my beer.
“Look, if he isn’t interested that is his loss. You are gorgeous and he’d be lucky to have a girl like you.”
He tapped my nose like I was a child and I swatted his hand away, “Thanks, but it’s just a stupid crush.”
It wasn’t a crush. I was pretty sure I was in love with him.
“Whatever. Just so you know, you miss 100% of the chances you don’t take,” he said, pushing off the wall and disappearing into the crowd.
It was getting late and I was tired. I had hitched a ride here with Phoenix, but I had soon realized I wasn’t catching a ride home with her as her and Fanboy had only just got started singing karaoke.
I leaned against the frame of the back door watching as the two of them danced and sang their hearts out. I felt someone come up behind me and turned to see Rooster standing there.
“It’s way past your bedtime, Ace. Can I give you a ride home?”
As hard as that fifteen minute ride would be, I was desperate to get home to bed. It was half past 2am, and I was ready to cuddle up with a good book until I fell asleep.
“That would be great.”
I glanced one more time at my friends before following him out the door.
~
We went most of the short drive in silence. However, I found it odd considering Rooster wasn’t usually the quiet type. I opted to not say anything either and praised the lord above when we pulled into my driveway.
“Thanks for the ride,” my hand reached for the door but before I could open it he finally spoke up.
“Wait.”
I turned to look at him, a confused expression clear on my face, “What’s up?”
He leaned toward me, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the seat between us. “I’m going to try something, Ace. Please don’t hit me.”
He didn’t give me a chance to interject, instead he leaned in, his lips softly crashing into mine.
It was so much better than I had imagined it would be. He kissed me like no guy had ever kissed me, his lips the softest I’d ever felt. The heat rose in my cheeks as his tongue wrapped with mine. Quick, electric and delicious.
A few seconds later he pulled back, his dark brown eyes staring into mine, “Is this weird?” His right hand moved from the chair between us to my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my now swollen bottom lip.
“No,” I smiled at him, encouraging him to go on.
I leaned harder into the kiss, his left hand leaving the steering wheel to pull me closer to him. My heart began to race and I hoped to god that he couldn’t feel it. He playfully bit at my bottom lip, causing me to let out a soft moan.
At this point we had gone too far to turn back.
He gently pulled me into his lap as one of his hands moved up my leg, and under my dress. The further up my thigh he went, the rougher he got. His mouth moved to my jaw, then slowly down my neck to my collarbone, causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.
He pulled away slowly, and I looked down at him confused.
“Should we continue this inside?” He asked.
I leaned into him, my lips hovering just above his. “You have to answer my question first.”
“Go on,” he whispered, his fingers tugging at my underwear.
“You heard what I said to you at the beer pong table, didn’t you?”
He laughed, placing a soft kiss on my lips before pushing the car door open, “Of course I did.”
My jaw dropped as he slid out from underneath me and exited the truck, “You jerk!”
“Are you coming?”
I jumped out of the truck and closed the door behind me, yelling obscenities as I followed him into my house.
#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster fluff#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#rooster fanfiction#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun maverick imagines#top gun maverick fanfiction#rooster x fem!reader#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagine#rooster top gun
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Under The Radar - Mini Series Master List
Series Summary: Being a navy pilot you expected to have your world turned upside down from time to time. Taking to the skies was the easy part, the lessons you learn on solid ground are the hardest.
Warnings: angst, fluff, soft Jake, jealousy, asshole Jake, break-ups, cheating (reader is the other woman but doesn't know until after), preludes to smut, heartbreak, Rooster is a bit of an ass in parts, fluffy Rooster. Parts 3 & 4 include spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick.
W/C: 19k
Rating: 18+
Characters: Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress), a few needed OC's. Mentioned/Small Parts: Lieutenant Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Penny Benjamin, Lieutenant Javy "Coyote" Machado, Captain Phil “Maverick” Mitchell, Hondo, Admiral Simpson,
Pairing: Hangman x Fem!Reader, Rooster x Fem!Reader.
Notes: no descriptions of reader body type or ethnicity. Takes place before Top Gun: Maverick. First time recruits at Top Gun and during the movie. For this to work they were all at the academy together but I know that’s probably not canon.
A/N: I was thirsting over Miles Teller with Sabrina - @sfreeborn - and she asked if I would ever write for him. After seeing Top Gun: Maverick, I really wanted to. My creative juices had been non-existent for weeks, but Sabrina was kind enough to give me a prompt that inspired a fic. The details of that fic (part 3) meant I needed to write another one to explain Reader x Jake’s relationship, and it spiralled.
Super Special A/N: @writercole helped me with ideas for this entire series and contributed a lot of lines/sections when I got stuck so I’m giving her co-author credit.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch //@cockslutpadalecki
Graphics: made on canva.
Series Complete.
Part 1 - Leave 'em Hanging
Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin never loses. That is until he sets his sights on the one target that might bring him to his knees.
Warnings: angst, fluff, brief soft Jake, jealousy, asshole Jake. My HC is that he’s a softie behind doors, and no one can convince me otherwise.
W/C: 4.3k
Part 2 - The Fall
Summary: Jake has proven he’s an asshole; you shouldn’t be surprised when he proves it again at graduation. But at least graduating means you’ll be free of him, or does it?
Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, injury described, fluffy Rooster.
W/C: 3k
Part 3 - Just A Kiss
Summary: A kiss always means something, especially with an ex.
Warnings: potential spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick - I’ve used some lines from the movie, language, angst, fluff, Hangman is a cocky son of a bitch with a soft side, Rooster is kind of an ass, the beach scene.
W/C: 5.6k
Part 4 - Got Your Six
Summary: The heart wants what the heart wants, sometimes the right man is not the better one.
Warnings: potential spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick - I’ve used some lines from the movie, language, angst, fluff, soft!Jake,
W/C: 3.6k
Part 5 - Hate To Love You
Summary: Bradley was right, a kiss with an ex always means something. You just need to figure out what that means for your future, with or without Jake.
Warnings: sweet Rooster, fluff, slight angst, Jake being an handsome asshole (see picture above). W/C: 2k
There's more to this story...
Under The Radar - Continued - Drabbles & One-Shots continuing Hangman and Huntress' story.
Main Master List
#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#hangman#rooster#hangman x fem!reader#rooster x fem!reader#Under The Radar#top gun#glen powell#miles teller#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun 2#bradley bradshaw#jake hangman seresin
411 notes
·
View notes
Text
Carolina?
Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?
A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭
Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.
Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.
You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.
The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.
As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.
He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.
"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.
"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.
"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.
"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.
"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"
Wait a second, who is Carolina?
It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.
"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.
Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.
And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.
Or are they? No probably not.
Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.
But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.
Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.
Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.
But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?
You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.
No sign of another woman.
That’s good. Right?
Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.
Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.
"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.
You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.
"Who is Carolina?"
Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.
"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.
"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.
"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."
"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."
"What?" his eyes widen.
"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "
The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.
"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"
"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."
"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"
"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.
Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.
You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.
"A few days after that... I had a dream."
"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.
"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."
You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.
"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."
"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."
"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.
"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.
As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.
"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.
"About what?"
"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"
"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.
"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"
"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."
"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."
He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.
"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.
"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.
"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."
"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"
"It could be something else if it's a boy."
"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"
He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."
Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹
I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady
#sena writes#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#dad!bradley bradshaw#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x wife!reader#top gun rooster#topgun maverick#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick#miles teller
593 notes
·
View notes
Text
bradley bradshaw x fem!reader — you’re worried about what bradley will think of your new haircut.
mutual pining, pre-relationship, fluff (very self indulgent since I got my hair cut this week xoxo)
You were feeling good about your new haircut yesterday, when it was freshly cut and styled and so super soft. Today is different. You know you look different and you can help but think different is bad.
You rake a hand through your short hair. “Does my hair look bad?”
Natasha and Bob both give you twin looks of incredulity. It’s not the first time you’ve asked it tonight. They’ve brought you along to the Hard Deck for a night of drinks with their friends and you can’t stop fussing over your hair. You won’t admit to them it’s because you’re harbouring a massive crush on one of their squad members and you’re worried he’ll think you look awful.
“It looks fine,” Natasha tells you, again, not for the first time. “You look pretty. Right, Bob?”
Bob hums, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “You look great, Y/N.” He gives you a look from behind his glasses. Confusion, a bit of suspicion. “Why are you worrying so much, anyway?”
Your heart stutters. “I’m not—“
“Phoenix, Bob!” Jake Seresin appears seemingly out of nowhere, sidling up to your table with all the charm of a prince. His eyes land on you and your new hair and he grins. “And Y/N. Looking good, sugar.”
He winks at you. He’s a huge flirt and you’d definitely be into him if it weren’t for another certain aviator.
You smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”
The others, Payback and Fanboy, file in behind him. They both notice and compliment your hair, which is a good sign. Still, you know who’s coming next and you can’t help but curl in on yourself, taking a sip of your drink so you don’t have to see him as he approaches.
“Hey, guys!” Bradley Bradshaw appears, stupid Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, moustache, golden skin and all. He’s tucking his glasses into his shirt so he doesn’t see you at first. “Hey— woah, Y/N.”
He stops short when he sees you. You lower your drink slowly, heart in your throat. Your knee bounces underneath the table.
“Hi, Bradley,” you say.
Bradley blinks. Blinks again. “Hi. Hey. I— you cut your hair.”
He says it like he’s never heard of a haircut before. You smile unsurely.
“I did,” you say, pushing a lock behind your ear as if that will help your case. “Is it bad?”
“Bad? No, it’s— it really suits you,” he says. If you’re not mistaken, he’s stuttering. Not only that, but unless you’re imagining it, he’s blushing. He stares at you, completely unaware of anything or anyone else, golden cheeks tinged pink. “You look really pretty.”
Your turn to blush. Heat flares behind your cheeks, burning into your smile. Pretty, he called you. “Thanks, Brad.”
Bradley seems to come back into himself, a lopsided grin creeping onto his face. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and smiles at you. “Hey, you’re welcome. Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack, okay?”
What’s that supposed to mean? You open your mouth to say something, you don’t know what, but Jake’s southern drawl interrupts you.
“Bradshaw!” Both you and Bradley turn to see Jake at the pool table with the rest of the boys. “Stop flirting with Y/N and get over here so I can beat you. Again.”
Bradley rolls his eyes. “He’s lying, I won last week. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
You weren’t planning to. He flashes you a dazzling smile and then you watch him go, your heart thrumming with the sort of electricity you can’t ignore. You think you might burst. He’d called you pretty, said you’d given him a heart attack. You feel like your own heart’s about to give out, too.
Across the table, Bradley now well out of earshot, Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you.
“Oh,” she says slyly. “Now I get why you were so worried about your hair.”
You groan and bury your burning face in your drink again. “Please shut up, Nat.”
You have a feeling she won’t.
#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw blurb#bradley bradshaw blurbs#bradley bradshaw fics#bradley bradshaw fanfic#bradley bradshaw drabble#bradley bradshaw drabbles#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw imagines#bradley bradshaw oneshot#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#bradley bradshaw x reader fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#tgm x reader#tgm fic#tgm x you#tgm x y/n#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n#bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader#top gun maverick#top gun maverick x reader#bradleysmixtape!
804 notes
·
View notes
Note
you're writing for bradley!! i am so so excited!! could i request just some domestic fluff with shy!reader and bradley? maybe her coming home from a long day and he's just the perfect boyfriend with a glass of wine and a hug ready for her? love u gorgeous 💗
thank you for requesting, babe, I absolutely adored writing this and him, let me known if you have any more!! —bradley helps you feel better after a bad, long day with wine and a multitude of hugs. fem!reader 1k
You push into your apartment, a ground floor slotting of sandblown terracotta tiles and wooden shutters weakened by termites, and pause. There's something wrong, a humming sound.
You take a step back toward the door and slide your phone from your pocket.
Hi Bradley, where are you? I think somebody has been in my apartment. Should I worry? you text him. You've continued a streak of politeness with him even now, too shy to dip into the familiarity you feel when he's holding you close over the phone. You follow it up quickly. Don't worry, I'm sure it's okay. Do you know what time you'll be coming over? Any time is OK.
"It's me!" Bradley calls with an easy chuckle. Couch springs creak as he jumps up, and a second later he appears in the living room doorway with a frankly breathtaking grin, shoving his cell into his pocket. "I'm coming over right now. Holy shit, would you look at you?"
You hold your bag closer to your side, hair not nearly as neat as it started that morning, the day's chaos etched into the small wrinkles either side of your eyes. "Me?"
When he smiles, it's all white top teeth and joy. For someone who's been through so much, and who works so hard, he's a shaken bottle of fizzy happiness whenever the moment allows —you barely have time to put your bag next to the rack of shoes (and there, his shoes you must've missed toed off and perfectly aligned with your sandy flip flops) when he's crossing the hall in quick strides and pulling you into an ecstatic embrace.
"Hey," he says, kissing your cheek, moustache not scratchy but far from soft. It rubs a wonky trail as he kisses without goal. Kiss on your nose, your cheek, close enough to your eye to make you cringe and back away.
"Hi, Brad," you say breathlessly.
You need time to prepare yourself for seeing him usually, his sudden closeness catching you off guard. You struggle to make any sense of how much he likes you, but you've given up denying his attention. You want it too badly.
He doesn't stall at your obvious (embarrassing) flustering; he doubles down. His arms like steel cords behind your shoulders, Bradley noses at the side of your face, his breath warm on your cheek as he says, "Sorry, I thought surprising you might be nice, but I didn't think about your nerves."
"My nerves," you say.
"Your bad nerves. You're flighty." He gives it another press, the straight line of his nose digging into your cheek before he pulls away.
Bradley doesn't give you time to miss his arms around you. He makes for the kitchen, notices you aren't following, and grabs your hand. Tugging, he takes you into the kitchen and elbows open your refrigerator, revealing a better sight than what you'd seen this morning.
"I had to go out again when I saw your fridge," he says, ducking down to push aside what looks like the makings of your favourite meal to unearth a pretty bottle of red. "Sweetheart, when you said you had a shitty breakfast, I was picturing, like, half a grapefruit. Did you eat anything?"
He only knows what you'd texted him, shitty breakfast code for the found half of a cereal bar in your jacket.
You don't like to text Bradley too much in case you put him off, but today was bad, and you know he doesn't mind. He'd told you so only a few days ago. His hand full of your stomach, hot under the collar, you can't remember what you'd been talking about initially, your memory intricately busy remembering the planes of his tightly muscled torso and the feeling of his weight atop you, but suddenly he'd been leaning down, brown eyes pleading. "You can talk to me," he'd said. "About anything. I want to hear it. You know that, right?"
So you texted him somewhere around lunch time and had been delighted to find him puttering around doing a whole lot of nothing. He's been keeping himself busy on leave, staying fit, helping your elderly upstairs neighbour put together her new chest of drawers between half marathons and surfing, regular dreamboat stuff.
I think I'm having a bad day, you'd said. What are you up to, Brad? Can I still see you tonight?
Why do you act like I'm not obsessed with you? he'd text back immediately. Kidding. Kind of. What's wrong? Can I bring you lunch?
Raincheck on lunch? I don't think I'll have time. I'll explain later if that's OK. Miss you.
Miss you too, baby. I wanna hear all about it tonight.
You blink up from his hands to find him staring at you worriedly. You're in your own head, exhausted and a little muddled after such a long day, and he clearly doesn't like it.
"Is wine gonna make you feel worse?" he asks, tapping your thigh with his knuckles.
"Definitely not," you say.
"Before dinner?"
Your smile turns sheepish. You want the wine much more than the dinner, but if you get both, you won't complain.
He leans back against the fridge, arms crossed, the neck of the wine bottle held precariously in a confident hand. "Sure you're okay?" he asks.
"I will be." You take a brave step forward and look up into his face. It's difficult to grasp what it is he sees in you when he's like something out of a movie, all brains, brawn, and bleeding heart. You don't get it, but he wants you, and he's here. "Thanks for coming over, Bradley."
"This shtick again?" he asks, raising his brows.
"This shtick again," you repeat, grinning at the implication.
He hooks your ankle with his. "Thanking me for coming over is like thanking a fish for swimming. Couldn't stop myself if I wanted to."
Your laugh is a wheeze. Brad does you the generosity of pretending you've made a more intelligible sound and pulls you in for a one-armed hug, rubbing a rough up and down into your side. It's such a nice feeling to be tucked up under his arm that you can almost forget how badly you want a glass of wine.
"Want the big glasses from the top shelf?" Bradley asks knowingly.
"Yes. Please."
#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw fanfic#bradley bradshaw oneshot#bradley bradshaw scenario#bradley bradshaw drabble#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fic#top gun maverick x reader#rooster x reader#top gun rooster
472 notes
·
View notes
Text
return to sender
pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader
summary: you’ve been getting your neighbor’s mail for the past few months and you were okay with it, but now came a time to finally talk to him about it
warnings: light swearing, neighbors meet cute, bradley's biceps bc god damn they deserve a warning of their own (2.5k)
navigation
The first time you got someone else’s mail, you didn’t think anything of it. Bradley Bradshaw, it said, 1987 Pennsylvania Court. That was a few doors down from your place, and they were just letters, you could just drop them off in his mailbox the next time you went out. No big deal, it was just one time.
Then one time became twice, which eventually turned into a third, fourth, fifth time, and so on. Letters soon became bigger envelopes, which didn’t actually fit into his mail slot.
So you started dropping them on his doorstep, leaving them for him to find the next time he left the house. Knocking on his door and giving him his mail seemed like it would be too much of an endeavor for your poor social skills, because you’d seen Bradley Bradshaw around from afar sometimes, but you’d never said a word to him. No, he was big and tall and scary looking, and as much as you hated to pass judgment on people you didn’t actually know, probably a jerk.
So yeah, sticking them in his mailbox, leaving them at his door and hightailing it out of there was the best option for everyone. It meant you didn’t have to confront him and tell him that his mail was being sent to the wrong apartment, and he didn’t have to waste his time talking to you. Win win for both of you.
That all went out the window today, when you opened your door to see the biggest box you’d ever laid eyes on sitting on your welcome mat, the mailing address on the top flap spelling out none other than motherfucking Bradley Bradshaw in large, bold letters. Upon trying to lift it, you very quickly found that you couldn’t even get it to budge more than an inch.
Looks like you were going to have to talk to Bradley after all.
After giving yourself a pep talk (and hyping yourself up and going through all the things that could possibly go wrong) you marched your way over to his place, practicing what you were going to say to him the whole way.
You exhaled one last sharp breath through your mouth, licking your lips nervously before knocking on his door, once, twice, a third time. Faint footsteps came from inside, the clicking of the lock a few seconds after, then the door swung open.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the person standing in front of you. It was Bradley, of course, but up close for the first time. For once, you could see him in his entirety, and holy fuck was he hot. Clad in a plain t-shirt and a pair of shorts, he looked unfairly good—a far cry from you in your stretched out leggings and frayed sweatshirt from fucking college. He was tall and broad and tan and about a dozen other words you couldn’t even think of right now, not when all you could do was barely control your reaction to seeing him. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if there was a ‘loading, please wait’ signal flashing above your head.
His gaze landed on you hovering awkwardly on his doorstep, offering you a polite smile. “Hi, can I help you with something?”
“Hi. I live a few doors down from here and I think there’s been some sort of mistake with the post office, because I’ve been getting your mail for the past few months.” You blurted, pressing your lips together right after the words left your mouth. Way to ease into it, loser!
Bradley’s eyebrow’s furrowed, mouth turning down into a confused sort of frown. “Uh…no, I don’t think so? My mail’s been getting here just fine everyday.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been dropping it off in your mailbox every time I get it.”
His eyes widened, mouth dropping open the tiniest bit in…was that shock? Surprise? Possibly guilt? Maybe a mixture of all three. “Shit, really?” You nodded. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t even—I didn’t notice.”
Honestly, you were expecting him to be a dick about it, but here he was, apologizing for something that he couldn’t have even known was happening all this time. It was throwing you for a loop, because you’d built him up in your head to be kinda mean and scary, but he was actually really nice.
“Um. It’s—it’s okay. Just thought I should let you know.”
“I guess I should be thanking you then.” He smiled warmly, and you had to fight the urge to turn tail and run. Bradley Bradshaw had the kind of smile that had the power to throw your whole plan out the window.
See, you’d banked this entire interaction on him being an asshole. You’d tell him to come get his package, he’d do it, somehow fix the whole mail delivery problem, and then you’d never have to talk to him again. Problems solved, no reason for you to have to take this any further.
Except he wasn’t an asshole at all, which made you feel like an asshole.
“I’m Bradley, by the way,” He offered, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Which you already knew, ‘cause you’ve been getting my mail for months. I never got your name though?”
“Y/N.” You replied, shifting your weight to your other foot. He repeated it, bobbing his head in acknowledgment. Hearing your name come off his lips was…well, the only way you could describe it was weird. It sounded somehow better than you’d heard it come out of anyone else’s mouth. “Right, so that’s not actually what I came over here for. Well, it was to tell you about the mail thing, but also something else. You’ve got a giant package.” Your face burned lava hot as you realized what you said and what it sounded like you were saying (two very different things, by the way).
Bradley coughed abruptly, choking on his own breath at your words. He pounded on his chest a few times to recover before speaking. “I’m sorry?”
“Your mail—a really big box. Sent to my apartment. Again!” You exclaimed, attempting to salvage your dignity and this downhill spiraling conversation. You could see Bradley was trying to keep his composure so as to not make you feel any more mortified than he could clearly see you were, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. He’d brought up a hand to rub at his mustache, effectively covering most of his mouth, but the beginnings of a smirk curled the edges of it, his eyes glinting in barely contained amusement at your blunder. “There’s a giant box that belongs to you on my doorstep and I can’t move it, so can you just…”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come grab it.” He nodded quickly, grabbing his keys and stepping outside. He shut the door behind him, gesturing for you to go first. “Lead the way.”
You started the walk back to your place in dead silence, keeping your eyes trained on the sidewalk so you wouldn’t have to say anything to Bradley. You’d rather stew in your own humiliation and impending misery than initiate another conversation. Or think about how attractive he was, but that was besides the point. Totally, completely irrelevant.
It was going pretty well, but then, he spoke. “So, when did you move into your place? I can’t say that I’ve seen you around here much.”
He was trying to make small talk, you could tell. Probably to avoid having to dwell on the very awkward situation from moments prior. And as much as you didn’t want to make any more of a fool out of yourself than you already had, it would’ve been rude not to answer.
“Been here a few years. I keep to myself mostly though.” Mainly to avoid situations like this.
“Ah yeah, I’m usually not here too often. My job takes me a lot of different places, so I’m typically gone for months at a time.” He replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Long business trips?”
“Sorta. I’m Navy. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, naval aviator—at your service.” Navy, interesting. Now you were wondering how those broad shoulders fit into a jet.
“So you zoom around in the skies for a living?”
“It’s a little more than that, but yeah, pretty much,” He snorted, said broad shoulders shaking with laughter. Damnit, even his laugh was endearing. It was getting harder and harder for you to justify making this thing with Bradley a one off. “Maybe I could take you up in my jet one day, give you a taste of what flying free feels like.”
Was he…flirting with you right now?
You finally looked at him, raising a curious eyebrow. “Really?”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s extremely against the rules. I can’t do that, I don’t—I don’t know why I said that.” Bradley admitted, offering you a rather embarrassed smile.
You didn’t know how to respond to that, but good thing you’d arrived back at your place right at that minute, the huge box on your doormat instantly distracting him.
“No way! I’ve been waiting for this thing for ages!” He exclaimed, squatting down to run his hand along the cardboard. He turned to you, eyes alight with pure joy. “You wanna know what it is?”
You didn’t feel like you really needed to know, but from the way Bradley was beaming at you, you found yourself actually growing a little interested. “What is it?”
“This fancy new coffee machine one of my buddies has been raving about. Apparently it’s supposed to brew like, the best coffee ever. I really think he might be exaggerating a bit, but Hangman’s fairly reliable when it comes to cool things.”
Your brow raised in curiosity. “Hangman?”
“His callsign. Mine’s Rooster.” Weird, but somehow it seemed very fitting.
Bradley hefted the box into his arms with ease, resting it on a raised knee as he attempted to get his arms around it. His biceps bulged with the effort, and you had to make a conscious effort to avert your gaze. God, those things had to be bigger than your head.
“Thank you again for dropping off my mail all this time, you really didn’t have to.” He said earnestly, fighting another smirk. Oh, he definitely caught you looking.
“I didn’t mind.” You replied quickly, feeling your face grow warm again. “Thought they might be important things. Naval aviator paperwork, maybe.”
“Right. Well, I’ll let you get on with your day,” Bradley chuckled. He shifted the box a little higher up in his arms, and you looked anywhere else to stop your eyes slipping to his flexing biceps yet again. “But hey, if you ever wanted to chat or hang out or something since we’re neighbors, feel free to swing by. We could try out this coffee machine, see if it’s worth the fortune I spent on it.”
You hesitated in your response. You knew it wasn’t anything serious, just some coffee between two neighbors, but the weight of it hung heavy in the air. Did you really want to make this more than a one time thing?
Bradley was really goddamn nice, and as pathetic as it might’ve sounded, just that was enough to make your answer lean towards yes. But he didn’t need to know that yet. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to pressure you for a response right this very minute, so you just nodded.
“I’ll keep that in mind. It was nice to meet you, Rooster.” You were slightly teasing him about his callsign, but it didn’t look like he minded one bit. One side of his mouth lifted into a smile, dimples on full display.
“Call me Bradley,” He insisted, brown eyes not unlike the coffee he was offering up boring into yours. “Please.”
“Okay. Bradley.” He looked pleased at that. “See you around, I guess.”
“I sure hope so.”
-------
It was weird how frequently you did start to see Bradley around after that. You’d stopped getting his mail, but sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of him through your window on one of his daily runs, and a lot of the time you somehow left the house or came home at the same time, which resulted in more conversations with each other.
He’d always go out of his way to say hi or good morning to you when he spotted you, even if you had your head down or your earbuds in, and one time he even scared the living shit out of you by tapping your shoulder when you were looking for your car keys in your bag. Turns out you’d somehow dropped them near his car (which you didn’t even know was his car), and he was on his way out too when he spotted them.
Things like this happened so often, you began to get used to Bradley. Talking to him became easier, less nerve wracking. It got to a point where you even started to look forward to seeing him out and about, because your interactions always ended up leaving you in a better mood. He was funny, charismatic as hell, and definitely easy on the eyes, and as much as you were afraid to admit it at first, you started to like him a little more than you knew you should’ve. Part of you thought that he might like you too, but you just weren’t sure.
Yeah, he was a little flirty with you, but you just chalked that up to it being part of his personality. No way he was actually serious about it. That was just who Bradley Bradshaw was.
Or so you thought.
The answer to your wonders came in the form of a stack of your mail in your mailbox one day a few weeks after the whole giant package fiasco. There was a sticky note attached to the top one, a message scrawled across the paper in small, messy letters.
These were mixed in with my mail today. My my, how the tables have turned. Here’s my number in case the post office decides to make this a new thing. - Bradley
You had to hand it to him—Bradley sure knew how to make his mark. You smiled to yourself, phone in hand, fingers entering his number and tapping out a message before you could even take a second to dwell on it.
y/n: that offer for coffee still on the table by any chance?
You set it face down on the kitchen counter the moment after you pressed send, walking away from it like that would quell your nerves as you waited for Bradley’s response. But really, what was the likelihood that he was going to see your message in the next—
Ding.
It was pathetic how fast you bolted back to the kitchen to snatch up your phone.
Bradley: Absolutely. Tomorrow at noon sound okay?
y/n: sounds perfect
Unbeknownst to you, Bradley had also been waiting anxiously for your text, digging his phone out of his pocket the second he felt it buzz, hoping his not-so-subtle way of slipping you his number wasn't too forward of him. He couldn’t help the stupid grin that stretched his lips as his eyes read your text over and over again. It would be perfect.
Now if he could only figure out how to actually work the goddamn coffee machine, it would be even better.
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster bradshaw x y/n#bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x fem!reader#rooster bradshaw x fem!reader#top gun maverick#miles teller
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
elenahunterfont
a veure
nicksstrongrugbyarms
he gives me such stink energy like stinky energy
va-queer-o
𝙫𝙖[𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙧]𝙤
kutales
★彡
mupichanzas
Mupichanzas