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roosterscockpit · 1 year

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His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x reader P. 24

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I hope you are enjoying the back to back to back posts! There is more underway! I know the Halloween HC went up, but it is a little thing on its own! Leia has yet to meet the squad 🥺 I’m so excited for you all. I’m really getting into this little family 🥹 I hope you are too! I love you all! 💕 Happy reading and enjoy! 🫶🏼

A/n: Bradley learns a thing or two from Billy 🫣 and little Leia meets more people, their reactions are 🥰

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: cursing, crying, anxiety, playful annoyance, and anger, but MORE LOVE ❤️

Please don't take my work, I will find you.

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After the banquet, Bradley drove the two of you back to your house. It was a little past midnight so you entered the house quietly. Billy and Bri were asleep on the couch with Leia. You went up to them and tapped Bri lightly. She opened her eyes and smiled at you. She sat up.

“Oh my god, y/n. You’re hot! What the fuck?”

Billy propped up and looked over at Bri, “What?” Then he looked at you, “Wow! You look nice, y/n.”

You smiled, “Thank you.” You said in a whisper.

You brushed Leia’s hair from her face. She was sound asleep. Bradley came around the couch. He smiled and waved to Bri and Billy. Billy fist-bumped with Bradley.

“You clean up well, Turkey.” He nodded at Bradley.

“Thank you, Billy.” Bradley smiled slightly and awkwardly.

Bri handed Leia to Bradley. Bradley held her against him. Her head rested on his shoulder and her arms dangling by her sides. Leia nuzzled her face into Bradley’s neck. Bradley kissed her forehead and rocked her as she stirred around slightly.

You let Billy and Bri know that you were going to go and stay with Bradley for the night and that Leia would be coming as well. Billy walked out of the house with the three of you. He went into his car and grabbed Leia’s extra car seat. He showed it to Bradley.

“You know how to put one in your car?” Billy raised his brows.

“Uhh.” Bradley looked over to you and back to Billy.

“Of course, you don’t Duck.” He walked over with Bradley to the Bronco.

Billy opened the door to Bradley’s bronco. He looked at Bradley, “Damn, good luck getting her into the car.” He pushed forward the passenger seat and went into the back seat. “It’s hella cramped back here, Bradshaw. Holy fuck.”

Bradley chuckled and handed Leia to you.

Bradley leaned into the car. Billy was sitting in the back seat and handed Bradley the car seat. “All right, Peacock. This is what you do. Put the car seat on the chair, anchor it down with the hooks here, and then string the buckle through the belt loops. After that click the buckle into the thing and play with the belt until it locks and is tight.”

Bradley followed the instructions Billy gave him and he successfully put the car seat in. Billy gave Bradley a high-five. “Congrats, dad. You successfully put a car seat in your car.” He patted him on the back. “Now when you put her in, clip the chest buckle first. Position it right with her chest. Nothing lower nor higher. Because if you stop abruptly you don't want to break her collarbone. The chest dissipates the impact since its a larger surface area. Then you have to buckle the two thigh straps into the main buckle between her legs. Then that's it. A little different from a booster seat but it’ll keep her safe in your piece of shit car.” He chuckled.

Bradley got out of the car and Billy climbed out.

Bradley laughed back and shook hands with Billy, “Thank you, man.”

Billy shook his head and pulled Bradley in for a hug, “We are family now, birdbrain. Anything you need help with don’t hesitate. I had to learn when I helped y/n.”

Bradley pulled back and nodded, “Thank you so much.”

Billy hit Bradley on his arm.

Billy came and gave you and Leia a kiss good night, then returned back into the house. You handed Leia back to Bradley. He gently placed Leia into her car seat. He positioned her head to lie on one of the sides and he buckled her in. He fixed the passenger seat and helped you into the car. He drove back to his house. He took Leia from the car and the three of you went into his house. Bradley brought Leia up to his room and laid her down on the bed.

The two of you went into the bathroom and cleaned up for bed. Bradley hung up his uniform and came out with one of his old Top Gun shirts for you to wear to bed. He helped you slip out of your dress and he helped put his shirt on. You sat on the bathtub and he took off your heels. He rubbed your feet tenderly and gave them kisses. He went to your overnight bag and grabbed your makeup wipes. He gently wiped the makeup from your face. He held your cheek and stroked his thumb over it. “You are beautiful, sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?” He kissed your nose. He went to throw away the makeup wipe and he grabbed your brush. He sat on the bathtub and patted his lap for you to sit on.

You sat on his lap and he leaned back slightly so he could brush your hair. He was being so gentle and it felt so good. When he was done tapped your thigh and you stood up. You stood in front of the mirror and he turned you to him. He grabbed your face lotion and applied some to his fingertips. He lightly put the lotion on your face, massaging you lightly. He gave you a kiss on your lips. “Now you’re ready for bed baby.”

You smiled up at him, “How did you know to do all that, Brad?”

He tucked your hair behind your ear, “I remember when we were in college and you used to get ready for bed you would always do this routine.”

You blushed and placed your hands on his. You gently nuzzled into his hand and placed a soft kiss on his palm. “I love you, Bradley Bradshaw. I love that you remember the small things.”

He rubbed your arm, “I love you too, baby girl.”

He brought you down the hall to the spare room. He got into bed with you and wrapped his arms around you. You fell asleep instantly.

You woke up and looked at the time. It was 3 AM. You looked around and Bradley was gone. You saw little light coming from the crack of the bedroom door. You went to the door and opened it slightly. You could hear music playing softly down the hall. You followed the light and the music. Bradley’s bedroom door was cracked. You peaked through.

Bradley was holding Leia. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and her face nestled into his neck. Bradley held her with one arm and his other hand up in her hair. He was slowly scratching her head. He had his cheek laid against her head and he had his eyes closed. He swayed slowly with her and sang the song softly.

“And every time I close my eyes I thank the Lord that I’ve got you, and you’ve got me too.”

Leia got up slightly and wiped her tears, Bradley kissed her cheek and wiped her tears. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s here.” She laid back down and he rubbed her back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and continued to rock and comfort her.

You watched Bradley as he swayed with Leia and comforted her. He didn’t see you watching as he had his moment with Leia. You bit your lip and tears welled up in your eyes. Your heart felt so full. Bradley’s dad mode had kicked in so quickly. He was such a natural as if he had been doing this all his life. He didn’t miss a beat. In the last 72 hours of finally meeting and being with Leia, he was perfect. He continued to sing your mom and dad’s wedding song to Leia as he danced her back to sleep.

“To think of all the nights I’ve cried myself to sleep, You really ought to know how much you mean to me.”

You went back to the spare room and sat on the bed. You heard the door open and Bradley’s eyes met with yours. He smiled and closed the door.

“You okay, baby?” He sat next to you and put his arm around you placing a kiss on your temple.

“I am perfect, Bradley.” You kissed him on his lips.

The next morning after waking up and getting ready, You, Bradley, and Leia got back into your car.

He looked over at you and gestured for you to lean over the middle console. He leaned into your ear and whispered very softly so Leia wouldn’t hear you two.

“How do you feel about Leia meeting the squad?”

“I think that’s a great idea. I think she can learn how to be the best backseater from Bob.”

Bradley nodded in approval.

“I will see what they’re all up to then.” He sent out a group text to the squad.

Bradley: What’s everyone doing?

Hangman: Relaxing.

Payback: Just with the wife.

Bob: I’m with Phoenix and Fanboy.

Coyote: I was sleeping. Hungover from yesterday.

Mav: With our darling Admirals, Hondo, and Penny.

Phoenix: Why?

Bradley: Super random, but Legoland anyone?

Fanboy: ME ME ME!

Hangman: I’M IN.

Mav: We are only coming to babysit…

Payback: On my way!

Phoenix: Uhhh DUH.

Bob: I get sick on rides, guys…

Coyote: Fuck this hangover. Just need some Gatorade. Be there in 5!

He looked at you and smiled.

“Baby, this is such a pick-up-and-go kind of thing, but how do you feel about Legoland for a late birthday present from me?”

You pulled back and looked at him shocked. “Wait, really?”

He bit his lower lip and nodded with devious eyes.

“Yea! Yea, let’s do it!” You said in a loud whisper.

Bradley kissed you and started the car. He adjusted the rearview mirror to see Leia.

“Sweetheart, how do you feel about going to Legoland?”

She squealed, “Wait! Really?”

Bradley turned around to look at her, “Oh I’m dead serious, pumpkin.”

Leia sprawled out all her limbs and screamed at the top of her lungs, “YESSSSSSS!!”

The next thing you knew, you were all on your way to Carlsbad to go to Legoland. Leia was not only getting one present by going to Legoland but she was also going to get to meet some of Bradley’s friends. Leia fell asleep 5 minutes into the ride to Carlsbad. You and Bradley had a conversation about whom you think she would like the most of everyone.

Bradley looked at you, “I think she’ll like Bob the most."

You shook your head, “I think she’ll probably like Phoenix the most, Bradley.”

“You know you’re right. You know, y/n. Phoenix is the only one that knows about Leia.”

Your head snapped to Bradley, “How did she find that out?”

Bradley gulped, “I was nervous as hell after saying bye to you when I left for the mission. She and I were talking and I told her about Leia.”

You put your hand on his lap and rubbed it, “Well I’m really glad you had someone to talk to when you were there. I’m sure it was very nerve-wracking.”

He took a deep stuttered breath, “You have no idea, y/n.” He started to get tense.

You massaged his thigh, “Hey, we don’t have to talk about this if you’re not ready.”

Bradley briefly took his hand off go the wheel and placed it on yours, “Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled at Bradley in a comforting way, “I will always be here for you, Brad. I will always be here to listen.” You squeezed his hand.

Bradley smiled back at you, “Thank you, y/n. That really does mean so much to me.” He squeezed your hand back.

You leaned back into your chair. “Actually, I change my mind.”

He cocked his back, “What?”

“I really think Leia will fancy Hangman.”

Bradley turned his head slowly to you. “I will stomp on these breaks right now, y/n.”

You started to laugh, “I mean he’s a handsome guy. If she’s anything like her mom-”

Bradley cut you off, “No. Shut up y/n.” He was so serious.

You wanted to push his patience, “I mean I’m just saying, honey. Hangman is-”

He stopped you again, “Y/n, Seresin, and I made amends during the mission and all, but I do not need for you to share the details on how you think he’s hot.”

You had him right where you wanted him, “Is that jealousy that I am smelling off of you? Huh, Rooster? Is someone getting a little TENSE?”

He knew what you were doing, you never called him by his call sign unless you were gonna push his buttons. “Do not start, y/n. Don’t call me Rooster. You’re asking for it, sweetheart.”

You leaned over the middle console and looked at him while he drove, “Or you’ll do what, lieutenant?”

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, “I’m not giving you that satisfaction.” He smirked.

You leaned back in your seat, “I put money that she’s going to want to be his ride partner all day today.”

He turned to you, “$100 and a date?”

“You’re going down, Bradshaw.” You put your fist out and he bumped it. “Deal.”

You finally arrived at Legoland and everyone was waiting for you guys in the parking garage.

Bradley got out and called over to everyone. They all waved and made their way over to your car. Bradley came around and opened your door. Everyone was so excited to see you, they all gave you a hug one by one and greeted you. Bradley went to open the door behind you to get little Leia. She was still asleep so he carried her out. As soon as he closed the door everyone got silent and just watched as Bradley carried a slumped tired child.

Phoenix was the first to come forward. She covered her mouth and had wide eyes as she approached the sleeping child that was slung over Bradley’s chest.

“oh my gosh! Y/n is this her?” She placed her hand on your arm and went up to the sleeping child. She brushed Leia’s hair that was covering her face back and her mouth flew open in awe, “Oh my gosh, she is beautiful!” Phoenix caressed Leia’s cheek and patted Bradley on the back. Bradley looked over to Phoenix and smiled at her.

“She is so precious!” Phoenix grabbed Leia's limp hand and help it, “Oh my goodness! Her little hands!”

Coyote chuckled at Phoenix, “Careful now Phoenix. You’re going to catch the baby fever!” They all started to laugh together.

Phoenix glared at Coyote and rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Coyote.”

Payback looked at Bradley surprised, “Damn Rooster, already playing daddy duty?” He looked at him and laughed.

Fanboy egged it on with Payback, “Yea man, who would have ever thought out of all of us you would want to play dad.” He started to laugh too.

Bob looked at Fanboy and Payback confused. He looked over at Rooster and was more reassuring, “I think it looks good on you, Rooster!” He nodded his head.

Hangman’s lips were parted as he looked at you, “Y/n, I didn’t know you had a kid?”

Coyote came and rested a hand on your shoulder, “Legoland makes so much more sense now.” He chuckled. “I thought we were just a bunch of grown-ass adults that wanted to come to Legoland. Now I don’t feel so guilty over being overly excited.” He took a sip from his Gatorade bottle.

Leia started to stir and she looked at Bradley, “Are we here?”

Bradley kissed her temple and moved her hair as she started to wake up, “We are here, sweetheart and there are some friends I want you to meet. They’re pilots like Mav and me.” Her eyes shot wide open when Bradley said “Pilots.” Your daughter turned around slowly with a smile on her sleepy face.

You looked at her and smiled, “Good morning, baby! Did you have a good nap?” She rubbed her eyes and nodded.

You turned to the guys, all of their smiles wiped off of their faces, just pure shock. Their jaws were all hanging open. The Gatorade fell out of Coyote’s mouth and he dropped the bottle. It splattered all over the place. You started to giggle, and you looked back at Bradley holding Leia. With him smiling and Leia smiling, their faces next to each other, there was no way they could deny that she was his.

The guys looked at you and then your daughter and Bradley. It was silent. You, Bradley, and Phoenix started to laugh.

Bob stuttered slightly, “She…She looks exactly like Rooster?” He was so confused. But then a smile washed over his face. “Wow! Congratulations you two!” He went over to give Leia a high five, “Hi, I'm Bob.”

She gave him a high five, “I’m Leia. Is Bob your real name or call sign?” She smiled as her little hand lingered on Bob’s hand. “Call sign.” He turned to Phoenix surprised.

Fanboy blinked at Bradley trying to process the twins that appeared in front of him, “Rooster, you have a kid? When were you going to tell us?” He patted your back as he passed through to meet your daughter.

Bradley fist-bumped Fanboy, “You’re meeting her now, man.”

Bradley put her down so she could meet everyone. She stayed close to Bradley, she was nervous. She had her back pressed against his thighs and Bradley placed his hands on her shoulders, “You’re okay, sweetheart.”

She stood there quietly and smiled. Fanboy put a fist out, “Hi there, my call sign is Fanboy.” She fist-bumped him back, “Hi Fanboy, I'm Leia.” She said softly, still smiling.

“She’s beautiful y/n!” Fanboy looked over at you.

Payback made his way over to Bradley and Leia, “That’s so crazy man. How old is she?” He had his hand out to shake Leia’s. She grabbed his hand and shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you, sweetie. I’m Payback.”

“Hi I’m Leia, it's nice to meet you.”

Bradley rubbed Leia’s shoulders to help calm her nerves as his friends met her, “She’s 6. Actually, she just turned 6. That’s why we are here. It’s a birthday present from her mom and me.” You let Bradley do all the talking, you could see he was so excited to show off his little girl to his friends.

Hangman chuckled, “Well, Rooster. I didn’t think you had it in you.” He paused and looked at Bradley. “But you do look good, Rooster.” He smiled and came to Leia. “Hey cutie, I’m Hangman.” He knelt down to Leia’s height and put his hand up for a high five.

“Like the game?” She gave him a sift high-five and they all started laughing.

“Yes, like the game.” Hangman smiled at Leia.

“I’m Leia, like the princess.”

Hangman patted her head, “It's nice to meet you, Princess Leia.” Leia blushed.

You looked over at Bradley and mouthed, “You’re going down, Bradshaw.” He shook his head at you.

Coyote threw his arm over your shoulder, “She is beautiful, y/n.”

Bradley cleared his throat and interjected, “Hey, uh yea. Thanks, Coyote. Does that make me beautiful too? Because she looks just like me.” Bradley took off his aviators and smiled cheekily at Coyote.

Coyote made his way over to Bradley, “Oh Rooster, You’re smoking.” He laughed and fist-bumped Bradley. Coyote squatted down by Leia, “Hi sweetheart, I’m Coyote. It’s great to finally meet you.” He stuck out his finger to Leia.

Leia grabbed his finger and shook it, “Hi Coyote. I like your call sign. If I get a puppy I want to name them that.”

Coyote patted Leia’s head and stood up.

You all made your way to the entrance of Legoland. You all waited for the rest of the group to show up before you all entered. Mav and Penny showed up with Hondo. Bradley introduced him to Leia. Hondo took a step back and put his hands over his mouth.

Hondo lit up with excitement, “Oh no way, Rooster!” He looked at Leia, “My god, she looks just like you.” He put his arms out and Leia hugged him. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m Hondo. I'm a friend of Mav and your dad’s.”

She was still shy, “Hi Hondo, im Leia.” Then Bradley brought Hondo over to you and introduced you to him.

He placed his hand on the small of your back and stood next to you, “Babe, this is Hondo.” Hondo racked his hand out to you, “It’s lovely to finally meet you. Mav has told me so much about you.”

You smiled and shook his hand, “It's nice to meet you as well, Hondo. I’m y/n.”

Hondo looked at Bradley and none, “Beautiful girls, Rooster.” Bradley gave you a soft kiss on the top of your head.

The last ones to show up were Cyclone and Warlock.

“God that’s weird to see them in civi’s.” Bradley said with a disgusted look.

Everyone looked and laughed as they approached. Bradley approached them and shook their hands as well as everyone else. Then Bradley brought them over to you, “Admirals this is my girlfriend, y/n.” “Babe, this is Cyclone and Warlock.”

You smiled and reached your hand out to Warlock, “It’s a pleasure admiral.”

He smiled at you, “She’s a keeper, Rooster.”

And then you put your hand out to Cyclone, you nodded and smiled, “Admiral, nice to meet you.” He was very straight-faced, he gave you a small smile and grabbed your hand, and shook it.

“Told you he’s hella serious, babe,” Bradley said under his breath to you.

Cyclone looked between you and Bradley, “Y/n, you’re far too pretty for this guy.” He let out a laugh. “Thank you, admiral. I know she is.” Bradley laughed.

“I have one more person for you two to meet if that’s okay.” Bradley looked at them and they both nodded. He made his way over to Phoenix who was holding Leia’s hand. Bradley tapped Phoenix's shoulder and she let go of Leia’s hand. Bradley placed her right in front of him and crouched down behind her.

He put his hands on her arms giving her some comfort, “Sweetheart, these are more friends of mine. They used to be pilots too.” He pointed to each of them, “This is Cyclone and this is Warlock. Can you go and say hi to them?” She stood there shyly, “It’s okay, baby. I've got you. It's okay.” Bradley nudged her a little towards them. They both came down to her level.

“Hi, I’m Leia. It's nice to meet you.” They both gave her little handshakes, “It's nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” They both said. She backed up and ran back into Bradley’s arms. He picked her up and went to them. “Sorry, my girl is shy. She’s meeting a lot of people today.” He rubbed her back as she nuzzled her face in his neck to hide.

“Bradshaw, is she yours?” Cyclone looked at him confused.

“Yes, sir this is my daughter.” Cyclone and Warlock looked at each other, “How long have you had your daughter, Rooster?” Warlock interjected.

“I uh. Well…” Warlock shook his head, smiled, and patted him on the back, “Congratulations, Rooster. She’s a beauty!”

Cyclone walked around the back of Bradley to look at your daughter. “Hey sweetheart, it's okay.” He gently poked her hand and she looked up. “Oh, she is definitely your daughter, Bradshaw. If she could grow a mustache that is you.” He patted him on the back and laughed, “There is no denying her, Lieutenant.” Bradley laughed. “Congratulations, you’re going to be great.” Cyclone smiled at him.

“Thank you, sir. With guidance from her mom.” He nodded to you, “I know I’ll be the best I can be.”

After everyone met Leia, you all finally made it into Legoland.

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Now that the cat is out of the bag, Leia has finally met the whole squad 😍 How do you think it will be from here on out? I feel like they’re just going to be obsessed with her 🥺 I’ll see you in the next part, babes! 🫶🏼

Tag List will be in the comments. Hopefully it works and you’ll get notified 🥺 I am so sorry it hasn’t been working, babes! Thank you for sticking around 🫶🏼

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saltyfilmmajor · 2 years

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Warlock being Maverick’s behavior translator is so funny to me but also it really highlights that there are a few people who genuinely love Maverick in the Navy, and take the time to try to understand him as a person

Because Warlock sees Maverick struggling emotionally and tells him that he’s where he belongs, just like Iceman tells him earlier in the film.

Hondo, Warlock, Ice, the dark star project crew, and the top gun pilots by the end of the mission really see maverick for who he is and it makes me so emo

#nancy says some stuff #top gun: maverick #warlock bates #maverick mitchell #iceman kazansky #hondo coleman #the fact that warlock has nothing but respect for maverick and genuinely seems to trust him #it makes me so emo #there is a certain mythical quality to maverick that doesn’t belong in the navy and yet #there are people who will stick up for him no matter what because they believe in maverick #warlock x maverick five ever #but also wow I’m soft

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maisydaisylazy · 2 years

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Hey! I'm looking for a fic but the only part I remember is when I think Rooster salutes/stands to attention for an officer (maybe cyclone/Warlock) and Hondo!

It's for sure Hondo. I also remember there was a comment on the fic explaining that a Lt. won't stand to attention for Hondo because he's a warrant officer so not higher ranking.

I know it's vague, but please any help🥰

#top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #missing fic #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman top gun #bradley bradshaw #maverick fanfic #maverick x iceman #help finding a post #bernie hondo coleman #hondo top gun #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone top gun #warlock #warlock top gun

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pollyna · 2 years

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Hondo finishes the schematics over breakfast, just before Solomon serves them tea. It's small, as prototype, two sits and not a single gun or missile attached to the wings. But it's fast, damn if it's fast. So much so it's the perfect type of plane to use for rescue mission or to drop people and stuff wherever is needed. It's the type of plane that makes you do reckless maneuvers but still give you a mission and a target to lock in.

They would have loved it Solomon murmurs kissing his forehead and yes, yes Hondo knows they would and that's why he named the file, and the plane, Mitchell-Kazansky even if he know it's going to be renames very soon. That plane is just like they were and he hopes the Navy is going to let him built it and flight as high in the sky as it can.

#au: mav dies during the mission (some says he died of heartache the moment ice passed but he had his squad to save before resting)#did i just made hondo x solomon in a very cozy and domestic setting? yep.#why? who knows #hondo coleman #solomon warlock bates #hondo x warlock #soft domestic set #hondo is that brilliant and dreams of schematics because ✨️he's too much for this world✨️#how to deal with grief when u loose your friends: built a plane and let it fly bc they can't anymore #icemav #post top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick

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boasamishipper · 1 year

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my personal favorite highlights from the official top gun: maverick script:

meek engineer's name is simon and is dating someone at the pentagon which is how they found out about the drone ranger coming to shut the darkstar project down

"That's...blue sky up there, Mav." "Yeah, but dark blue. Ominous."

mav also called darkstar 'angel' and 'girl' which i'm glad they cut otherwise i would have died in the theater then and there

"Hondo stares at his monitor. He knows his friend well." 🥺🥺🥺

"y'all built one hell of a plane" oh mav ❤️

"For anyone unfamiliar, it’s obvious there is story here - Glory and ghosts." g o d

admiral's aide do you MIND he's having a MOMENT

warlock is described as "an affable, brilliant two-star" hell yeah

i personally think it's hilarious that cyclone was apparently top of his class in '88 but in the script he's in his forties?? even if he's 49 the film takes place in 2019?? that would make him 18 in 1988?? mr mcquarrie sir the math ain't mathing

"Maverick has had about enough of this shit" if that doesn't just sum up both movies

as a macheresin shipper the fact that hangman and coyote were planned as besties from the get-go,,,,,,,my heart is Full

"sorry i couldn't be there" oh ice 🥺🥺🥺

mcq's love for casablanca continues to shine through

penny's dad is alive and retired and still hates mav

"Keepin’ it tight, I see, Phoenix" hangman is such an ASSHOLE i HATE him (affectionate)

bob's description is "human wallpaper" i am DYING

"shit, that's fritz" i DEMAND to know why fritz's arrival elicited that reaction from fanboy!! show me the fritz&b-team daggers cut!!

"Maverick sees a ghost. From this angle, the kid is a dead ringer for Goose, just as gawky and gangly, loving life." and what if i Bawled

MAVERICK REQUESTED HONDO SPECIFICALLY

HONDO WAS GONNA MEET UP WITH A LADY IN RENO WHO IS 'AN ACROBAT' AND 'VERY FLEXIBLE'

"I need at least one person on my side here" MAV

"I'll stand somewhere else" HONDO

mav originally ran the entire class through the contents of the F-18 NATOPS 👀👀👀

in the original script rooster gave hangman his callsign...personally gonna stick with the headcanon that phoenix (if it had to be one of the daggers) was the one who gave it to him, but Very Interesting nonetheless.

rooster calls phoenix 'fee' brb peppering this into All my fics

PHOENIX IS THE MAV OF THE MOVIE CONFIRMED

I DEMAND TO KNOW IF THERE IS FOOTAGE OF GLEN POWELL SINGING 'HOT FOR TEACHER'

genuinely cannot believe mcq wrote this. he is on galaxy tier levels of thinking i could never even hope to reach.

rooster being protective of phoenix you know that's right

theo the yellow lab was originally named "t" in the script,,,,,,,,t for tony scott,,,,,,,,,

"You're a warrior, Ice. A fighter." bury me ALIVE

"(Note: Important we include PILOT POV establishing gray-out in the lead up to G-LOCK)" this script is tighter than a snare drum

"Kinda like your ass depended on it" GET HIS ASS MAV

phoenix and bob refuse to even IMPLY that mav was in any way at fault for them having to eject,,,,,,,,they are Ride Or Die

as a warlock/hondo shipper i am also Delighted they actually got some screentime together

MAV WAS SUPPOSED TO GIVE THE EULOGY AT ICE'S FUNERAL 😭😭😭😭😭

mav and hangman were apparently supposed to talk after mav chose hangman as his wingman but i'm glad that scene got cut because a) showing vs telling and b) hangman is Not emotionally aware or mature enough to say what he says here out loud and you can't convince me otherwise

"Hondo stares at him. Maverick stares back. Something unspoken passes between the two men." and mavhondo shippers everywhere rejoiced

"HONDO squeezes his fist tightly, feeling something crack. He opens his hand to see the crystal of his stopwatch is crushed, the second hand frozen. An omen." HEY MCQ WHAT THE FUCK

"CLOSE ON Hondo, reflecting on his last moment with Mav." see above

"How we gonna get this bag’a ass in the air?" "Just hang on. Cause this bag‘a ass is about to go ballistic."

"Rough Rider, this is, uh...Ghost Rider" *cries in callbacks*

"The minute Hangman touches down, pull the trip wires and have the barricade stanchions ready." (silence) "HE DOESN'T HAVE A GODDAMN TAILHOOK." (OH SHIT FUCK OKAY RUNNING NOW)

lowkey like the parallel between cyclone nodding at mav and hangman and rooster shaking hands. they still don't like each other, but they respect each other a little more now. as the script says, that's enough.

"Among the pictures is one of Goose and Maverick in the bloom of their youth - their whole lives ahead of them." 😭😭😭😭😭

WE WERE ROBBED OF PHOENIX JOINING ROOSTER AND PENNY AND AMELIA AND MAV AT THE HANGAR I REPEAT WE WERE R O B B E D

"TIME CUT as Phoenix holds two model planes, demonstrating air to-air combat to a very interested Amelia." ooooh amelia has a cruuuuuush

"Rooster turns, looks at the make-shift family taking shape in this makeshift home…And he smiles." 😭😭😭😭😭

#top gun: maverick #icemav #maverick mitchell #iceman kazansky #mavhondo #hondo coleman #warlock bates #hangman seresin #phoenix x rooster #brace #all the cuts and rewrites were definitely for the best but this is a solid script if i ever saw one #mcq deserves the oscar for the 'hot for teacher' line alone

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topgun-imagines · 9 months

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You’re Never Coming Home (iii)

Requested: no

Summary: The first day of training, Maverick and Bradley have to figure out how to work together. The younger of the two seems reluctant to do so.

Word count: 2.0k

Note: lots of time skips. More of a filler chapter to prepare for the next one.

Warnings: mentions of death, arguments, light angst.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Previous part || Next part

There was sun streaming in through the open screen door when you peeled your eyes open. The bed beside you was cold, long since empty after Jake got up this morning. You rolled over, holding the thin sheet against your bare chest as you sat up. A quick glance at the clock told you that it was just after seven. Yawning quietly, you smiled softly as your eyes landed on the folded note on your bedside table.

Morning sweets,

Just wanted to let you know that I love you so much. Hope you had a good sleep and I should be back before supper. Have a great day and make sure you call me if you need anything.

Love you, Jake.

At the bottom, there was a small heart drawn. You ran your finger over it gently, folding up the paper and setting it back on the nightstand. The two of you had spent a few hours talking once you got home. Sitting up in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms, the two of you reminisced about memories from the past. Jake held you as you recounted everything that had happened with Bradley, how you gave yourself to him and he stomped on your heart only a few hours later, and you held him as memories of his wingman's death flooded to the surface. It was a very emotional night.

Only a few hours later, Jake was pressing a kiss to your forehead and climbing out of bed. He got dressed quietly, stealing glances at your sleeping form every now and then. Twenty minutes he was slipping out of the house. What you didn’t know was that he returned a few minutes later to drop off a little gift.

You peeled the curtains open further, sunlight flooding into the cozy bedroom. Connecting your phone to the speaker, you waited patiently for it to beep before hitting shuffle on your playlist. You hummed along as Taylor Swift’s voice began floating through your bedroom. By the time the song was finished, you were fully dressed and taking the stairs two at a time, speaker playing loudly as you brought it downstairs.

Stopping in your tracks, your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of the bouquet of flowers sitting on your kitchen counter. Wrapped in thin tan paper, was a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers. Your heart melted at the sight. One night, nearly four years ago now, you had confessed to Jake about your interest in flowers. You told him all about how you would find out the meaning of certain flowers. Which ones represented love, and which represented friendship.

On your next date, he brought you a small bouquet of baby’s breath, the flowers sitting in front of you now. You were overcome with emotions the second that he handed them to you. Jake was the first person in years to care about you any more than was required by society. Sure, you had a few friends but ever since Bradley, you had never had someone love you the way he did. And as soon as he gave you the flowers, you knew he loved you even more. To pay attention to something that you had briefly mentioned, let alone flowers and their meanings. You wanted to cry at the sight of the delicate flowers.

Now, you stood in the kitchen of the housing that Jake had been assigned, staring at the flowers as you became overwhelmed with emotion. Your fingers brushed over the soft flowers carefully. After a few seconds of simply staring at the small white flowers, you moved further into the kitchen, pulling your water bottle from the fridge.

“Attention on deck!” The pilots stood rigid as Cyclone and Warlock stepped forward. The Air Boss stops beside Hondo as Warlock continues to the podium. Hangman’s eyes stayed locked in front of him, standing rigid as he waited for Warlock to speak.

The man looked down at the podium for a split second before raising his head. “Morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated,” The pilots sat down in unison at the instruction. “I’m Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You’re all Top Gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best,” Rooster had a small smile on his face. Two rows in front of him, Jake put a toothpick in his mouth, a cocky smirk on his face. “That was yesterday.”

The group of pilots each instantly became more somber. “The enemy’s new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage,” Warlock’s eyes drifted over the pilots in front of him. “Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box.” With that, Jake turned his head, smirking at Phoenix. She turned briefly to meet his stare, looking away seconds later and flipping him off discreetly. A shit-eating grin grew on your boyfriend's face.

“Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve.” Jake turned, meeting Bradley’s stare with raised eyebrows. The mustached aviator only looked at the cocky pilot blankly.

Warlock continued as Maverick began walking toward them in the large hangar. “Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master,” Maverick’s footsteps echoed through the hangar as he grew closer to the group of pilots. “His exploits are legendary.” The pilots turned their heads to watch their new instructor walk down the aisle toward Warlock. When Jake tuners his head, expertly flipping the toothpick in his mouth, he wished that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Given his luck, he wasn't surprised that their new instructor was the man that he threw out of the bar last night. While part of him was looking forward to kicking the man's ass for what he did to you, the other part knew that you wouldn't want him to do that. Maverick may have wanted nothing to do with you, but that didn’t mean you wished the man any harm.

The sun was beating down on the pilots as they walked down the tarmac toward their planes. Rooster was walking quickly toward his, trying his hardest to ignore the man calling his name behind him. “Bradley!” That was the second time Maverick had called him, trying his call sign seconds before. Rooster kept walking forward, face fixed into a hard stare.

Maverick sighed. “Lieutenant Bradshaw!” At the use of his formal title, Bradley stopped. He turned to face the older man, his face unreadable. The pilot tried to sound unbothered, but it was easy to hear the irritation that laced his words.

“Yes sir.” Shaking his head slightly, Maverick stopped when he got closer to the younger pilot.

Bradley stared down at him with a blank expression. “Let’s not do it like this.” While he knew that there was dirty laundry to air, but he also knew that this was nowhere near the right place to do that. The two of them would need to have a conversation eventually, one that Maverick was dreading and Bradley was planning on avoiding.

Clenching his jaw, Bradley looked down at his superior. “You gonna wash me out?” Even though Bradley refused to acknowledge it, there was a pained look on Maverick’s face as he shook his head. A part of Maverick was now wishing that it never would have come to this, that he and Bradley never would have drifted apart the way that they did.

The pilot couldn’t take back what he had done, nor did he want to. Even though Bradley stood across from him now, hating the older man with every fibre of his being, he would never take back what he did. His actions bought Bradley an extra four years to prepare for the career he was about to begin. After making a promise to his best friend's widow that he would keep her son safe, pulling his papers was the least he could do. What he could only wish was that Bradley would understand that he did it to protect him.

He looked back up at the younger pilot, instantly reminded of his best friend. “That’ll be up to you, not me.” Bradley nodded slowly. He swallowed sharply and tried to keep his expression stoic.

“Am I dismissed?”

From his plane, Jake could see the two having a tense conversation. While he knew what happened between you and Bradshaw, and what happened between you and Maverick, he had no idea what happened between the two of them. In that moment, he made it his mission to find out.

“How was your day?” The question was out of your mouth before Jake had even closed the door. When you heard the rumble of his truck in the driveway, you headed toward the front door. Jake huffed and tossed his duffle bag onto the ground, practically collapsing into your arms once he was close enough.

He groaned into the soft skin of your neck. “It was the day from hell,” You chuckled quietly and rubbed your hand up and down his back. “Maverick is our instructor,” From that statement alone you could understand why his day was so terrible. Jake had always had trouble accepting the fact that Maverick had practically abandoned you because of Bradshaw’s actions. “One of the other guys made some bet so every time we lost we had to do 200 push up’s.”

You cooed softly. “Oh, my poor baby.” Jake laughed quietly and you grinned at the sound.

“Then Maverick, Bradshaw, and I went up and it was a whole cluster fuck,” That made you snort quietly. It didn’t surprise you that after nearly two decades, the egotistical men still couldn’t get over themselves enough to get the job done. “They did some cobra maneuver bullshit that nearly sent them into the ground.” If Jake felt you freeze, he didn’t say anything.

You may not be very happy with the men right now, but you didn’t want them to get themselves killed. You still cared about them. A glance at the clock told you that it was nearing 10:30 pm. “How about we head to bed, Sailor?” He nodded against your neck.

Silently, the two of you made your way toward your bedroom. Jake helped you strip out of your clothes, transfixed by the sight of your bare skin. He held you as you brushed your teeth, strong arms wound around your middle. You were slightly distracted by the soft kisses that Jake was peppering all across the side of your neck and up your jaw. Moaning softly, You smiled at the feeling and tilted your head to the side. “Let's go to bed, Jake.” You whispered.

Without complaint, Jake followed you to the bed. After a little bit of maneuvering, you and Jake were snuggled comfortably under the sheets. The pilot was curled into your chest as you played with his sandy blond hair. Within seconds, you could feel his breathing even out and hear the soft snores falling from his parted lips.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep yourself, your phone lit up on the nightstand. A name that you hadn’t seen in a long time was staring back at you when you picked the phone up. Ice was asking if you wanted to get lunch. Why the man was up this late, you couldn’t say. But, instead of questioning the man, you simply agreed, promising to meet up with him tomorrow.

After hitting send and receiving Ice’s simple reply of a thumbs up, you set the phone down and let your eyes fall shut. It only took you a few minutes to drift off, images and flashes of years ago filling your mind as you slept. You had no idea what the next few days would hold.

a/n: Thank you all for reading!! Let me know if you would like to be tagged and stay tuned for future parts :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @missathlete31 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @keileighr @rey26 @lt-spork @callsign-ember

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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For The Gold 🥇 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

Link to my TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Pilot/Olympian!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), slight Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Content warnings: fluff, mentions of injuries, slight profanity. Might be emotional for you so be warned| Gn!reader (They/them) | wc: 12k+

Premise: In which the 2019 TopGun Uranium detachment return to Fightertown to watch and cheer on their colleague & friend as they compete on the greatest sporting stage the world has ever seen for their last chance at Olympic glory.

Note: so I was an athlete growing up (I did gymnastics, soccer, and figure skating) and although I no longer pursue my dream of going to the Olympics (my biggest regret in life) I still get super excited when it comes around. It’s currently World Cup season & I’m hyperfixating to say the least on sports and now have these ideas of a professional athlete!reader works for the dagger squad. Let me know if you want more because I totally have ideas for other sports— especially the ones I played because I have more personal knowledge of them, but I LOVE watching the track and field and nearly went that path when I was a kid because I loved to run and was really fast (I played wing for soccer in high school and I always had people tell me I should’ve been on the track team instead). For this imagine, imagine you were born in 1990 so it would put you at age 30-31 in 2021 and just to be clear this is following the idea that the events of TGM took place in 2019 since the movie was supposed to come out around that time or 2020.

“Let’s freaking go!!!” Javy practically shouts as he claps his hands when entering The Hard Deck to a crowd of people and his friends. Eyes were already glued to the multiple TV screens Penny had set up with the help of regular patrons. There was a table filled with food set out, coolers of ice and beers donated by customers. The bar was buzzing with excitement with many sporting team USA gear and waving American flags. It was the early hours of the morning—literally 5 am and everyone in the building had slept the duration of the previous day in order to pull an all-nighter or had just woken up. They wanted to watch the event live and not the replay later that day due to the 17 hour time difference. News crews were there as well, hoping to catch everyone’s reaction.

The squad rolled their eyes at their colleague, but smiled nonetheless. They too were filled with anticipation. “How much time until their up?” Coyote asked, taking a beer before finding a place beside Hangman. The Dagger squad had arrived early to get good spots with Coyote being the last to arrive. Now there was hardly any space in some areas with the turn out. Civilians and servicemen swarmed every corner.

“About thirty or so minutes. They should be coming into the arena soon.”

Everyone from TopGun was there, including Cyclone, Warlock, Hondo, Maverick and the current aviators going through the TopGun program. Many of the former 2019 detachment had gone off to their old or new assignments, but as soon as the announcement of the team hit the news they were popping off in the group chat and booking flights to Fightertown.

So here they all were. All 12 of the special detachment that trained together for a high-risk uranium enrichment plant mission back again in the Hard Deck like the first night three ago. Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, Fritz, Halo, Omaha, Harvard, and Yale. They were only missing one person.

The person across the Pacific Ocean who was the reason they were together to cheer on from home, and would be going for the gold in one final run.

It was the first week of August, 2021. The Games of the XXXII Olympiad in Tokyo, Japan.

What should have been held the year prior, was postponed due to the COVID-19 Pandemic. Now after years of hard work & dedications, nearly 12 thousand athletes from 206 nations around the world were gathered for the greatest sports event in history.

17 days, 339 events in 33 sports. The gold medal on the line.

For Y/n L/n, this was the moment they’d been waiting for. At 31 years old, Y/n spent their entire childhood and adolescence dreaming of the day they would walk through the tunnel of an Olympic arena to represent the USA. From the moment they could walk the track became their life. Their parents were coaches at Vanderbilt University and were the contributing factor to them pursuing the sport. And at age six, Y/n sat in the stands of the Centennial Olympic Stadium in the summer of 1996 where they witnessed with awe as Micheal Johnson won the gold for the USA in the Men’s 200m & 400m sprint and Carl Lewis defended his title of the long jump champion for four consecutive Olympics. Just days prior Y/n witnessed history for USA Gymnastics when the Magnificent 7 defeated Russia for the US’s first women’s All-Around team gold medal.

It was a memorable Games, held on home soil in the city of Atlanta and with many firsts and defenders.

It was the spark of a lifelong goal for the six year old in the stands.

Blood, sweat, and tears were put into training. From an early age Y/n loved to run. But sprinting was their passion. The 100m, 200m, & 400m became their sole focus.

Everyday, sometimes twice or three times Y/n was running drills and sprints. Their day would start with an early morning jog with their dad before the sun was even out, followed by breakfast before heading to the track. From there they would stretch, run drills, and conditioning. Then they would have an hour break for lunch before doing it all over again until dinner. The day would end with another cycle of drills and conditioning. Y/n would be out of breath, sweating, and sometimes in pain.

But they were determined. Like most athletes who dedicate their lives to the international level they became homeschooled and missed out on many things a typical child or teen would experience. Though Y/n had friends it was only a select few. There was hardly time for a social life and therefore it was hard for them to form connections. It wasn’t until they got into competitions did they begin making friends with fellow competitors.

At age 10 Y/n participated in their first meet. It was a let down, but not a total loss. Sure they didn’t win a medal but they didn’t come in last and that in itself was a win in their eyes. It just made them more determined to do better and the next season they delivered by claiming a regional title. As years went by regionals became state titles and soon Y/n was a national champion at age 16. That winning season had brands reaching out to sponsor the teen, but if they were to also take a chance at an NCAA title in college then sponsorships were gonna have to wait.

2008 was the year to remember. Y/n had attended their first World Championships and although they didn’t win gold, they took the bronze and became a likely contender to make the Olympic team in the upcoming trials. They had just graduated with their diploma and had accepted a full ride to Vanderbilt University as part of their track team. What came as a big surprise to their parents was Y/n would not just be getting their degree and competing for the college team, they would also be doing the Naval ROTC program.

Unbeknownst to their family, Y/n was drawn to the world of aviation. Their grandfather was a fighter pilot for the Navy and would tell them stories of what it was like in the air. He even had a cool callsign, ‘Viper,’ and taught at the Navy’s prestigious school for pilots. When Y/n was a child, he would take them to the air shows and teach them all about the maneuvers they were doing and even brought them to TopGun. They were in awe as he would explain all the gadgets and weapons of the F-14.

Yes, track and the Olympics was their life, but something was calling them to the skies.

“Honey, where did this come from? You never talked about joining the Navy before,” their mother said with confusion at the dinner table when Y/n explained their upcoming schedule. “If you make the team this summer I hope you’re not planning for this to be your only games. You’re so young and could easily go again for London and the 2016 games.”

“That’s still the plan, mom,” Y/n sighed, “But you remember all those stories grandpa would tell me about his pilot days? I want to do something more in case this doesn’t work out—have a backup plan per say. What if I tear my hamstring or something happens that I have to retire?” It wasn’t something they liked to think about, but with being an athlete the next meet is never guaranteed. Injuries are common—especially torn ACLs and hamstrings. Y/n had other passions besides track and wanted something there for if the worst happened.

“Y/n, if you do two years of their program you have to decide whether to commit or not and you’ll likely be commissioned when you graduate,” their father pointed out, “That means you’ll have new priorities and if you're serious about flight school that is going to cut time off the track. London is possible given it will be your last year in college—maybe we can pull some strings and have your commission pushed back if you make the team—-but I don’t think 2016 would be. You’re talking balancing a career as a Naval officer and professional athlete. That’s a lot to take on—physically and mentally.”

He had a point and Y/n knew it. London was in four years and definitely possible even if they fail to make the Beijing team. The location of 2016 had yet to be decided, but with the timing it would put Y/n four years into a possible Navy career.

Still they were wanted to make both work.

An Olympic champion and a fighter pilot.

First they had to get through 2008 and boy was it a year to remember. It fulfilled one half of the Olympic dream for Y/n: making the team and competing on the world’s greatest sporting stage. Tears streamed down their face as they embraced their parents following the end of the trials. It was a hell of a trials with Y/n competing against some of the best track stars in the country. They were completely starstruck when Allison Felix congratulated them following the announcement, Y/n remembered watching her four years prior in Athens for her Olympic debut and thought, ‘I really hope we’re teammates in Beijing.’

Unfortunately, a gold medal was not in store for the athlete. Of the three events; 100m, 200m, & 400m, Y/n only qualified for the 200m & 400m after finishing in the top two of their heat. The night of the 200m finals was a saddening with Y/n finishing fourth, just shy of a medal, but the Games were not a total loss when days later an Olympic bronze medal was placed around their neck and the American Flag rose alongside Great Britain and Jamaica’s.

And so the next four years of training for London—with Rio De Janeiro in 2016 looming around the corner—began the second they touched back on U.S soil. On top it was the pressure of securing NCAA titles not to mention A’s & B’s in their classes, while also getting through one of the top collegiate ranked NROTC programs.

It was a lot. And Y/n became burnt out at times. They had already set their name in record books at the national level, now it was time to amp up the game on the international and college level. A bronze medal would not satisfy Y/n, gold was the goal.

It all paid off by the time 2012 arrived. With a few more national titles under their belt and a World Championship in the 400m, Y/n was the talk for a gold among commentators. At the end of their collegiate career they secured several titles in their three events and managed to come out with a 3.8 cumulative GPA. In regards to the NROTC Y/n committed to the program after their second year and was set to commission that summer. The trials were around the same time as what would have been the ceremony, but after several meetings they allowed it to be postponed until after the trials. It would be some time before Y/n would be assigned an OTS due to the path they were taking with flight school and therefore it would likely not interfere with the upcoming Olympics. “Bring home the gold for us,” the officer shook their hand at the end. It filled them with nerves, but mostly perseverance, “I plan to.”

The trials were a success once again with Y/n having the honor to call themselves a two-time Olympian. The five colored rings were tattooed on their bicep, something they did immediately after Beijing that often resulted in being recognized in public, and gold was in their mind. After qualifying for all three events and earning a place on the 4x100 relay, Y/n had four chances at the gold: 3 individual and 1 team.

It was a silver lining moment in all three individual events. After failing to qualify for the 100m finals in Beijing, Y/n pulled a show stopping finish in the last heat earning them a place in the final. It was the most heat pumping 10 seconds of their life that happened in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it they were on the podium with a silver medal and the same would follow in the 200m and 400m. At the end of the 400m ceremony they were bombarded by reporters with the same question, “Y/n, what a run tonight, congratulations again this is your third medal in these games and it seems to be a silver lining moment for you. What are your thoughts?”

Still coming off the emotion from winning their fourth Olympic medal, a privilege not many could say, Y/n smiled wide, “It’s amazing really, you know I took the bronze four years ago in this event and I’m so grateful to come out with another medal—this time being silver. I couldn’t believe Monday night when I took the silver in the 100m—just making it to the finals after not qualifying in Beijing was an accomplishment and same goes for taking second in the 200m. I want to thank my parents, who are also my coaches and have been with me on this journey since the beginning. I’m just so blessed and filled with happiness tonight—I could not have done this without them.”

“You still have a chance at the gold in Wednesday’s relay. How are you feeling about that? What can we expect by the team?”

“We have such an amazing group for the relay, I’m so honored I get to represent the United States alongside them. Every one of us have worked so hard to be here and have really put our blood, sweat, and tears. Hopefully bring home the gold—I know each of us are going to give it our best.”

Y/n’s publicist from the side was signaling for them to hurry up, “One last question before you go,” the reporter quickly said. “For the people at home who have been cheering you on these past four years, can we expect you to return for Rio? I know you could very well take the gold in the relay, but are you hoping to try for an individual in the future?” This was the question Y/n had been preparing for the entire games. Having managed to keep their NROTC program hidden from the media, it troubled Y/n to reveal they would be a Navy officer by the end of the summer. It wasn’t odd for active duty members to be athletes, there were plenty who participated in the games every four years. It would just be difficult given the career path they chose and having to get all the paperwork filed for time off around meets and international competitions.

After a moment of thinking, they finally answered, “I’m very lucky I get to say I competed in these games twice now. I’m twenty-two now and will be twenty-six by the time Rio comes around—not to mention I start flight school pretty soon,” there was immediate surprise by the reporter, but Y/n continued and was quick to finish with. “I’m gonna work hard as I always do and hopefully Rio is in the cards for me. But to give a yes or no imma just say yes, that is the plan.”

Before the reporter could question the topic of flight school, Y/n was already saying goodbye and letting their publicist pull them away. The relay was in two days and was their last chance at winning a gold for the London games. Of course, Y/n was hopeful they would make the Rio team for the sake of winning an individual gold medal. There would no doubt be glory and honor if they were to win the relay, but it had been their dream since childhood to stand on the podium with a gold around their neck for one of their events.

The relay was all they ever dreamed of. A strong group with Y/n leading the first leg before handing it off, giving their teammate a great start to pull a lead against the other nations. As they were walking back to the start, their heart was racing and not just from the adrenaline…but by their teammate being the first to cross the finish line. Then there was the sound of the announcer amongst the roaring crowd, “WORLD RECORD!!!” with the USA appearing beside the #1 spot.

Y/n was screaming before they could stop themselves, “Oh my god!!” knees hit the track as they sank to the ground. They couldn’t even hear themselves by the cheers. It was a spectacular moment with Y/n pulling themselves up to run and embrace their teammates and share the glory they just made. Not only were they Olympic champions but also World Record holders of the 4x100m relay.

“The United States has taken the gold here today in the 4x100m relay and a new world record has been set thanks to the extraordinary start by Y/n L/n.” “This relay group gave it their all today, John. It was such a close call coming around on the third leg, but the Americans pulled through for a stunning finish for Olympic gold.”

With an American flag in their hand, Y/n joined their teammates beside the record projection. They were teary eyed, but held off from crying because they knew the emotion would come full heartedly on the podium. And boy did it come. The second the national anthem was playing, the first tear fell from Y/n’s eyes. The medal was heavy around their neck, but it was a reminder that they achieved the goal they set out when they were six years old.

Olympic champion.

And they got to share it with their teammates—an immense honor they would cherish till the end of time.

Y/n could barely remember all that happened following the podium ceremony. After a celebration with their parents and best friend, who flew all the way out to London to support them, they had no more events and got to rest for the remainder of the games. Closing ceremonies were spectacular. One of Y/n’s favorite moments from the Beijing games was getting to mingle with athletes from the other nations during the closing ceremonies. This time around Y/n was speechless as they got to see a Spice Girls reunion and One Direction perform.

Life became chaotic to say the least following the return from London. After winning four medals including a gold, Y/n was asked by several talk show hosts to appear for an interview. They accepted a few and were immediately bombarded with questions about the little detail they slipped after winning the silver in the 400m. “You made it known to the world that you’ll be going to flight school, was it? What can you tell us about that?”

“Well during my time at Vanderbilt, where I competed for them in the NCAA—which can I say, It’s a completely different ball field when your parents are not only your coaches for international competitions but also college meets. The energy is different, especially because they’ve been there for almost two decades now and are the definition of school spirit. Anyways, while I was there I also took the route of doing their Navy ROTC program. My grandfather was a fighter pilot for the Navy and pretty much became my inspiration for wanting to fly—on top of being an athlete. It was something I thought long and hard about. I wasn’t sure if I would even make the London team and of course anything can happen, but I knew I wanted to go to fight school back when I competed in 2008. I actually will be commissioning once I’m done with all this post-Olympic press.”

The ceremony was a bittersweet moment. With their friends and family around them, Y/n was pinned on with the ranks of Ensign and named an officer of the United States Navy. From there were the challenges of balancing a career as both a professional athlete and naval aviator. Often were days of bad mental health and aches after overexertion. OTS & Flight school was intense but shaped Y/n in many ways. The first day they were recognized by a classmate resulting in the callsign, “Olympian,” after everyone would say, “Hey, Olympian!” when calling out to them after two straight days.

“Could’ve been worse,” Y/n chuckled after their parents were like, ‘really?’ when they told them. “I mean it could have been something like ‘Short-track,’ or ‘Goldilocks,’ if they thought about it. If I fucked up doing something then they would’ve named me something related to it. I’ll take Olympian cause that’s what I am.”

After completing flight school and receiving their first duty station, Y/n made the decision to hire a new coach. The World Championships were coming up and they did not want to uproot their parents while they were still the head coaches at Vanderbilt. At first they protested, but eventually relented on the condition that Y/n’s coach would be their former colleague. He was the former head coach of Vanderbilt when their parents were athletes themselves before becoming assistant coaches. “He is everything you need to bring your A-game these next seasons and Rio. I’ll make the call first thing in the morning and see what he says.”

The four years between London and Rio were brutal. The training with their new coach and balancing an aviation career showed more hardships than ever. Y/n proved themselves to be a talented pilot despite the struggles and eventually was invited in 2015 to attend the Navy’s prestigious Fighter Weapons School more commonly known as Top Gun. The same place their grandfather attended and taught at.

A hard decision had to be made when the invite came. The time period interfered with the track season and Y/n would not be able to defend their two-consecutive world titles in the 400m sprint. In the end, Y/n announced they would be pulling out from the 2015 season to attend Top Gun. They weighed out the pros and cons and felt it was the best route given the Olympics were a year away. If an injury were to occur then it could result in Y/n not even having the chance to do the trials. Their coach was frustrated in the beginning, as one would be after dominating the national and international meets for two years straight. He eventually put his differences aside to put focus on what Y/n needed to improve if they were to take the gold in Rio.

It was at Top Gun that Y/n met fellow naval aviator Natasha “Phoenix” Trace. They were seated next to each other in one of the many lecture rooms at Fightertown where Nat had to do a double take after recognition sparked in her. Nat was an athlete in high school and college who, like many, would sit with her family to watch the Olympics every four years. Though she didn’t run track, a sibling of hers did so they would always tune into the events when they came on. After seeing the patch reading ‘Olympian,’ Nat had to hold back her fangirling as the memory of her cheering when the US took gold in the 4x100m relay. ‘It has to be them.’ At the end of the lecture she approached Y/n with a shy smile, “I’m so sorry if this is weird for you, but are you Y/n L/n? I’m Natasha—Phoenix.”

They struck up a friendship during their time at Top Gun. The two bonded over their NCAA careers and sports in general. Nat admired Y/n for being able to balance being an athlete and aviator, for she made the difficult decision to not pursue her sport after college. What was ironic was they didn’t feel threatened by the other when going after the top spot in their class, considering they were both obviously competitive. Both had immense respect for the other, and didn’t care at the end of the day who came out on top. They both had similar hobbies outside of flying and would spend nights watching movies, going to the bars, or playing volleyball with their fellow pilots. It was a genuine friendship with Nat supporting Y/n even after they graduated from Top Gun both ranked #1 in their class.

Nat even took time off to attend the 2016 U.S. Track & Field Olympic Trials. There she witnessed Y/n, who she now called a best friend, qualify for their third consecutive Olympics. Nat never screamed louder in her life than when Y/n took the top spot on the team for their events. “Oh my God, you did it!” She hugged the athlete when it was all done. “Holy shit congratulations, Oly! This is it—this is gonna be your year!” Nat wouldn’t be in Rio, but promised to cheer Y/n from home.

Unfortunately the journey for the individual gold medal ended before it could even start. After qualifying for the 100m and 200m finals with the expectation of being part of the relay team once again, Y/n’s dream of gold crashed during the semifinals of the 400m.

Literally crashed.

Their signature event which had an Olympic bronze and silver to their name as well as several World titles, ended in catastrophe. As Y/n came up on the last leg with the final turn, Y/n had a tight lead against their main opponent. But before they could blink the athlete to their left tripped and fell to the side directly in front of them. Moving so fast and unable to stop to avoid the person, Y/n topped over and felt a searing pain in their side as they landed awkwardly.

Gasps rang out before the stadium fell silent with just the faint sound of cheers from the winners of the race. Y/n was panting, clutching onto their side as fire filled the entire right side of their body. The athlete who tripped was in tears and apologizing profusely. There was still adrenaline from the sprint as the arena stopped spinning around Y/n. Determined to cross the finish line, Y/n pulled themself up and helped their fellow athlete up, “It’s okay, c’mon. Let’s finish this.” They were crying and Y/n had their own tears from the pain in their side and leg, but they only had a few yards to go. Cradling their right arm, Y/n was practically limping alongside their opponent while struggling to breath. Each time they took a breath they were met with pain, not to mention each step had them wince.

They didn’t want to think of the extent of the injuries. The pain alone indicated it was bad. Y/n knew right there their Rio run was done for. Their lips trembled as the reality set in.

The athlete saw Y/n’s condition and immediately brought them to their side as they approached the finish line. Cheers and claps ignited the stadium. There was no doubt they were moved by the display of sportsmanship between two athletes from differing nations. Both with the same goal of Olympic glory that would not be delivered.

Y/n was swarmed by the medical staff. The athlete who tripped them kept apologizing, filled with guilt, embarrassment and shame causing injuries to the Olympian. They felt a little pain from falling but nothing to the extent Y/n had. They had practically gone flying forward and crash landed to avoid hitting their head hard on the track. Now that the adrenaline had finally worn off, Y/n was having to do everything to hold back from collapsing. Y/n embraced the athlete with a hug despite the multiple medics yelling at them, “Don’t blame yourself, it could have happened to anyone. Okay? I’m not angry with you at all.” It was true, Y/n wasn’t angry. Were they sad? Of course, their Olympics were totally over after being diagnosed with a fractured right arm, a bruised rib, mild concussion from hitting their head on the track, and a torn ACL in their right knee.

Commentators were speechless when the incident occurred, “Coming around the corner on the final stretch it’s a tight race between USA, Jamaica, and France—Oh! Oh no! Oh my goodness, there’s been a crash here ladies and gentleman and it doesn’t look good for the American Y/n L/n. Not at all, they are not moving—oh wait no they are getting up right now and helping the athlete from Poland. But L/n looks to be in pain they’re holding onto their arm and I can see they are having trouble jogging—a slight limp to their step. Now the Polish athlete has taken L/n under their arm and they are crossing the finish line to the cheers of the arena in a display that could only be described as what the Olympics is truly about. Great sportsmanship here folks. It’s unsure what L/n is feeling right now but one thing is certain, we will not get to see Y/n go for the gold in the 400m final.”

After the race when the NBC announcers live from Rio were in the studio recapping, they gave an update to Y/n’s situation.

“Breaking news we’ve just received on American Y/n L/n. After the unfortunate incident in tonight’s 400m semifinal, the 26-year-old from Nashville, Tennessee was rushed to the hospital after it was realized the injuries they sustained were more severe than what they thought. It’s being reported Y/n is in surgery for a fracture to their right arm and torn ligament in their right knee. It’s also been noted the athlete suffered a mild concussion as well as a bruised rib. Their coach has come out with a statement on behalf of L/n letting it be known they’ll not be competing in the 100 and 200m finals nor the 4x100 and 4x400m relays they were scheduled to compete in. L/n also has said they will remain in Rio to recover until after the conclusion of these Olympic Games before returning with their teammates to the States.

“The gold medalist in the team relay from four years ago has not said if they will be aiming for a shot at the 2020 games in Tokyo, Japan. L/n was the 2008 bronze medalist in the 400m dash before claiming silver medals in the 100, 200, and 400m in London as well as sharing the gold for the 4x100m relay. They were the leading contender for an individual gold in one of the events after dominating the 2013 and 2014 World Championships. The three-time Olympian pulled out from the 2015 season due to conflicting commitments after revealing in 2012 they were commissioned into the United States Navy following their time at Vanderbilt University. These games in Rio were their first international competition since the one year hiatus. We can only hope Y/n will continue their journey to an individual gold medal in Tokyo, but from those of us in the studio and on behalf of everyone watching at home, we wish Y/n L/n a speedy recovery and safe trip back to the States.”

It was a solemn week in Rio with Y/n sitting in a hospital bed and the games playing on the tv screen. Their coach was with them, as was their dad and together they cheered the US when they took the gold in several events including defending the 4x100m relay. The doctors in Rio gave Y/n a recovery period of nearly one year—the longest healing process being the torn knee. It would be nine months until Y/n could even jog on it, but the doctors recommended waiting a full year before testing it. PT was going to be a pain in the ass, but as long as they didn’t run or do sprints then Y/n would be able to do all else after everything else healed.

Their concussion lasted a couple weeks and the bruised rib took over a month to heal, as did the fractured arm. The 2017 worlds and nationals were out of the question. Thankfully Y/n was still able to fly once the concussion was gone and their arm was fully functional.

The entire year the athlete was unsure of what to do about Tokyo. All their focus was put into flying. Running missions instead of the track and being promoted to Lieutenant in 2018. That same year they decided to try for one more shot at Olympic gold by training for Tokyo. Their coach and parents were all too pleased—even Nat after Y/n called her up to ask for advice. They had a lot to work on since Y/n waited an extra six months after fully recovering. The 2018 season was unattainable so the goal was a comeback in the 2019 season gearing up for the 2020 Olympics.

Just like when Y/n was a child, blood, sweat, and tears were put into training. More times could they remember wanting to quit when their knee started to act up after a bad start off the blocks. They had more arguments with their coach which only fueled the fire. Lastly they were on intense missions that took a toll on their mental health. Nat would check in on them every once in a while, but Y/n brushed it off. This is what they signed up for. They made their bed, now they were to lay in it.

2019 nearly brought deja vu. The World Championships were held in Qatar at the end of September leading into October when Y/n got the call from Vice Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson.

“The Pentagon has tasked me with assembling a strike team for a special detachment. I’ve seen your record and I feel you have what it takes to be a possible member of this mission. Now I know your situation and it is my understanding you’re currently in Qatar, what time are you expected to be stateside?”

Y/n’s hands were shaking, dread filling them at the thought they would likely have to decline an assignment. But these championships were more imported. “The last day is the sixth, but if I qualify for the finals of all my events then I should be done by the fifth, sir.”

“That’s perfect,” his words had them sigh in relief. “The tentative date to report to North Island is the 24th. I’ll be emailing you the information at another time.”

“Yes, sir. I will be there. Thank you for informing me, sir.”

“Oh and Lieutenant?” Cyclone stopped them before they could end the call.

“Yes, sir?”

There’s a slight pause, “Good luck out there. Bring home the gold for us.”

And bring it home they did. In an amazing comeback after what could have been a career ending injury, Y/n L/n reclaimed their title as the world champion in the 400m dash. They fell short in the 200m, but left with the silver and even secured the gold for the team 4x100m & 4x400m relays. People called it the ‘comeback of the decade,’ and Y/n fell subject to a lot of media attention in the world of sports. Their publicist did their best to handle the press once they found out about Y/n’s upcoming commitment. “I won’t let a single soul find out about this, Y/n, I promise you. The devil works hard, but I work harder.”

Once stateside track was put on hold to prepare and partake for the special Top Gun detachment. Dressed in their service khaki’s, Y/n entered The Hard Deck for the first time in three years and was immediately tackled by Phoenix. “You’re here! Holy shit when did you get back?”

“Like two weeks ago, I’ve been chilling since Qatar since there were no assignments until this.”

“Wait, you’re here for the Top Gun detachment too?” Phoenix raised a brow before frowning, “Why didn’t you tell me the other day on the phone?”

Y/n gave the woman a look, “I wasn’t sure we could even mention it to people. Plus you didn’t say anything either, Phee.” They got her there, the pilot raising a hand as if to say, “touché”. By now they have drawn the attention of several other aviators, who all appeared amused by the display of affection by Natasha and were curious to know who it was that received it. One person, Bob, had their jaw dropped when it clicked who they were. Payback appeared to be deep in thought, like they recognized Y/n but couldn’t put a name to their face.

“Trace, you gonna introduce us to your friend?” the blonde aviator, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin said with a pool cue in hand. He was totally checking Y/n out with a settle drift of the eyes up and down. They didn’t look impressed but smiled to the others nonetheless.

Natasha brought the pilot over and proudly introduced them, “Fellas, this is Y/n L/n. Better known as ‘Olympian.’ One of the best damn pilots you’ll ever see. We both shared the honor of first in the class at Top Gun in 2015.” Nat then introduced all the guys and their callsigns, Y/n shaking each of their hands—Bob still appeared starstruck when they let go of his hand.

“Olympian, huh?” Hangman chuckled at the name, “That’s quite the callsign. What are you Greek? Or obsessed with mythology?” Rooster glared at the man, but also looked curious for the reason behind the Y/n’s callsign. Even their name sounded familiar. They had yet to see the tattoo on Y/n’s bicep, which now had the names Beijing XXIX, London XXX and Rio XXXI in tiny cursive below the rings.

Before Nat or Y/n could fire back at Jake, Bob dropped his cup of peanut shells. Everyone looked at him like, ‘what the hell, man?’ But Y/n started to smile, recognizing the shock in his face as though he had been right about something.

“S-sorry. Oh my God,” he stuttered with red cheeks, “You’re Y/n L/n. L-like THE Olympic gold medalist Y/n L/n. Oh my God I’ve watched you since 2008–since Beijing!” The revelation had shocked looks from everyone now besides Nat of course.

Payback suddenly jumped from his seat, “holy shit! I knew I recognized you from somewhere but couldn’t exactly figure it out for the life of me.” The man was stationed in London at the time of the Olympic Games and attended the night the US won gold in the relays. Now here is a member that he cheered on from the stands in front of him. “Wow, I was in London seven years ago—I-I saw you compete. This is fucking unreal.” Y/n laughed, shaking Payback’s hand. He was still coming down from the shock, having just crossed his mind that all over ESPN and Sportscenter the past month sportscasters were talking about Y/n’s comeback.

“Wait a minute,” Rooster pitched in, the memory of being in a bar the summer of 2016 played in his mind. In the same memory he remembered watching the 400m semifinals on the tv scream and gasping with everyone else when the American contender for the gold had tripped over their competitor and was out the remainder of the games. Coming closer to the scene in front of him, Rooster’s eyes caught the black ink on Y/n’s bicep. “Well I’ll be damned. You’re a pilot, a naval pilot like us? And you’re a fucking olympian?”

“Three-time to be exact, but who’s counting?” Y/n teased, causing Phoenix to chuckle and hand them a beer. All the men minus Payback and Bob, who had slight knowledge of Y/n’s career, practically had their eyes bulging. Rooster honestly thought they had just been in London and Rio. “It’s nice to meet you all. And to answer your question…Bradley, right?”

“Yeah, but please call me Rooster.” Y/n tried not to giggle at the callsign.

“Rooster, but yes I am a pilot, as our lovely Phoenix has pointed out I graduated Top Gun with her three years ago.”

“Weren’t you just in Qatar two weeks ago?” Payback asked when he remembered the World Championships in Athletics had just taken place. All over sportscenter they were talking about the comeback of the decade. “I swear I just watched you on my tv the other day during replays of the world championships.”

Y/n sipped their beer before replying with a nod, “Yeah I was. I probably wouldn’t be here if the timing wasn’t perfect.”

“That’s crazy,” Fanboy commented, still in disbelief he was speaking to an actual Olympic athlete. After hearing the stories from his fellow athletes— and doing a quick google search when no one was looking—Mickey was internally fanboying like his callsign namesake. “How have you managed to do both?”

“Lot’s of sleepless nights, determination, desire to win, and tequila on the weekends.” There were laughs at that. For the rest of the night Y/n fell into conversation with everyone. A few asked for a picture, which they were happy to do, and even signed some autographs for Bob and Fanboy. They caught up with Nat, relieved London memories with Payback and went into detail about their injuries when Rooster brought it up.

“I was at the bar with some buddies and saw that happen live. Everyone couldn’t believe it and I remember seeing you limp across the finish line with the, I think it was the Polish athlete? That’s amazing you even managed to get up after a crash like that.” Y/n was on their second beer, sitting between Bob and Coyote and across from Rooster while the others listened from the sides as they continued the game of pool.

“What were you thinking at that moment?” Javy asked with curiosity. “Did you like automatically know it was over for you?”

Y/n thought for a bit before replying, “the second I hit the track I knew my chances for the 400m were done—it was the semifinals after all. When I first felt the pain I thought it was the typical instant pain that would go away after a bit. Then when I started to move it got worse and as soon as I got up I thought, ‘yeah there’s no way I’m gonna be able to do the finals or relays.’ My chest was on fire from the bruised rib and then I could barely feel my knee once the adrenaline wore off. I probably would’ve collapsed after the finish line if they weren’t holding me up.”

‘Damns’ and ‘wows,’ rang out before Bob politely asked, “Are you going to try for the Tokyo team?”

“Yup,” they exhaled with a nervous chuckle at the end. “It’s gonna be tough I feel with how these past couple seasons have been, but I’m hoping for one final Olympics. It will be my last chance at gold—Individual gold,” they corrected before anyone could comment.

“You’re gonna retire?” Fanboy tilted his head, a little saddened at the thought. Throughout the night he had been on his phone watching replays of Y/n’s meets including their Olympic and World Championship runs. He tried not to react when he watched the 2016 400m semifinals. Now the thought of them retiring felt like a loss to the sport. It was like how he felt when Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt retired.

“Maybe not fully,” Y/n gave a small smile. “I might do one last season and a Worlds, but I don’t think I’m gonna go for the Paris Games.”

Payback came over and clapped them on the back, “Well I don’t know about these clowns but you can count on me to cheer you on next year. Hell I might even come to the trials.”

“That’s what I did in ‘16,” Phoenix cut in with a smile. “It was amazing and I’ll be in the stands again. Already planning to take time off to be there.” Y/n felt the warmth and gratitude swarm in them, “Thanks, Phee.”

What should have been three weeks of special combat training turned out to be two. The pressure was on with Y/n pushing their limit harder than ever—even exceeded that of their comeback. Never had the F-18 they’d become accustomed to flying feel like a stranger. Maverick was like their coach and Y/n made it their own personal goal to prove to him they had what it took to fly the mission.

At one point Y/n nearly pulled out as a candidate. When the details of the assignment were brought into light Y/n had to think hard about what they were doing. It was not going to be an easy mission. Not by a long shot. Ending badly was a great possibility compared to actually pulling it off. Their life was on the line.

What if they died? What if they got injured to the point they would have to medically retire? Decades of training for the Olympics would end if something horrible happened. Y/n had three to their name, an honor not everyone gets to have, but there was their chance at redemption after 2016 was now on the line.

In the end 6 of the 13 candidates were chosen and although Y/n felt a little saddened they were not chosen, there was a sense of relief. They were put on reserves and boarded the carrier for a long week ahead of them. When it was time to send off their teammates, Y/n pulled them each into a hug, letting it linger on Nat and making her promise to come back. “If worse comes to worse, L/n,” Payback said, “You better win the gold in our honor.” There were mutters of agreement from the others.

“How about you focus on coming back so you can watch me win it in your honor.”

They fulfilled the promise, because now here they were in The Hard Deck about to watch Y/n attempt to keep their side of the bargain. It was 5:15 am on Friday August 6th, 2021. The second to last day of the Games of the XXXII Olympiad held in Tokyo, Japan. And it was the finals of the 400m sprint.

Just a couple months ago in June several members of the squad including Phoenix, Payback, Rooster, Hangman, & Bob met up in Eugene, Oregon to attend the trials for the U.S Olympic Track & Field Team. Following covid precautions they wore their masks and stayed together in their own little group literally competing themselves on who could cheer the loudest. It was a bittersweet moment watching their friend and former teammate secure their place in their fourth and final Olympics. Hangman and Phoenix nearly shed a tear, the former consumed with emotion as they looked on proud at their partner waving to the crowd. Their romance was a surprise, but after the two met to catch up in March of 2020, they ended up having to go thorough lockdown together.

And well…..forced proximity can do wonders when you’re attracted to someone.

Jake wished he could be in Tokyo with Y/n, but even though it had been over a year since the virus broke out and sanctions were being uplifted there were still regulations set in stone for the Olympics. The entire event was postponed a whole year, but was still referred to as the 2020 Olympics despite being 2021. Only the athletes and coaches, which were limited to only one, were allowed to travel. Leading up to the Games, Penny had issued a vaccination verification and made the mask policy optional for those who had been fully vaccinated. She even went as far as making a limit for attendees during the week of the track and field events and had people reserve a spot in advance. She even set up screens outside for people to keep space in the building.

It was still a pretty full house and it was buzzing with excitement as it had been the whole week. Many were regulars who came every night to watch the heats, semifinals, and finals of many events but mostly people were there to watch their very own Top Gun alumni Y/n L/n. Even their parents were there—flying to San Diego to be a part of the watch party. They were already filled with nerves, Y/n’s mother was very upset she couldn’t be there in Tokyo with her child. If they won the gold it would be a bittersweet moment since her parents wouldn’t be there to celebrate in person until they returned home.

It was already a successful Games for the Olympian. The week before Y/n won the bronze in the 100m dash and 4x400 mixed relay and reclaimed the silver in the 200m. The place erupted in cheers each time with the dagger squad being the loudest. It would increase whenever the camera panned to Y/n, who was in obvious joy at racking more medals to their Olympic collection.

But now the pressure was on with one final individual event.

The 400m sprint.

Their signature event with two medals and several titles to their name.

One final shot at gold.

There would still be the relays, in which the final for the 4x100m would take place an hour after the 400m final and then the 4x400m the following night, but Y/n becoming an Olympic champion for an individual event would happen in less than fifteen minutes. The program flipped between other events while in prep for the race, often showing Y/n in the tunnel as they awaited the announcement of the finalists.

At around 5:20 all eyes were glued to the screen with someone yelling, “Turn it up!’ when the sportscasters appeared to be talking about Y/n. The pilots all had the same expression, wincing when they replayed the footage of the 2016 semifinals.

“I think we can all agree we are looking forward to this race, right Steph?”

“That’s right, John. You know, all eyes have been on Y/n L/n these Games. They have already had a great run with three medals, two bronze and a silver with three more events to go. They have quite the Olympic career since their debut in 2008 at the age of eighteen. They came up forth in the 200m in Beijing and walked away with the bronze medal in the 400m,” below the commentator was Y/n’s Olympic statistics. “Then they had a spectacular run in London where we saw them on the podium in each of their events. Silver medals in the sprints and It was their start off the blocks in the 4x100m relay that I believe is what secured the Americans the gold.”

“I agree, Steph. I can still recall that race and the emotions I felt. L/n had an amazing post-Olympic run after London—totally dominating the 2013 & 2014 seasons. Let’s not forget they were one of the top athletes in the NCAA’s during their time at Vanderbilt. I definitely believe it would have continued into 2015 if they hadn’t pulled out, but they still were the leading contender for the Rio Games. It was the height of the career I feel.” The screen was now split to showcase footage of Y/n’s 2013 & 2014 Worlds. Then it showed the heats and semifinals of Rio.

“Totally, John, they dominated the trials that year. They very well could have left Rio with more medals—quite possibly a gold in 400m which is their signature event. Everytime I rewatch the semifinals I almost have to look away at the final turn.”

“I know, it was an unfortunate incident that ended Y/n’s Olympics before they could really start. We almost didn’t know if we would even see them here in Tokyo, but after a spectacular comeback at the 2019 World Championships in Qatar, I had very high hopes we would get to this moment.”

“Me too, John, the pressure is on for the 31-year-old, let’s see if they can deliver,” the commentator turns to look at the camera with Y/n’s picture beside her, “Well it’s almost time for the 400m and it looks they are about to announce the finalists so we are going to have our crew in the stadium takeover our coverage. We will see you back here in the studio after the race and be sure to stick around because the night won’t be over for the four-time Olympian. Y/n is set to be one the four of today’s 4x100m relay final and tomorrow’s 4x400m relay.”

The screen switched to reveal the stadium, specifically the entrance tunnel where a projection would show the name and nation of the finalists. Y/n had taken the top spot in their heat and the semifinal so they would get the fourth lane on the track.

“Here we go!” Someone in the Hard Deck clapped, causing a few more people to follow. The cheers heightened when the American flag appeared above the name Y/n L/n.

First the announcement was in Japanese, then the English translator spoke through the stadium “In Lane Four, representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n!” With a shy smile, Y/n appeared from the side and walked until they were directly beneath their name. Then they turned to the camera and gave a wave followed by blowing a kiss to the screen and lastly throwing a peace sign. It must have been a little awkward without a packed stadium like the previous Games. Only a small section was filled with locals and the coaches of the athletes.

“That’s my best friend!” Nat yelled over the cheers. Several others followed the pilot, “Let’s go, Y/n!” “Bring it home!” “One last time, baby, let’s go!”

The remaining finalists were announced and took their place behind the starting blocks. When the camera panned to Y/n, their eyes were closed in a silent prayer.

“Take your mark.”

Their eyes snapped open with a shaky breath, feet carrying them to the starting blocks. Y/n did a ritual stretch down, tapping the tops of their toes with their hands before bending down to place their feet in the right position. Glancing up to the sky, Y/n said in their head, “please, give me this one moment.” Tucking their chin into their chest, Y/n waiting with anticipation like everyone else in the world watching.

It was like time slowed. “Set.” Their knees lifted off the track.

*Pop* the sound of the gun and Y/n catapulted off the blocks. Their eyes never faltered as they ahead at the track and let their legs do the work. In their peripheral they saw their opponents, the space between them slowly decreasing by the second as they pulled into the final stretch. Coming around the corner there was no one in Y/n’s sight. The finish line drew closer. Y/n didn’t know if they were in the lead by a long shot or if it was only a nanosecond.

Their heart pounded in their chest, sweat dripping from their forehead. Heaved breaths left their mouth and Y/n could feel her bad knee start to burn. But they pushed and they pushed.

All Y/n knew as they crossed the finish line was the world record flashed and their eyes snapped to the board which resulted in them screaming. As the announcer yelled through the coms, “WORLD RECORD!!” Y/n fell to their knees in tears.

#1 Y/N L/N—USA 47.50 (WR, OR)

Below their name were spots 2-8. And not only did Y/n just take the gold in their last individual event, but they also broke the World and Olympic records. Records that had been set for decades.

When Y/n finally lifted their head they were met with beaming faces of their competitors. They all congratulated the athlete, some hugging and patting their back. The world record sign was still flashing and Y/n felt another wave of emotion. This time they ran to their coach, aware the cameraman was keeping up with them to get a close look for the viewers at home.

Y/n could only imagine what it was like in Fightertown.

The second the athletes were lining up, Coyote yelled, “Everybody shut up!!” Silence filled the building, everyone’s focus on their respected screen. “Set.” *Pop* The racers were off and the commentators were already speaking frantically. “Great start off the blocks for L/n, coming around on the first turn neck and neck with the athlete from the Bahamas. Jamaica and Great Britain are not too far as they take on the long stretch of the track.”

“Go! Go!” People started to scream. Bob was biting his nails, Rooster was gripping his beer bottle. Hangman and Coyote were already off of their seats, “C’mon, Y/n! You got this!” It got louder as they approached the final turn.

“L/n is starting to pull a lead as they come up the turn, but the Bahamas are right there—this was the moment L/n’s Olympic dreams were shattered in Rio—O-oh! L/n has overtaken the Bahamas—they’ve got a huge gap as they pull into the final stretch! Oh my God we could be witnessing history—L/n is .10ths of a second ahead of the World Record and increasing their lead ahead of the others by an outstanding margin!”

“Let’s go!!!” The commentators' words were barely there as it competed with the uproar of spectators in the Hard Deck. Everyone was pretty much out of their seats and jumping as they watched Y/n’s lead increase with each step to the finish line. “You’re almost there!! Go! Go! Go!”

Then it exploded.

“THEY’VE DONE IT! Y/N L/n has won the gold for America!! They smashed the Olympic record and set the World record for the 400m dash by .10 of a second at these Olympic Games in Tokyo!”

“OH MY GOD!!!” Phoenix and several others screamed. She and Halo embraced in a hug with Nat covering her mouth to hold back her emotion when the screen showed Y/n screaming out to the sky before falling to their knees. The guys were all jumping around, Rooster and Payback embraced in a side hug, pulling Jake who was pretty much in tears as he watched the display of his partner.

“After heartbreak four years ago in Rio that put them out of a chance for the gold, Y/n L/n has come out on top in Tokyo. They can finally add Olympic Champion to their name as well as Olympic and World record holder of the 400m dash. In what could be the last time we see Y/n L/n in an Olympic Games, they have achieved what they set out to do since their debut in Beijing 13 years ago. What a stunning finish to a beautiful Olympic career in the sport of track and field.”

Y/n’s parents were clenched in each other’s arms, eyes rimmed as their own tears poured. They were filled with so much happiness for their child and wished nothing more to be in the crowd and share this moment with them. At the bar top Warlock, Hondo, and Maverick were high-fiving while Cyclone clapped along with a smile. Penny rang the bell simply to join the cheers.

It was truly spectacular to witness. The slow motion replay was on the screen followed by the Y/n’s reaction when they looked up to find their name on the board. The cheers kept going and only started to quiet down when TV showed the athlete in their post race interview. “Y/n, what a night here tonight. Congratulations are in store, you have not only taken an individual gold but also the World record—and the Olympic record! It’s your fourth medal in these Games, the first gold—how are you feeling right now after this victory?”

Everyone hushed to listen, but were grinning wide and some were wiping away tears. Y/n’s face was flushed, still coming off of the high of what had just happened. “O-oh I can’t even put it into words how I’m feeling right now,” there was a slight sniff, Y/n using their finger to wipe their face but was careful not to let the material of the American flag draped around their shoulders touch their skin.

“This is a dream come true. It has been a long journey to get here and I-I am so honored to have been a part of this team for as long as I have. You know after the 100 & 200 I didn’t want to have my hopes too high because as you can see anything can happen in these Games,” Y/n chuckled, eyes glossy, “I think I may have actually blacked out on the last stretch. I just kept my focus on the finish line and was just as amazed to see I had broken the records.”

The title card on the screen now showed: Y/n L/n, Gold Medalist, 400m (WR, OR: 47.50).

“Your friends and family have all gathered in San Diego—they’re watching right now and we actually got footage of their reaction to your win tonight. We’d love to show you if you like.”

“Oh God please,” Y/n was already giggling. The assistant brought over an ipad with a video and pressed play. On the tv screens the image split to show the video beside Y/n’s face to capture their own reaction. They saw the daggers squad in front of the bar while their superiors including Maverick were seated at the bar top. They were all surrounded by servicemen and women as well as civilians. Y/n teared up when they spotted their parents near Jake. By the end of it Y/n was basically crying while laughing. “Oh my God, that is amazing. I wish they could’ve been in the stands. I know my parents are probably thinking how the one time they can’t see me compete in person is when I win.”

The reporter laughed along with them. “I know I gotta let you go cause you’re set to race the relay in less than an hour and the podium ceremony is about to start, but before you go I just want to ask if this is the last time we’ll see you after these Games conclude Sunday night.”

Y/n softly smiled to the reporter, bottom lip slightly trembling, “uhh, you know I wasn’t completely sure. Since Rio I’ve had some troubles with my knee after the torn ACL—I almost wasn’t sure about these Games until 2018. I’ve been talking to Allison Felix these past couple days, since this is gonna be her last Games. Her and I have been part of Team USA for 13 years now and she’s become not only a mentor but a friend to me and i’m going to miss seeing her at competitions. I know I plan to do the 2022 season—especially the Worlds. Paris is only three-years away,” they shrugged, like they were considering it, “I’ll be thirty-four when it comes around so it’s really gonna come down to how I’m feeling after 2022.”

“Well I hope to see you again in Paris, but if not then it was truly a pleasure watching you these years. You’ve been an inspiration to many watching back home in the States. Congratulations again on this win and we can’t wait to see you bring it in the relays. Good luck again tonight.”

“Thank you so so much. I appreciate it and much love to everyone back home—thank you for all the support, especially my mom and dad, my coach, and my friends in Fightertown who I know are probably losing their minds. I love you all and I couldn't have got this gold without each and every one of you. Thank you,” Y/n shakes their hand and blows a kiss to the camera before following the volunteer to locker rooms to change for the podium ceremony.

Just like in London, Y/n was nearly a mess on the podium when the gold medal was presented to them. Per covid regulations, the athlete had to place it around their own neck instead of how it was at previous games with someone else doing the honor. Still, it held everything to Y/n.

They were an Olympic champion.

Tears streaked their face when the national anthem played and when it concluded Y/n kissed the medal and waved to the crowd of spectators that included the media and athletes from other countries. The rest of Team USA’s track athletes were there too, cheering the loudest as some of them have been Y/n’s teammates for over a decade. After pictures with the other medalists Y/n was rushed to get ready for the relay that was to start in 20 minutes. At the Hard Deck it was an emotional scene watching the podium ceremony. Jake and Nat were embraced, looking on with glossy eyes while everyone beamed at the screen. Y/n’s parents were with them too. It was bittersweet.

20 minutes later they were in cheers once again when Team USA took the silver in the 4x100m relay. Y/n kick started it off like they did in London, but this time fell short to second place by a smudge. It still was a celebration with Y/n adding another silver medal to their personal Tokyo medal count. It was passed one in the morning in Tokyo when Y/n FaceTimed Jake after the podium ceremony. They were met with shouts of joy from everyone in proximity that it was hard to even make out the individual voices.

“You fucking did it!!”

“Congratulations, Lightning McQueen, you were amazing!”

“Holy shit, Olympic gold!”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Y/n. I wish I could hug you right now.”

The call was brief but wholesome with Y/n thanking the entire squad for their support and they loved watching their reaction to the race. Jake spoke on behalf of the others with the promise to celebrate the second Y/n returned to San Diego in three days. After goodbyes and a quick chat with their parents, Y/n ended the call to get much needed sleep for their final race the next day. The Hard Deck cleared out soon after with many calling it a day.

It was the same scene the next morning at 5:30 am to watch the final of the 4x400m relay. “It is the final day in these Olympic Games after a spectacular two weeks in Tokyo. Many firsts have been made. There are just a few events to get through tonight before closing ceremonies tomorrow evening. All eyes are now on the finals of the 4x400m relay. And boy is there a lineup tonight with the Americans looking to defend with a seventh-straight title.”

“It’s going to be an interesting finals tonight, Mark. Like you mentioned, the US have retained the title of Olympic champions in this event since the 1996 Games in Atlanta. They are unstoppable and this is the first time Y/n L/n is part of the group. They won the gold in London for the 4x100 and just last night took silver in the event. Four years ago in Rio they were set to be on both the 4x100 and 4x400, but after a tragic semi finals that ended with a torn ACL, L/n had to pull out of Games.”

On the screen the team was announced with all four athletes appearing from the side. Together they did a little dance for the cameras before going to the track. “I’m interested to see how L/n does tonight and if they can pull through. This event is truly a team effort and unlike last night, L/n is set to anchor the Americans in the final pass rather than starting. They just won the gold in the 400m last night in a stunning record breaking finish—I’m still in disbelief.”

The Hard Deck painted a familiar picture as the previous morning. The Daggers were on the edge of their seats when the race started and Penny stopped taking orders when the third pass began. The camera was split to show Y/n taking their spot on the track to await the baton. Then the screen went back to one when the American came up on the last turn. “Here comes the final pass of the bottom in the final leg of this 4x400 relay. Poland and Jamaica are not far behind, but the Americans have given Y/n L/n a lead—and there they go! Beautiful pass from teammate to teammate and Y/n L/n is off to hopefully bring the US their seventh consecutive gold.”

“C’mon, baby, let’s go!!” Jake yelled, the others echoing his cheers. At the bar patrons were clapping the surface.

“They’re gonna get it—look at the lead!”

“It’s not over yet.”

“Let’s go, Y/n, you’re almost there!” The athlete increased the distance between them and the polish on the stretch coming into the final turn. The cheers got louder and louder with many already celebrating when it was obvious the Polish were not gonna catch up. The announcers knew it too.

“Poland has overtaken Jamaica but it will not be enough for Olympic glory—Y/n L/n has increased the margin their teammates had given them and has no doubt secured them the gold! All there is left to do is cross the finish line and the Americans have done it again! L/n has finished the job and given Team USA their seventh straight gold medal in the 4x400m relay!!” The last line was in tune with Y/n crossing the finish line. A large smile plastered on their face as a cry of joy left them that the camera managed to capture. Their teammates met them in the middle with the four embracing in cheers.

The Hard Deck exploded again when Y/n crossed the finish line, matching their reaction as though they were the ones who just won the gold for their country. They couldn’t wait for Tuesday when Y/n came home and they could celebrate the big wins together. Jake was really excited especially after having a heart-to-heart with Y/n’s father. The ring was safely tucked away in his suitcase as a reminder of what he had planned for his Olympian.

The rest of the daggers, including Mav and Hondo ended up staying an extra hour after the podium ceremony to celebrate their friend. Many were still in disbelief, but filled with absolute joy. Who wouldn’t really? They had just witnessed their friend win their sixth medal in a single Olympics. Something uncommon for even athletes who qualify for multiple events.

But Y/n did it.

They left Tokyo with two bronze, two silver, and two gold. In four Olympics Y/n started from a single bronze in their debut to their first team gold in London, leaving with nothing in Rio to finally medaling in every event they raced in Tokyo. Their first individual gold after thirteen years of hard work and dedication to rise to the top since they sat in the stands of the Centennial Olympic Stadium.

It was a golden end to an Olympic dream 25 years in the making.

Or so they thought…..

When the stars painted Paris on the night of August 11th, 2024, the final night of the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, Y/n L/n waved to the crowd in a bittersweet goodbye as they wore the Stars and Stripes one final time. It was hard to hear over the roar of spectators from all over the world. Not a single seat had been empty for the final race of Y/n L/n’s career. Athletes from other disciplines attended, some in tears by the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

“It is an emotional scene here tonight in the Stade de France as we say goodbye to Y/n L/n of the United States. There isn’t a dry eye in sight as spectators and athletes from around the globe watch the five-time Olympian take their final bow after winning the gold with the Americans in the 4x400m relay in their eighth consecutive title. In what could be described as the greatest Olympic run a track athlete has ever done, Y/n L/n has achieved the impossible in Paris with six gold medals in six events. Never has an Olympian taken the gold in the 100, 200, 400m, and all three team relays in a single Olympics, but Y/n L/n has made history. They are also the second Olympian and only American to win gold in the 100, 200, and 400m in a single Olympic Games.”

Y/n walked the track with a cameraman following them, hand that was not waving patting their chest where their heart laid. The hand now had a gold wedding band and Tokyo XXXII and Paris XXXIII added to the bicep tattoo. Y/n’s teammates that they just won the gold with had stood to the side, clapping with the crowd with American flags draped around their shoulder and tears cascading their cheeks.

Y/n finally made it to the section where the majority of Americans who had traveled from the States were seated in a sea of red, white, and blue. Y/e/c went straight to the front few rows and were immediately met with the sight of not only their parents beaming faces, but the ones of their closest friends. None of them were hiding their emotion. Phoenix was embraced by Rooster, the two wiping away at their faces as was Bob. Fanboy and Coyote were teary eyed while Payback just nodded with a bright grin, bringing his fingers up to whistle. Even Maverick, who was now retired from the Navy, was in attendance looking like a proud father.

And Jake? Jake was a mess.

His green eyes were pretty much bloodshot but there was love and admiration in his gaze. His own wedding band reflected under the stadium lights and he made the motion of catching the kiss Y/n blew to him before placing it on his heart. All he wanted to do was jump over the railing and hug his spouse, but unfortunately that would have to wait until after the podium ceremony.

The extinguishing of the Olympic torch at the closing ceremonies would signal the start of Y/n’s retirement from the world of athletics. It would close one chapter, but the other was still in progress. There was still time for them to be the best of the best in terms of naval aviators. They were not even halfway into their Naval career.

And they were totally up for the challenge, because nothing is impossible when going for the gold.

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maxiel01 · 5 months

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Top Gun Maverick - New Blood

Pairing: eventually Bradley Bradshaw x female reader, Pete Mitchell x female redader (parental figure)

Summary: When Lieutenant Y/N Y/LN is called for a special mission to Top Gun, she doesn´t hesitate a second. After her last deployment, she is longing for friendship and finding a family. Will it happen? Or will she be alone again?

TW: not much yet, potentionally mental health issues, anxiety, panic attacks, angst, inaccurately described military environment

Lenght of this chapter: 3868 words

AN: Hey guys! So here we go, the first chapter. Hope you will like it and once again, be aware of potential grammar mistakes. Also, any form of constructive criticism is always welcomed. Have a great day and enjoy!

1st Chapter

You woke up feeling not very well rested, which immediately put you into a bad mood. It was one of the few nights you could sleep in your comfy bed, and you didn’t enjoy it. You did your hygiene routine and made your way out of the apartment. You must have looked funny, you had a backpack on and two big military bags, each of them on one of your shoulders. After a few minutes of walking, you made it to the train station, you bought a ticket to San Diego and went on your way. After almost three hours, you were in San Diego. There you caught a bus that would take you the closest to Miramar. That took another hour or so. In the bus, you started hating yourself for not buying a lunch to go. Then it was about 40 minutes of walking to the base. When you finally arrived at the reception, they took all of your documents, gave you a special tag and a card and let you go inside. You were given instructions of where to go and to whom you should report yourself.

You made your way through the huge building and finally found an office where was written Adm. Simpson, Adm. Bates. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Come in!” someone shouted from inside the office. You took another deep breath and opened the door. You stood just behind the door in an attention position. “Lt. Y/N Y/LN sir. I’m here because of the special mission.” you said clearly and hoped that you did everything right. “Of course, please take a seat Lt.” said one of them, and you immediately put the bags and backpack down and sat on the chair in front of their table. “You are here just in time, we had to move things forward a little, so tomorrow you are starting a course for this mission. You’ve been called here for a special secret mission, Lt. You were called here on a special request of Admiral Kazansky. As we already said, you are starting tomorrow, you will be living in one of the off-base houses, because we don’t have any room available on base. Someone will take you there after we finish here. Your clothes and helmet will be ready for tomorrow, please come here in your normal civil clothes, and you will be given your flight suit before the flying lesson, we had some malfunctions so you will have to sit through a theoretical lesson in your everyday clothes. That’s all for now, we will see you tomorrow. You are dismissed.” said almost in one breath Admiral Simpson, which you found out, during his monologue, was called Cyclone, the other one, Admiral Bates had a patch with Warlock written on it, that must be the man you spoke to over the phone. “Thank you, sir.” You said and slowly rose to your feet.

“Hondo will take you to your house, he should be waiting outside this room as we speak.” smiled slightly Warlock as you nodded at him. Then you took your bags off the floor and made your way out of the room. There really was a man standing, looking like he was waiting for someone. “Excuse me sir.” you started, not knowing his ranks or name, apart from his call sign. He immediately snapped his head in your direction and kindly smiled. “Finally, someone who can smile normally and doesn’t look like he is going to kill me any moment.” you thought to yourself. “You must be Moonfoot right? Or should I call you Lt. Y/LN?” he asked as he came closer to you. You returned his smile. “Moonfoot is okay, sir.” he suddenly shook his head slightly. “Oh, please don’t call me sir, just call me Hondo, that’s a whole lot better, and now let’s go, I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time, I arrived not so long ago as well and need to find my housing too.” he smiled and motioned to you to follow him outside. “You have your own car?” he suddenly asked. “No, I don’t. I just came home from a deployment, so having a car wasn’t on my agenda yet.” you answered honestly. “Well, that might be a bit of a problem, though, since you won’t be living on base.” he said. “I will make it work, at least I hope so…if it’s not going to be too far, I will just walk.” you said, as you came outside through a different door then you entered before. “Don’t worry, we will think of something, now come on, this is my car, let’s go.” he pointed at his car, which was a normal jeep. He drove for about 20 minutes when you arrived in a small neighborhood. It was looking kinda nice, all of the houses looked the same and weren’t very big, but it would be just enough. You could see the ocean in the distance, which was nice as well.

“There is mainly families of the soldiers or staff from the base living, I think that some of your fellow pilots might live somewhere here, that would be good for you, because you could always catch a ride with someone.” he said as he slowly stopped his car. “We are here, now just a good advice, if you like and don’t mind walking, when you walk down this hill and then about 20 minutes left on the beach you will arrive at the Hard Deck. That’s a bar, and basically everyone from the base will be there at some point. Some of your colleagues might be there today as well, so if you want to make friends, that’s yours go to place.” he said and helped you with your bags. He then put a set of keys from his pocket and opened the front door. “It’s not much, you have a living room, kitchen, and a bathroom on this floor and then upstairs one bathroom and two rooms. I’m really sorry, but I have to go now. Good luck tomorrow.” he then said, and before you could have thanked him or say anything in return, he was out and driving his car away.

“That went rather well.” you said to yourself as you made your way up the stairs to your room. It was cozy, there weren´t many things, the walls were plain, and you were thinking of keeping it that way. At least for now, since you didn’t even know for how long you will live here. The room was simple, a bed, table, and a wardrobe. You didn’t really need anything else since you will be coming here probably only to sleep. When you put your bags away, you went back downstairs to the kitchen. It was fully equipped, but there wasn’t any food. You weren’t really in a mood for shopping, so you thought that you will just order something when a call interrupted you. You sighed when it was another unknown number. Your anxiety was really playing games with you those past few days. You took a deep breath and answered it. You were now smarter than yesterday, so you answered more professionally.

“Lt. Y/LN speaking, how can I help you.” you said and waited for someone to speak. “Lt. Y/Ln is nice to hear you, this is Admiral Kazansky.” came an automatic voice, like from a computer, from the phone. You were in shock, the one man who requested you on this mission was calling you now. “What the hell is going on.” you thought to yourself. “How can I help you, sir?” you asked, hoping you didn’t disrespect him or something. “I would like to meet you in person before your mission starts tomorrow, could you make your way over to an address if I send you one?” he asked, and you were in shock once again. “O-Of course, sir, that wouldn’t be a problem.” you answered. “Okay, that’s great, I will send you the address and I hope that you will be able to make it to 3PM.” he said. “I will do my best, sir.” you honestly answered. “Well, that would be all for now, Lt., I will see you later today. Goodbye for now.” he fared welled. “Of course, sir, goodbye” you returned the farewell and put your phone down.

“What the fuck is going on.” you asked yourself and then smiled. Admiral Kazansky, someone you knew only from stories and basically legends, wanted to see you. You couldn’t even believe it. Then came a notification from your phone. You picked it up again and there was the address he was talking about. You immediately put it into your maps and found out that it’s about 30 minutes’ walk. Since it was already 2PM you decided to change your clothes and then slowly start walking towards the address. When it was about 2:45PM you were already there. You didn’t want to seem too eager or something, so you just waited for about 10 minutes, when suddenly the doors to the house opened.

“Oh, you must be Y/N right? Tom said that you were coming over this afternoon. Why are you waiting here, honey? You could have just knocked and entered. Come on, let’s go inside.” said a woman that opened the door. “Oh, I’m sorry, my name is Sarah, I’m Tom’s wife.” she suddenly said, probably seeing your confused face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kazansky.” you said and offered her your hand. “Oh no, no, please don’t call me Mrs. Kazansky, it makes me feel old. Call me Sarah, okay?” she immediately said and instead of a handshake brought you into a hug. It was a nice feeling, you weren’t hugged in a really long time, but you slowly pulled out. “Well, Tom is waiting in the living room, so you can go there. Would you like something to drink? Maybe a tea or coffee?” She asked when she pointed at the direction of the living room. “Um, if you have a ginger tea or peppermint that would be amazing, but I really don’t want to cause any problems Mrs. Oh I mean Sarah.” You spoke. “That’s a nonsense, I will prepare you peppermint and ginger tea, okay? I will bring it to you with Tom’s tea as well.” She smiled again and disappeared into, what you assumed, was the kitchen.

You looked around for a bit. There were a lot of frames with pictures of children, Admiral Kazansky and also Sarah. There were a few with other naval aviators as well. You didn’t want to look around for too long, so you quietly made your way to where you assume would be the living room. When you reached the room, you knocked on the door frame, because the doors were opened. You then heard a hum of acknowledgement and slowly went inside.

“Admiral, sir, you wanted to see me. I’m Lt. Y/LN.” you said in a straight voice but with a bit of a smile. The man who was sitting there looked friendly. He just smiled at you and motioned to the seat across from him on the sofa. You quickly made your way over there and sat down. “Please let’s cut the formalities, I’m Iceman, or Tom, whatever you prefer. And you must be Y/N right?” you heard coming from somewhere in the room. You must have had a confused face because suddenly you heard another sentence. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just my computer system, talking hurts these days, so I will use this form of communication.” it said, and you just smiled at him.

“Okay, that’s alright, whatever is best for you and yes, I’m Y/N” you added. “Wonderful, you are probably wondering why you are here, right?” he asked. “Well to be honest, I’m a little curious yes.” you said and chuckled. He laughed a bit as well. "Ask away then...I guess you have a lot of questions about why you are here and so on." the AI´s voice beckoned you. "Alright, well, why me? I mean Admiral Sympson told me that I´m here only because of you, they wouldn´t even think of me, but for some reason you did. And if I´m right, that might not be that case, but still, all of the others will be probably more experienced and graduates from Top Gun, right?" you said in one breath and made an eye contact with him.

He sighed a bit and began writing on his computer. After a little while, the voice started talking again. "Yes, you are here because I requested you. Why did I request you? Because I think and believe that you are an exceptional pilot and WSO. There isn´t many people who managed to be a WSO and a pilot. You are the only one in California right now." the voice ended, and you smiled a bit. When you looked over at Iceman, he was smiling as well.

"Okay, thank you, but I still don´t understand this. The others, they are Top Gun graduates, right? I didn´t even get an invitation." you pondered. "That is true. But you didn´t receive an invitation to Top Gun because you made the decision to rather pursuit a pilot degree. And now I´m asking you, would you rather go to Top Gun as WSO and never become a fighter pilot, or never went into Top Gun, but become a fighter pilot hm?" the voice said again before you even realized that Iceman had been typing on his computer again.

"I guess I would still choose the fighter pilot degree." you smiled. "That´s what I thought, and please don´t forget that you have one confirmed air kill, not many people in your age group have that." he added. "That´s true yeah, but it was only because the other guy..." you wanted to continue but the AI´s voice cut you right off. "No, you made the shot because you are an amazing pilot and WSO, and that´s the reason why you are here. You are exceptional pilot and even better WSO. I honestly think that you will be an amazing addition to the team we came up with."

Suddenly there was another knock on the door frame. Both, you and Iceman snapped your heads in that direction. There stood Sarah with a tray on which there were two mugs with a hot tea. "I´m sorry to interrupt you, but I have the teas ready." Sarah kindly smiled and made her way over to you. "There you go sweetie." she said and gave one of the mugs to your side of the coffee table. "Thank you very much." you said and took a sip of the ginger tea. "Honey, here´s your tea." she told her husband and both of them smiled at each other. You just looked at them. It was very clear that they were so in love with each other, and you could just hope that some time you will find someone who will love you as much as Iceman loved his wife.

"Sweetie? Will you join us for a late lunch? We didn´t have a chance of eating yet, because we had someone over before you. I´m making beef steaks and potatoes." she asked you while collecting an old mug from the table. You nervously looked at him and then back at Sarah. "I don´t know, I really don´t want to be a bother and overstay my welcome." you said after a minute. "Nonsense, you wouldn´t be overstaying anything. Besides, you probably didn´t have a chance of eating today, right? From what I´ve heard, you came today from LA and just moved to the off-base house and there isn´t anything to eat for sure." came again the AI´s voice from somewhere. "Look, we won´t force you, of course, but it would be nice if you stayed. The kids are still at their after-school clubs, so it will be just us." continued Sarah. "Well, if it´s really okay, then I guess a homemade meal would serve me good." You said, and that made Sarah and Iceman chuckle. "Okay, that´s what I like to hear. It should be ready in a minute. So, if you could make your way to the dining room." she proceeded to say and left the living room. When she was out of the room, Iceman continued through his computer.

"I just wanted to say. Look, I don´t want this to sound weird or be uncomfortable for you, but it came to my attention that you don´t have any friends or family here in the States with you. Is that correct?" he bluntly asked, which shocked you. "I mean yes, that is true, yeah." You said after the shock disappeared a bit. "I can´t tell you much, but this mission will be a lot harder than any of those you had to do before. I´m more than convinced that you will be able to do it, either as a pilot or as a WSO, I don´t see a reason why you should fail. It will be hard for you though because you will have to fly twice as much as the others. One exercise as a pilot and also as a WSO, which in the long run will put you in a position where it would become an advantage. But you can´t be alone for this. I know that after what happened to you in Mali, it might be hard to trust other people, but sometimes you just need to try it. Your instructor is one of the closest people of mine. Don´t hesitate to ask him anything, he is there to teach you, he is there for you. Sometimes he can be a little cocky and rough, but it´s all in the best way. He wants you to be able to complete the mission and come back home. Those people, who were selected alongside you, were always told that they are the best of the best, some of them are cocky bastards, but that´s how it is. But there are a few people who you should definitely befriend. I know that I´m in no position to give you advices in your personal life and I really shouldn´t tell you this, but trust me Bradley Bradshaw, his call sign is Rooster, Natasha Trace, call sign Phoenix and Robert Floyd, call sign Bob, are the way to go." the voice from his computer finished as you looked at him in disbelief.

You chuckled a bit and didn´t really know what to say. "I know that this is a lot, and I may have overstepped here a bit, but I just wanted to give you a little heads up. And also, me and Sarah both, we´ve been talking, and we know how family is important, and that it doesn´t matter if it´s by blood or not. If you ever needed someone, someone to talk to, someone to hug or even just a shoulder to cry on. We are here for you. You now know where we live, and I want you to use this knowledge every time you need, okay?" he reassured you and smiled. You were now having tears in your eyes, but weren´t letting them fall. "I don´t know what to do...I... thank you so much. I would hug you right now, but we know each other for just a half an hour so..." you trailed off, just as he stood up and hugged you.

You were caught off guard and that made some of the tears fall. You were silently crying into his shoulder as he was patting your back. "I´m sorry, I just, no one told me this for such a long time and it...I´m just so sorry." you said after you finished the hug. He just knowingly smiled and wanted to type something into his computer when Sarah´s voice stopped him.

"The lunch is ready!" she shouted from the kitchen, so you and Iceman just looked at each other and made your way out.

After an amazing lunch, that you surely needed, it was already about 4:30 PM as you were preparing to leave the Kazansky household. "Wait a minute, sweetie." came Sarah when you were on your way to the front door. "Tom would like to tell something real quick." she added. You nodded at her and went back to the living room.

"I´m sorry to keep you here, but I just wanted to finish what we started before lunch. There is this bar, it´s called The Hard Deck, and a lot of people from the base will be there tonight, well every night, but tonight especially, there will be some of your colleagues from the special deployment. I think that you should go there. At least to look over the people. And if there won´t be anyone friendly, you would, at least, meet Penny. Penny Benjamin is the owner of the bar, and she is really kind. It certainly wouldn´t hurt to have her in your corner." he finished and looked expectantly at you. You just sighed and that made him frown. "Come on, please promise me that you will go there." he continued. After a minute of hesitation, his voice came again.

"You know, I´m higher in the ranks than you, I could just order you to go there." he said and laughed. "Okay, okay...I promise I will go there and try to make friends." you told him with a chuckle. "Wonderful, well I won´t hold you anymore. Have a great time tonight, and if you need something, just call me or Sarah or just come here. The doors are always opened." he finished, and you quickly hugged him again. You fared welled him as well and made your way back to the front door where Sarah was patiently waiting for you.

"Honey, I know what Tom has been talking to you about, and I just wanted to make sure, that you know that it´s true. We will always be there for you, okay? If you need anything, and it could be as small as just to talk or hug, we are here." she said and pulled you into a hug. "I know Sarah, and I really, really appreciate it. Thank you so much. It´s nice to know that I have someone in my corner." you smiled at her when you stopped hugging. "I have to go now though, I promised Tom that I will go to The Hard Deck, so..." you trailed off, which made her laugh. "Of course, go and have fun, you are young only once. And please tell Penny that I say hi, will you?" she said after opening the doors for you. “Of course, Sarah. Thank you so much once again. Have a great evening." you said and made your way out of the door.

You turned around once more and quickly waved at her. Then you pulled out your phone and saw that there was one unread message. You clicked to open it and laughed. It was from Iceman, and it read: "And don´t try anything. I will know if you were there or not." and a blinking emoji.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #dagger squad #bob floyd #phoenix top gun #jake hangman seresin #tom iceman kazansky #carole bradshaw #penny benjamin

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roosterscockpit · 1 year

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His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x reader P. 26

click here for the master list

Hi, my lovelies! I just want to reiterate that I am so thankful you are all still here reading my story! I love you all sooo much! You mean the world to me 😭 Sorry if there's has been some boring parts 🥺 I promise these context chapters will make sense later 😭 Happy reading and enjoy! 💕

A/n: It's almost been a week and a half since you and Leia have seen Bradley. One of your besties tries to help you come up with a solution 😉

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: cursing, some anger, teasing but as usual LOVEE 🫶🏼

Please don't take my work, I will find you.

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A week and a half have passed since you came home from Legoland. Bradley has been working the past 9 days straight so you hadn’t seen him. You and Leia were building some of the Lego sets that you and Bradley had got for her at the park. You heard the door open. You looked at the clock and it was 3 PM. That meant Bri was home.

Bri called out, “I’m home! Billy and Austin are with me!”

Leia’s eyes lit up. “AUSTIN!!” She ran to him and jumped into his arms. You got up and went to go and greet everyone. Bri gave you a hug, and Billy hugged you and kissed your head. Austin tried to hug you the best he could he was holding Leia, so he kissed your cheek.

Austin brought Leia back to the table and set her down, “How was Legoland, Darlin? It’s been a minute.” She started to show him all her sets and the two little mini figures that you and Bradley made for her. “Wow, that’s so cool, sweetheart. Did you have fun?” He patted her head.

Leia nodded, “I had so much fun! Bradley’s friends rode all the rides with me!”

“Bradley?” Austin said slowly and looked at you concerned.

You sighed and bit your lip. Austin brought his attention back to Leia.

“Yea! But, Bagman and Bob got really sick so they couldn’t ride anymore. So in the end I had to ride with Warlock, Cyclone, Hondo, and the Dog guy!” She leaned over the table with excitement.

Austin furrowed his brows, “Bagman and Bob were sick. So you rode with Warlock, Cyclone, Hondo, and a dog?” He said slowly questioning Leia but looking at you.

“Oh, I mean Coyote! That was his name!” She nodded.

“Oh, Coyote.” He smiled at Leia.

She looked at him with so much excitement, “It’s their callsigns! Like Papa Mav! His real name is Pete!”

“Huh. That’s a lot of people to remember, sweetheart.” He laughed and messed up Leia’s hair. He looked over at her lego sets again, “Can I help you build your favorite set?” She looked at you with wide curious eyes.

You smiled at Leia, “He can help you, my love. I have to get dinner started anyway.” You gave your pieces to Austin and proceeded to the kitchen.

Austin rubbed his index knuckle on Leia’s cheek, “Hang on, sweetheart. I’m just gonna catch up with mom, okay? Don’t start without me.” He pointed his finger at her before he came to you.

You were looking in the pantry for something to make for everyone, “Hey sweetheart. That was a lot of gibberish to me. But I think I understood what she was getting at.” He laughed, “But, how did it go with, Bradley? After the banquet and Legoland?”

“Callsigns Austin, They can get confusing, but you’ll get the hang of it. Like Nat is Phoenix.” You laughed and patted his chest.

He laughed, “Yea, you’re right.”

You grabbed for the Mac and cheese boxes, “But, it went very well. Leia and I slept over at his house after the banquet and then the next day we went to Legoland.” You turned and gave him the boxes.

He smiled and took them, “Talk later about it then? I need to hear all the details.” He winked at you and placed the boxes on the counter and returned his gaze to you.

“Yes, later.” You smiled at him.

“I love seeing you like this, y/n. Happy. It looks really good on you.” He patted your arm and went back to build with Leia. Billy joined them and Leia gave him a big kiss on his cheek. “Uncle look what I got!” She started to show him everything she got in Legoland.

Billy was amazed by all of Leia’s toys, “Oh my gosh, bun! These are so cool!”

You started to rip open the Mac and Cheese boxes. Bri came and helped you make dinner. She started to prep some chicken. She bumped your hip with hers. You turned and she gave you a hug.

“Sooooo? Anything yet? Has he come over today to see you girls yet? How has it been with your baby daddy? Him and Leia bonding well?”

You continued to make the Mac and cheese, “They’ve bonded very well, but she still hasn’t been able to see him for the past week and a half.”

Bri slammed the chicken down and looked at you annoyed, “Why?” She looked unamused. “I do not need him to not only hurt you, but now her. I will kick his fucking ass. I’ve already warned him.”

You put your hand up and shushed her. You leaned into her ear, “Don’t cause a scene in front of Leia, please. He’s working. You know he’s trying. You said it yourself.” You walked to the refrigerator to get the milk.

She came up next to you, “Yea, but he does not work 24 hours a day, y/n. The first couple of days? Okay cool. A week. Still okay, but questionable. Almost 2 weeks? That's fucking weird.”

You scoffed, “Bri, stop. I understand where you’re coming from. I really do. But I know he will come when he has time. He is still adjusting.”

She gave you another hug, “I just don’t want to see you and Leia hurt.”

You pulled back and put your hands on her shoulders, “I know, thank you so much. For everything, Bri. Seriously.”

She nodded at you, “I’d do anything for you and Leia.” You smiled at her. You both continue to cooking. Then she leaned into you again. “Well, how are you and Darth Vader doing?” She nodded in his direction. You looked over at him and he was smiling at you. You turned back to Bri and she winked at you.

You rolled your eyes, “I love Austin. He is a great catch, but I don’t want him in that way. He’s a really good friend.” You looked at him again and he was playing with Leia and her legos.

“He’s here nearly every other day if not every day, but I totally get it. You’re in love with the captain. But, I think Leia really likes him, y/n. She gets so happy and excited when he’s here.” She whispered in your ear and then pulled away to put the chicken in the oven.

You looked at Leia and Austin from the corner of your eye while you finished with the food. She did look pretty happy with Austin. They were like best friends. She was always so happy to see him. You were sure eventually after she got used to Bradley she would be the same with him.

Austin came back over to you and rested his hands on the counter, “Hey babe, you need any help?” He leaned on the counter and let out a sigh.

You looked at him and shook your head, “No I think I’ve got it. Thank you… babe.” You laughed and started to pick up the pot of Mac and cheese and he grabbed it from you.

“I will take it to the table, Just bring a rag to put under so it doesn’t burn the surface.” He turned around and walked away before you could answer.

You went and grabbed a rag from the drawer and laid it onto the table. He set the pot down and patted you on the back, “Wow, we make a pretty good team.” You laughed at him sarcastically.

Leia propped herself onto the table, “I think you guys make the best team, momma! You guys are like Ben Solo and Rey!” She wiggled her eyebrows at you two.

Austin raised his eyebrows, “Ben Solo and Rey? The girl that formed a dyad in the force so she’s like one with Ben Solo?” He looked at you confused.

You nodded your head and pointed at him, “Yep, that Ben Solo and Rey.” You look around awkwardly.

“Well, okay.” He looked at Leia and shook his head at her. She looked back at him with a sly look.

Austin leaned into you, “Does anyone realize that we are just friends yet? That I know everything about Bradley?” He narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose.

“Nope, I don’t think so.” You stuck out your bottom lip and raised your brows to him.

He laughed, “$10 they never find out and just keep egging it on.”

“You’re on, Austin.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

You and Austin sat down with Leia and Billy to help with the Lego structure they were building.

Bri finally took the chicken out and set it on the table with the Mac and cheese. “Well, dinner is ready children.” As she looked at all of you sitting at the table trying to figure out how to build one of Leia’s Lego kits.

Billy waved her off, “All right thanks, babe.” He still continued to look for a piece that Austin was trying to describe to him as you and him looked at the instructions.

Bri stood there glaring at all of you. It’s as if you all felt her staring because you all looked up at the same time. She stood there just staring, no words, just blinking 100 times per minute.

Leia slowly put down her pieces, “You’re right Auntie Bri. Playtime is over.” She started to clean up the legos and you all followed her.

After dinner, Bri and Billy went to the store to get supplies for everyone to make s’mores. It was just you, Leia and Austin. The three of you went into your room and were on your bed. You sat back against your headboard. Leia laid down in between you and Austin and played with her toys. Of course, it was her R2-D2, BB-8, and her two lego figures of her. Austin laid down and supported his head up on his hand.

Leia patted your leg, “Momma, can I listen to my favorite song on your iPod?”

You nodded and she ran to your bag to get it along with the earbuds and came to lay back in between you two.

Austin patted Leia’s hair and looked at you, “So, do you want to talk about it? How it all went with, Bradley? It’s been a minute. Let’s catch up, babe.”

You sighed and smiled, “ For starters, it went very well, better than I could have imagined. He was so good with her. It’s like he just knew what to do. He wanted to do everything. I literally didn't have to do anything.” You looked at Leia she was playing with her toys again and softly singing her favorite song.

Austin smiled widely at you, “Well! That’s really good. Was it nice to have a little break?” He laughed.

You threw your head back and let out a relaxing sigh, “YES! God most definitely. He already seemed like he knew what he was doing.” You thought back about how he took such great care of Leia. “Crazy.”

Austin made himself more comfortable. He propped himself up on his forearm. He looked down at his hands and fiddled with his index fingers, “So how were you with him? Was everything okay? I remember the last time you two had a little bit of a moment. Did that continue?” He looked up at you curiously with his eyebrows raised.

You slacked your neck to look down at him while your head rested on the headboard. “It was good. It did continue. You have nothing to worry about, Aus. It’s like he’s his old self, the one before he left for his deployment came back.” You bit your lip and shook your head, “As if nothing happened, you know. It was really nice. He was super loving. Like super loving. It was like he never left.”

Austin was looking at you compassionately and chuckled, “You’re totally in love with him. You wanna marry him right now.” He poked your hip and laughed. “You can see it, when you think of him you have this blissful gaze that takes over.” He was mocking your face and putting his hands together and bringing them to his cheek, “Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw.”

You threw a pillow at him, “Shut up, Austin.”

Leia looked up at Austin with furrowed brows. He put a thumbs up to her stating it was okay. He pinched her cheek lightly and she continued to play with her toys.

He returned his attention to you. You looked at him annoyed, “I am not trying to marry Bradley Bradshaw right now.”

He gave you a cheeky look and shook his head, “I don’t know, y/n. Your body language really screams FUCK ME BRADLEY. I NEED ANOTHER LEIA.” He laughed hard, “JUST MARRY ME PLEASE!”

You lunged over your daughter and covered his mouth. He laughed hysterically into your palm. He was tearing up. Your daughter took an earbud out and looked at the two of you and shook her head. She retreated to the floor to play with her toys in peace.

“My body does not say that!” His eyes went wide and he nodded. He was still laughing at you. You removed yourself from him.

“C’mon, y/n. You told him you love him. I’m sure these past couple of weeks you’ve thought about marrying the guy.” He tried catching his breath. He sighed and examined your face, “God, sorry that was hilarious.” He looked at you seriously, “Soooo, do you? Be honest with me.”

You became tense he wasn’t wrong, “I do…” you closed your eyes and opened one slowly to see his reaction.

He was smiling at you deviously, “I told you. You do want to marry him.” He pushed your leg. “I know you all too well, y/n.” He poked his tongue into his cheek as he grinned at you.

You covered your face. He patted your leg, “So now tell me about this sleepover.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and sucked your teeth, “Nothing happened if you were wondering. After the banquet, we picked up Leia and slept. That is all.”

Austin rolled his eyes, “As if I am actually going to believe that, y/n.” He huffed, “Come on, we are adults now.”

You opened your mouth wide, “I am not lying!” You pushed him slightly, “Plus even if we were to, it’s none of your business!” You laughed.

He hummed, “Mhmm, sure, Jan. Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He laughed at you, “Isn’t this what girls do with their besties? Girl talk?” He cocked his head at you.

“Is this what that is? Girl talk?” You widened your eyes at him.

“Well yea, we are besties. I’m one of the girls now, babe.” He winked at you. “I want to know all the juicy gossip.”

You slapped his shoulder, “Well what about you and Phoenix? Huh? Let’s have some girl talk, sweetie. What about her?”

He looked at you shocked, “You mean, Trace? Oh, no nothing happened.” He waved you off and laughed, “I’ve known her forever. That would be weird. I am just her wingman on the ground.”

You shook your head, “I don’t buy it. You’re a horrible liar.”

Austin sat up and looked at you deep in thought, “Seriously, she and I are just friends. I trust her with everything like you do Bri.” He smiled at you. “Buuttttttt.”

“What?” You asked annoyingly and smiled.

“I need to hear more about how badly you wanna marry Bradley. I might have to have Trace push, Bradley.” He teased you.

You rolled your eyes, “This conversation is OVER. Austin.”

He laughed loudly, “Aww come on! Don’t be a downer!”

You got up off of your bed and walked to the bathroom, “This conversation is done. My love life is being attacked!”

“But that’s girl talk! Come on!” Austin turned to face you.

You covered your ears and went into the bathroom.

Austin knocked on the door, “Fine I am joking!”

You cracked the door and peeked through the crack at him. He held up your phone. “I think you should text him. Tell him you miss him.”

You opened the door and grabbed your phone. You rested against the door frame. “Think so? It wouldn’t be too much?”

He looked at you in disbelief, “Too much? What do you mean?”

You fiddled with your phone as you bit your lips and looked off into space.

“Do you not text him while he’s away, y/n?”

You shook your head and looked at Austin sad.

“Oh my gosh! You have to text him! Let him know you miss him and that you want to see him! Guys fucking love that shit, sweetheart!” He let out a breathy chuckle.

You just looked at Austin. He shook his head and pushed your phone closer to you. “Do it, y/n. You’ll thank me later. Trust me. I’m a guy.”

You looked at your phone and pulled up your and Bradley’s messages. You looked up at Austin and furrowed your brows. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, “Do it.”

So you texted.

Hi Bradley. I know you’ve been busy with work. I just wanted to let you know I miss and love you. I really want to see you.

You gave your phone to Austin and showed him. He took the phone from you. He looked at you annoyed and shook his head. “No, sweetheart let me help you.” He began to text.

Hey Brad. It’s been a little bit, just wondering when you would come by and see Leia and me? I hope you are doing okay. I am just worried for you. We really miss you. When I say we, I really mean I miss you so much. Could you please come over? I miss your hugs and kisses. I love you.

Without even showing you he sends it and shoves your phone into his back pocket. “You’re welcome, babe.” He grabs your hand and high fives himself and exits your room.

You stood there with your hand still up. You looked at Leia as she looked at you confused, “Austin, what did you do!?”

You could hear him laughing in the distance. “The s’mores are here!”

Your daughter took off running. “It's time for s’mores! They’re back!” She was so excited.

You took a deep breath and walked out to join everyone to make s’mores.

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I am having a little deja vu with Bradley not being around. Where ya at daddy Brad? I miss you! baby come back 😭 and what is up with Austin and Phoenix 🫣 I totally feel like he's lying. I'll see you in the next part, babes! 🫶🏼

Tags are in the comments! I hope this is somewhat helping with the tagging issues 😭

226 notes · View notes

delopsia · 1 year

Text

Don't tell me your secrets (cause I can't imagine what you'll think of mine) | Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 8,500 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, Unnamed AU involving undercover cops and the vaguest street gang of all time; I may or may not be considering expanding on this universe 💃Mentions & indications of murder, food, and alcohol. Gun usage; some characters go by callsigns rather than their names, and, as usual, ✨ unprotected sex✨ Title inspired by Secrets, from Monsta X's album, The Dreaming

"What?" You don't mean for it to come off your tongue as sharp as it does, "think you'd never run into me again?"

"No." Liar.

Robert Floyd may have had the past eleven years to work on himself, but he's still shit at concealing his emotions. Because while his voice is solid, unwavering, his eyes have gone wide, pale in the face, as if he's seen a ghost.

"I need just a few more minutes on your order, sweetie," Ms. Garcia has practically disappeared in the sea of men taking up her lobby, but her words cut through the air with perfect clarity.

You step to the left, straining to get a good look behind the counter, into the kitchen, "is Warlock still out sick?"

"Doc approved him to come back starting Monday!" Finally, you manage to catch glimpse of the little woman emerging from the kitchen with a fury in her step. Disappears right into the sea of idling men, two distinctive, familiar yelps breaking out. Not a word spoken as she drags Mickey and Reuben away from her counter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Mickey squeaks, pawing at his ear; not even the foot-and-a-half height difference can save him from her iron grasp.

As soon as she lets them go, they scatter, backing off to the far corner of the restaurant, where they should have been this whole time. You've no idea what that fiery glance entails, but you can feel the blood drain from your face, even though you're not who she's upset with.

Even after all this time, Bob shrinks under her gaze the exact same way, slinking away like a frightened dog, tail between his legs and all. He no longer trips over his own two feet as he slips behind Jake, that natural clumsiness now filed down into a calculated sharpness that you didn't know he was capable of.

...strange.

Actually, now that you glance up at Yale's missing poster...this whole situation is nothing but strange.

If Bradley or Jake have noticed it, they're pretty damn good at concealing their suspicions. Bradley still offers Bob a beer fresh out of the mini-fridge, laughs it off when he inevitably gets declined. Jake still swoops in with his favorite "looks like 'nother one for me" line. The can open and lifted to his lips before he can finish his sentence.

Bob showing up out of the blue a week after Yale got caught for being a rat? Yeah, you're not buying it. Shame, you'd hate to see another childhood friend get dragged kicking and screaming to that island just outside of Kennedy Town.

The dainty bell above the front door rings, its shrill tone jack-knifing through the restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bradley emerging into the front, stiff as a board. Expensive cologne greets your nose, carried in on the breeze that floats through the open door. There is only one man in this god-forsaken city who wears cologne that costs as much as your rent.

Maverick.

He doesn't even see you standing by the counter; eyes fixated on the group that's collected in the back corner. Hondo idles at his side, offers you the briefest smile before he goes back to looking at the menu overhead.

"Here you are!" Ms. Garcia shatters you from your thoughts, holding out a big, brown paper bag. The top folded over once, stapled in the middle, just like always.

You've almost forgotten why you were here, to begin with. The bag is heavy in your hands, nearly slips from your grasp when you're still chirping your 'thank you.' Even through the thin paper, you can already smell Natasha's order; it's going to torment you the entire drive back.

And it seems there's a line of things waiting to torment you because Maverick doesn't move out of the doorway. The only door leading out of this establishment.

"Mav," Hondo's hiss falls on deaf ears. Doesn't even evoke a twitch.

"What do you want, Pete?" Bradley croaks, eerily calm. At least he hasn't started the conversation off by yelling this time.

Maverick's jaw clenches. Never has been thrilled that Bradley refuses to call him by his chosen name. "I just want to talk."

Yeah, the array of cars pulling up outside really screams, 'I want to have a civil conversation with you.' Three cars, four, five, six, all donning the same shade of navy blue, custom painted by the shop down the street. Only the vehicles in Maverick's crew can be painted that color.

"Maybe I don't want to," you had a feeling Bradley might say that.

"Can you heathens take it out back, for Christ's sake?" Ms. Garcia barks, and all of a sudden, she had might as well be the biggest person in the room. "Good lord," briefly, she delves into unintelligible murmurings, slipping in and out of Spanish, "if you're not here to place an order, get out of my damn restaurant."

Maverick's eyebrows disappear into his hairline. Opens his mouth.

Ms. Garcia isn't done talking, "Robert, will you be decent and walk the lady to her car?"

You don't remember Bob looking as big as he does when he emerges from behind Mickey and Jake, shoulders impossibly square, stone-cold in expression; that doe-eyed gaze he once carried is nothing more than a memory now. This isn't the same Robert Floyd who boarded a plane eleven years ago and subsequently vanished from your life without notice.

Maverick's not budging, even as Bob comes to stand directly in front of him. You'd say they're nose to nose, but that wouldn't be fair to Maverick, who has to look straight up in order to meet Bob's eye. Funny, the last time you saw Bob, he was a few inches shorter than Maverick.

From the back, Jake takes two steps forward.

Maverick cracks.

Doesn't look happy about moving two feet to the left, but regardless, he's out of your way.

On a normal day, you'd be bothered by how Bob opens the door for you and lingers on your flank once you've stepped outside. Even now, you're biting back a comment about how you don't need his useless protection; if Maverick decided he wanted you dead, nothing on this Earth would stop someone from executing that order.

But you don't recognize those men stepping out of their vehicles, your skin prickling as you catch prying eyes raking up and down your form, a pack of starving wolves looking at a fresh piece of meat.

"D'you still drive that ol' car?" What a way to make small talk, Bob.

"Nah," you haven't thought about that old car in forever, some beat-up sedan with its peeling paint and barely functioning radio, "the transmission blew the day after you hopped on that plane."

The way he jumps forward to try and match your quicker pace is too familiar for your liking; he's nine inches taller, eleven years older, has had so, so much time to forget those old habits. Yet here he is, struggling to match your pace like he always has. It's as if no time has passed at all.

You hate it.

Bob's mouth opens, and you already know what words currently rest on his tongue. "Wish I could've been there to fix—"

"Please don't start with that," you can't even begin to think about those dreamy what-ifs. Not anymore. Not after all of this time.

Your car is parked on the corner, blending in with the sea of vehicles taking up this side of the street. There's no reason for Bob to keep walking with you, he can easily stop here on the sidewalk and wait until you get in the car, but his foot hits the street at the same time yours does.

Bob's hair bounces as he tries to beat your pace, rounding the side of the car before you do. Ah, right. Balancing the bag of food in one arm, you reach into your pocket, mashing the button to unlock your car.

It's not until a big hand shoots out and opens the door that you realize what you've just done.

"I'm surprised you haven't started asking me to text you when I get home safe," and you're surprised that your fingers are itching to type that message, too.

His shoulders shake with his chuckle, deeper than you remember it being, but the sound still dances around your ears like it used to, "I was just thinkin' about that."

The bag is big enough that you have to buckle it into your passenger seat; it's hard to get over ten miles an hour in this city, but you'd rather not have to scrub spilled food off your seat again. There's still a faint stain if you squint, but you're pretending not to see it.

Bob's still holding your door, eyes fixated on his boots; you don't expect for him to look up and catch you staring. His mouth opens, shuts just as quickly, then does it again. Trying to say something that he doesn't know how to phrase. Even now, those thin, pink lips look so soft. You wonder if they'd still meld with—

"I'll uh," blinking rapidly, "I'll see you 'round." In the split second, it takes for him to shut the door for you, his sweatshirt rises up, and something shiny tucked in his jeans catches your eye.

"I told you he was back!" Gee, how did you guess that Javy would say that? "And you didn't believe me!"

You don't know where Fritz emerged from, but all of a sudden, he's hovering on your left, fumbling with the staple on the bag. "Have you ever considered that they didn't want to believe it?"

"Eleven years is a lot of time to go without talking to somebody," Natasha's appeared on your right. Must have come from the same place as Fritz, "I wonder what drug his sorry ass back to the city."

Deep in your belly, an icy hand reaches up, twisting and clawing at your gut. You know what you saw. That outline was unmistakable, too distinct to be chalked off as anything else.

A hand waves in front of your face; the dainty diamond ring tells you it belongs to Natasha, "you still with us?"

"Yeah," your voice is barely there, "just thinking about some things."

Fritz has already split up the orders, the only one who can be trusted with such a tremendous task. But now that your food is sitting on the bar in front of you, it's anything but appetizing. Your stomach is churning just looking at it.

Natasha bumps your shoulder with hers. "Spit it out."

"How would someone get a gun in this city?" Dumb question; you already know the answer.

"I know that smugglers brought a lot in after they outlawed 'em," Javy pauses to shovel another bite of fried rice into his mouth, "but most of the time, they're only carried by cops."

Ms. Garcia's piled your styrofoam container to the brim with food, to the point that some of it spills out onto the table when you lift the styrofoam lid. Always has been one to sneak in extras, but this is a lot more than usual. The one day you feel nauseous.

"Who had the gun?" A part of you had hoped Natasha wouldn't ask you that question.

Shrugging your shoulders, "one of Mav's guys."

At least, that's what you wish was the case.

Fridays have always been the worst days to work at the Hard Deck Club.

Especially on the first Friday after the local college has concluded its latest semester, setting loose a sea of exhausted, brain-fried students looking to drown their stresses in alcohol and flashing neon lights. You can't blame them, not when these particular nights bring in enough revenue to pay the bills for the next month, but damn, would it be nice if they quit dropping glass bottles on the floor.

Now, where the hell did you shove that dustpan?

"I think it may be in the side closet again," Natasha chirps, sliding a shot glass across the bar.

"Who keeps putting it back in the closet?" Groaning, you place the broom against the side of the bar; will Fritz trip over it again? Only God himself knows. But carrying it into that bustling crowd risks it getting snatched up by someone bigger and stronger than you, intoxicated to the point of losing their impulse control.

Maybe Fritz will see it this time.

Leaving him and Natasha to tend to the seemingly rabid crowd of frat boys that've just stumbled in the front door, you step out into the crowd. The closet is hidden in the farthest corner of the room, next to the emergency exit. Not a long distance during slower hours, but during peak, it might as well be a journey to the end of the Earth.

"Good luck, soldier!" Natasha yells, barely audible over the thumping music.

Making yourself as small as possible as you duck into every opening you're presented with. Around a giggling group of girls that yell about a guy named Harvard. Behind a monster of a man that's nursing a bubbly can of lemonade seltzer. Between a couple that sounds one wrong word away from a breakup.

Your hand finds the cold knob, surprised to find that the door is already partially ajar. Pulling it open reveals a pair of lithe bodies pressed together as close as physically possible; you don't know who looks more surprised, the girl with her bra on the floor or the guy with his pants halfway down.

"Out!" Is all you have to say before they scramble out of the closet like roaches. You hate that you recognize them; couples like these are the sole reason you're asking Javy to install a proper lock on the door.

Would it kill them to at least take it to a bathroom stall?

The dustpan sits on the floor, trampled by their inconsiderate, heavy feet. The handle is broken, leaving you with nothing more than a jagged edge to hang onto.

As you step out of the closet, cool air licks at your heels, blowing in from the now wide-open emergency exit. One of these days, the planets will align, and the alarm will go off for once. Until then, you're stuck closing the door for people who can't even be bothered to shut it themselves.

"Wait!" Is that...?

"Don't shut that door!" You recognize that voice.

It's hard to tell with the rain coming down like it is, sheet upon sheet of water, battering the flurry of figures barreling toward you. Jake is the first one you can identify; he's always run a little strange compared to the others, and chances are, that's Bradley bouncing alongside him.

So who's the third guy?

"Are you too uncivilized to go in through the front?" But you step aside all the same, allowing all three of them to stumble inside. Carrying with them enough rainwater to fill an Olympic swimming pool.

Ugh, wait, you recognize their tagalong now.

"Cops," is all Bradley can get out in between his desperate gasps for air.

"Came into Ms. Garcia's restaurant lookin' for one of us," the only sign Bob's been running is the pink that's gathered in his cheeks, "slipped out the back before we found out who."

"So you ran the nine blocks to hide out in the Hard Deck?" Your question is met with varying yesses. All Jake can do is nod; Bradley offers a thumbs up; Bob's the only one to offer you a proper yes.

You know why they're here, but that doesn't mean you're happy about it. Outside, Javy has a remote that controls every single LED in this club; if the police are trying to come in, he sets the lights to red. Your fault for letting it slip to Mickey and Reuben; now you're the hotspot for the entire gang's hideouts. So much for creating a system for your safety.

If Natasha weren't engaged to one of these morons, you'd kick them back out in a heartbeat.

Alas, you've got no choice but to motion toward the frail coat rack that resides next to the exit door, "do me a favor and leave your wet coats by the door, will ya?"

When their backs are turned, you allow yourself to finally step back and vanish into the bustling crowd. There are more than enough people here for you to brush off your absence as merely being concealed by the multitude of bodies on your main floor.

Definitely just busy helping customers all night.

Definitely not avoiding Robert Fucking Floyd.

"Did you get lost?" Natasha's hands are a blur as she multitasks between filling her orders, moving so methodically that it's mesmerizing.

Your mouth opens, but it's not your voice that rings out.

"Couple of losers popped in the side door," Bradley's voice washes overtop yours like a tidal wave, drowning you out so completely that you wonder if you even spoke at all.

Natasha's face brightens, eyes a fraction softer, smile just a little bigger. Just like that, you know that you've been booted out of your own conversation. Seems to be a recurring theme with these two, but you haven't the energy to complain.

The broken dustpan disappears from your grasp, plucked away by an unseen face.

"I've got it," Fritz. Off doing side tasks when he should be tending to the bar. The one thing you pay him to do. At least that explains the surge of people waiting on a now semi-distracted Natasha.

Stepping behind the bar, you head over to Fritz's now unoccupied side. It's been a while since the last time you've done this, but it's easy to fall back into the old rhythm of mindlessly filling orders. Beer. Beer. Draft beer. Cocktail. Beer. Round of shots. Beer. Beer. More Beer. Another round of shots. A lot more beer.

If you did the math, you're pretty sure that beer would make up for eighty percent of your sales.

You're in the middle of dry-shaking a Whiskey Sour when a new face settles into the seat on the far end of your section. Large hands folded, resting atop the white marble of your bar, patient as ever. Not flagging you down by waving his hands in the air or barking his order at you. Simply waiting. But that's not what initially caught your eye, though.

It's the dragon tattoo that eats up the length of his arm.

It's barely visible in the dark lighting of the bar, washed out by the vivid, neon hues of pink and blue that bathe his pale skin. The dragon's tail rests at the top of his wrist, working its way upward, spanning across a thick, meaty bicep that can give Jake a run for his money. Up, up, up, until it reaches his upper chest, the dragon's head barely concealed by a white tank top. Cut just low enough for you to catch a glimpse of what muscles lie below the thin material.

Had it been cut any lower, your eyes would have never wandered up and realized who this body is attached to.

"I thought you said you'd never drink," it's far too easy to fall into your old teasings, and you don't know why.

But Bob shakes his head, the faintest of smiles gracing his lips as he looks down at his hands, "I don't."

Usually, you try your best to make it a habit of paying attention to only one person at a time; offer a little one-on-one, even if it's for the briefest of moments, but your hand is already wandering toward the cooler. Don't even have to look to know when you've grabbed hold of a water bottle, sliding it towards him without a second thought.

But now that you're planning to overly invest yourself in filling drink orders, it seems nobody wants a drink now. Here you are, in a club full of people, and you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be stuck with.

Even after all the sunshine-filled fantasies of Bob suddenly appearing, having him here feels off. It's the same face, the same old, quiet personality, so familiar that he might as well have left last week.

But...

"You don't seem too thrilled to see me," you don't remember the Bob of your memories being so forward.

"Are you expecting me to jump for joy after you don't contact me for eleven years?" It shoots out of your mouth before you can stop it, "roll out the red carpet and pray you don't turn around and ghost me for a second time?"

"That's not—"

"Not what, Bob?" Slamming your hand on the bar, "huh? Did you think I'd forget that you ran away while I was left here to deal with what happened?"

His jaw tightens, "it wasn't my choice," voice deeper than before, harder, "you know that."

"Was avoiding me for a decade not your choice either?" You can feel heads starting to turn, prying eyes and perking ears scavenging for every ounce of drama they can gather. They can blast this on National news for all you fucking care. "Or was that something mommy and daddy made you do, too?"

"Maybe I avoided you because I knew you'd blow up on me the moment I reached out!" Surging to his feet.

"I wouldn't be blowing up on you if you weren't pretending it never happened!" Noses bump together. What distance this marble countertop is putting between you isn't enough.

For the briefest of moments, you're fifteen again.

Drenched by the pouring rain. Sitting on concrete scraped knees. Throat tore apart by hiccuped sobs as familiar hands cup your cheeks. Nose cold as it bumps into that of another, warmed by false promises of, I'll come back for you.

But the hands that settle on your shoulders aren't ones that you recognize; aren't the same hands of the childhood flame that should have burnt out the day he walked away. You aren't sure who they belong to, don't quite care who it is that you jab your elbow into, squirming free of their hold.

You're going home for the night.

"What was that all about?" Bradley.

"Finally, get it out of your system?" Natasha.

You're sure Jake would have some input if he wasn't shotgunning a can of Budweiser.

This is the only night where you wish your apartment wasn't directly above this establishment. Right now sounds like a better time than ever to play heavy music and scream in the privacy of your vehicle. Get it out of your system before you get home.

The damn broom closet door is open again.

You can hardly recall your feet hitting the ground. All you're aware of is that you're suddenly standing in front of the offending door, the knob so cold in your hand that it stuns you out of your stupor. Did you forget to shut this door, or did another couple sneak in here while you weren't looking?

The lights turn red.

"Shit." And it's not just you who says it; it's nearly everyone in the room.

Someone clocks you right in the shoulder in their rush to get to the emergency exit. One, two, three, four, fuck, how many people in here are running from the police? There goes, Jake. And what looks like Fritz right behind him. Nat's yelling something intelligible. Another shoulder nails your side, shoving you in their fight to squeeze through the tiny door.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Pale blue flannels are flooding in through the entrance, four, five, too many for Javy to hold off. Not enough time to scramble upstairs to your apartment. Nor enough to dive into the hidden crawlspace behind the bar.

"Why's everyone runnin'?" God, fucking—

Reaching out, you snatch Bob's flimsy shirt collar, yanking him into the closet with you, "red lights mean a cop is here, moron."

It's as if the closet shrinks the moment you shut the door. Walls closing in, cramming you up against each other. Not an inch of space left between your bodies.

"I know why I'm hidin'," Bob whispers. Of all places, why does his mouth have to be next to your ear? "But why are you hidin'?"

If only you had the space to deck him square in the nose. "Now isn't the time."

There's a noise just outside the door. Your pounding heart tries to crawl right up your throat. It sounds, again, the dull thump of something heavy hitting the wall next to you. Metal clinking together, maybe handcuffs. A voice is protesting, but you don't recognize it.

Bob shifts his weight, unintentionally bumping his chest into you. "Well, it seemed to be a few minutes ago."

"I will kick you out of this closet."

"And what if it's another 'leven years before we see each other?"

It's so quiet that you could hear a pin drop on the other side of the building. Like the world has completely frozen, not a sound to be heard. You have to turn your head just to make sure you still can.

The only light in this closet comes from the thin slivers of light that squeeze in through the gaps in the doorframe. Tiny streaks of red, barely capable of lighting this dark closet at all. And yet, when you look up, the light is just bright enough to allow you a glimpse of watery eyes. Soft, puppy-like, exactly how you remember them looking.

"Listen, I—" his head drops, but you've already seen what he's trying to hide, "I'm sorry."

It's a bandaid on a broken bone. Sorry fixes nothing.

"Did you know that I believed you when you said you'd come back?" Your voice wavers, featherlight, "because when you told me that you would come back every Friday night to visit me, I thought you meant it."

He reaches up to remove his glasses, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Sniffles but doesn't say anything. So you keep talking.

"I sat on the corner of Third street and waited for you," too heavy a confession for your tongue to lift, your hushed whisper now nothing but a faint murmur, "every Friday night for three and a half years."

You're not strong enough to confess the rest of the story. How your heart jumped every time you saw a beat-up pickup that resembled his. How you'd convince yourself that this time, this time, he'd be there. Can't admit that you looked for him everywhere you went. Expected him to miraculously appear after your biggest accomplishment. Thought he would surprise you on every holiday and birthday.

Those words might just die with you.

Cautious arms wind around your waist, slow, and all of a sudden, you are really, truly back in your fifteen-year-old body. Trembling as he gathers you up into his warm body, squeezing you into his chest, his head dropping down to bury into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he utters again, but this time, nothing can conceal the break in his voice. There's no attempt to stop you from feeling the drops of water that fall upon the crook of your neck.

Sorry doesn't fix it.

But it's a start.

Looping your arms around his shoulders feels strange; you don't recall them ever being this broad or solid in your grasp, but they only make it easier for you to settle into this impromptu hug. There's so much more of him to fall into, to lose yourself in.

He squeezes you a little tighter. "Were ya always this tiny?"

Your sigh is loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. Bob just laughs.

It's been so long that you've forgotten what it sounds like. The one that forces a smile so big that his eyes wrinkle, pearly teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tries to stifle it. His nose is cold as it bumps into your cheek, seems to leave little bits of ice in its wake.

Likewise, it's been a long time since you were face-to-face like this. So close that you can feel his breath against your lips. Neither of you should be this close; you don't know if he's got a partner keeping his bed warm or not. For crying out loud, this is only the second time that you've seen him since he came back.

His eyes tell you that he's having the same thought.

But thoughts mean less than actions. Thoughts can't stop the way your lips bump together on their own accord, too timid to move on their own at first. Someone has to make the first move, and someone does, but you can't tell which of you leaned closer and closed the gap.

And you can't be bothered to try and decipher it because you're too busy figuring out why his lips feel like heaven against yours. Unintentionally leaning in the same direction as the other, can't quite figure out how to avoid crushing your noses together, but then you do.

In your wistful daydreams, you would have described this feeling as stars colliding, a tremendous explosion that dissolves into a plume of sparkling stardust. But this, this doesn't feel like that at all. Kissing him feels like coming home from war; it's been so long since the last time these lips molded with yours that you've forgotten the feeling, but it's so familiar.

One of his hands still rises to curl around your jaw, bigger than it was when you were teenagers. He still breaks away from you, then noses his way back because he can't have only one kiss. But it's you who hungrily leans up into it, you who twists his short hair between your fingers and pulls him against you, revealing just how starved you truly are.

He leans forward, and it's hard to tell if the way his thigh forces its way between your legs is intentional or not. This hadn't even remotely been on your mind, but now that his knee is rubbing against your core, it's suddenly everything you want. More, you want more.

A little tug on his hair earns you an equally little gasp, and then, quietly, "we're still in a closet, sweetie."

This time, when your eyes flutter open, it's neon shades of pink and blue that peer into this dingy little hideaway. And this time, you know exactly what you're about to say. "My apartments upstairs"

Walking back out into the club feels like walking directly into the sun; lights too bright for your unprepared eyes, music a touch too loud. But even so, you don't catch glimpse of a single cop as you head around the corner. Bob's coat is the second to last one on the rack; it's grabbed during your blind scramble towards the stairs, leaving Bradley's to dry on its lonesome.

Hidden along the opposite side of the club, next to the bathrooms, there's an employees-only door that opens up to a small hallway. Tucked away on your left is the break room and walk-in cooler, but on your right is another inconspicuous, tiny door.

"I thought you were kiddin'," Bob breathes, squeezing your hand in his as you type in the code to unlock the door. Nothing but darkness lies ahead. Seems you've forgotten to turn the stair lights on again.

"No point in renting when there's a perfectly good apartment in the building you own," your feet already know exactly where to land on each narrow stair. Bob trips over the first stair, narrowly manages to catch himself on the railing.

At the very top is your actual door, sitting atop a small landing. City lights pour in through the window on your right, illuminating the room just enough for you to see what you're doing and where you need to slide your house key.

Soft lips find the side of your neck, sucking softly on a vein that's risen. It's barely there, and yet, it makes your vision blur. Your key misses

"Bob," gasping, writhing as hands come to rest on your hips, kneading into your flesh. Blindly, you poke the key around the lock, struggling to get the damn thing into the microscopic slot.

You find it, and the both of you practically fall into your apartment.

It's dark enough that he can't see the disarray that your living room is currently in. This floor was never originally designed to be a living space at all, but you've turned it into one, and now you're going through the seven stages of grief trying to settle on a decor style. Not Pinterest-level yet, but you're getting there.

You've just barely turned the lock back into place before those damn lips are on your neck again, working their way up, unable to keep away from you for longer than a half second at a time. Only manage to reach the meet of your jaw before you turn and catch those offending lips with your own.

It's different than the ones shared in the broom closet. Proximity no longer forced; your hands are now freely able to crawl up and down his defined back, feet stumbling backward as you clumsily lead your intertwined bodies toward your bedroom. Past the kitchen, past the thrifted dresser littered with picture frames, both new and old. Too many pictures of your and Bob's childhood adventures.

You manage to kick one shoe off next to the bathroom; the other goes flying down the hallway for you to trip over later. Bob surges forward, pressing you up against the wall of the hallway, does it so easily that it's dizzying. Effortlessly trapping you between his burning hot frame and the cool drywall, short tongue brushing against your bottom lip, asking even though your mouth is already open.

He must still mindlessly suck on lemon-flavored candies because you can vaguely taste them on him. The artificial citrus a pleasant shock to your senses as your tongues meet for the first time in over a decade, lacing together clumsily. Both trying to go in the same direction, each unfamiliar with the rhythm of the other.

Hands toy with the hem of your shirt; you take the initiative, breaking away just long enough to lift the garment from your body. There's no way Bob can see very well without his glasses on, but you can practically feel him eating up every single detail.

A few more steps and you're standing in your bedroom; a simple thing, the bed faces a big open window, granting you a jaw-dropping view of the city in all of its chaotic glory. The lights never really go together, and yet it somehow manages to look picture-perfect, flaws and all.

You hadn't noticed that Bob was still carrying his jacket until he's dropping it to the floor. Something metal clattered against your hardwood floor.

Even in the dark, you know exactly what it is. That shield-shaped hunk of gold-painted metal is unmistakable.

And even in the dark, you can see Bob go stiff as a board. "I can explain—"

"Don't tell me," your voice wavers, but it's there, "because I don't wanna know."

He steps closer, just enough so that you can take him by the hands and pull him down onto the bed with you. You hardly expect him to comply, but he does so anyway, running his big hands up your sides as your back hits the mattress. Settles between your open legs, leaning down just far enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.

"Are you sure you don't want me to tell you?" Lips bumping against yours as he speaks. Your answer comes in the form of surging up and locking your lips with his once more, arms wrapping around his neck.

It's hard to imagine Robert Floyd as a cop, likely an undercover one at that. That must be where he's been all this time, on the other side of the law, for once. The gun hiding beneath his sweatshirt flickers through your mind; you don't want to know why it was there.

All it takes is one needy tug on his shirt, and he's breaking away to tug it off, muscles rippling with the movement, visible even in the dark. His chest gently sculpted, bears years of careful building, all amounting to something worth carving into marble and displaying in a museum. You can't resist running your hands down it, feeling the faint indentations of his rib cage.

A peck on your lips, and then he's working his way down your neck, leaving behind a wet trail of kisses and licks that have you squirming beneath him. It's been so long since the last time someone's paid attention to your body like this, overly sensitive.

As he reaches your bra, he pauses, darkened eyes flickering up to your face, "why don't you want me to tell you?"

This mundane conversation doesn't stop him from sliding his hands behind your back, seamlessly unhitching the restrictive elastic. He's seen you like this before, and yet, as he slides the material off of your body, he's transfixed. Unable to look away from what lies beneath him.

It takes you a moment to find your voice. "Because," words broken by a gasp, brought on by the tongue swirling around your nipple, "I don't want to know your secrets."

Reaching out, you tangle your fingers in the short hair resting at the nape of his neck. You can't imagine what he'd think of yours.

It's an unfinished conversation, and the unspoken fragment of your sentence hangs in the open air like an off-the-rails train dangling along the edge of a bridge. Glaringly obvious, and yet, Bob doesn't press you any further, preferring to tease your hardening nipple with his teeth. One of his hands massages your neglected breast, thumb swiping over your nipple in tune with his tongue.

On their own, your hips twitch upward, seeking contact that you can't yet receive. Not in this position. Taking the hint in stride, Bob starts to work his way down even further, licking down your navel as his nails stroke up and down your sensitive sides.

"So pretty," he whispers into your skin, "I didn't think it was possible for you to look any better than you already did."

Thick fingers hook into your waistband, eyes flicker up to gauge your reaction. Timid, you lift your hips; he pulls both your pants and your panties down all in one go, leaving you in nothing but your mismatched socks.

You hate that you recognize the way his hands trail down your open thighs, that you know exactly what he's going to do when his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. Collapsing onto his forearms, Bob presses a kiss to your left thigh, then another to his right one.

And then he drags his broad, flat tongue right up your slit.

Your hips rise with it, knew it was coming but somehow still surprised by the sensation. That, that, you haven't felt in a while. A fat tongue swirls around your rapidly swelling clit, burning saliva dripping down into you, creating a horrifically wet noise that bounces off the walls.

That scorching muscle works its way back down to trace the delicate rim of your entrance, the tip of his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue experimentally dips inside of you. Once, twice, three times, until it can find a slow, smooth rhythm. Gently fucking you with his short, menacing tongue.

"Robby," your thighs clamp down around his head, but your hands attempt to push him away, "n-not—"

Even your fragmented statement is enough to have him drawing back, lips shining in the dark room, "not what you were wantin'?"

Shaking your head, "want more than your mouth."

His eyebrows raise, but now that you've said it, he's on the same page as you; zipper absurdly loud as he pulls it down. While he fumbles, you reach up into the bedside drawer, seeking out that barely used bottle of lubricant. Bob's pants land on the floor in a messy heap, right alongside that shining badge, standing proud against your new hardwood.

"Jesus." You breathe.

Bob blinks, confused by your comment. "What?"

But you don't follow up with a reply. Can't. Either your memory is fooling you, or he's grown a bit in this department too. Cock curved off to the left, menacing as he drizzles himself with the lubricant. A pair of well-intentioned fingers push inside of you, but you don't need it. May or may not have had a little fun with a new toy this morning.

Are you sure you don't want his tongue?

"You alright?" He chirps, smacking his dripping cockhead against your clit; both of you hiss.

"Yeah," you're squirming, but he just keeps paying attention to your poor clit, tiny, wet slaps that send volts of electricity up your spine. "Didn't expect for a monster to be in my bedroom, is all."

It takes him a second, but then, his eyes roll so hard that you hope they get stuck in the back of his head. "Very funny."

Right as he says it, he tilts himself downward, teasing your entrance. The real deal feels nothing like the clearance toy you ordered off the internet; it's not this warm, doesn't require you to reach down and manually work it.

Slowly, slowly, he presses into you. A faint pressure gradually begins to grow the more he opens you up, muscles stretching to accommodate the intrusion. That's—that's...

"Thick," grumbling under your breath.

His free hand finds your knee, thumb stroking the skin there as he pushes that blunt head into you. It almost seems to pop in, the pressure growing until all of a sudden, it's gone. The rest of the glide inside is easy, overwhelming in the way he manages to fill spaces that you didn't know were there. All you know is that Bob's hips are finally colliding with yours and that he's coming down to press a kiss into your cheek like it's something he's done every day for years,

"Y'alright?" He murmurs against your skin, and until now, you hadn't realized that you've started panting.

Nodding, "yeah." It's hard to relax when you're so fucking full. "You can move."

A part of you worries he misheard you because he pulls all the way back until you're left with nothing but his thick head. Then, just as slowly as the first time, he pushes back in, cock just big enough to make you feel small. He does it again, ever so slightly quicker this time, working up a slow, deep rhythm that makes you feel every fucking inch of him.

"Fuck," whimpering; something has changed about his angle, because all of a sudden, his cock head is kissing that sensitive bundle of nerves, "there, there."

"Yeah?" You can't see it, but you can feel the way the corner of his lip twitches upward, "is that the spot, baby?"

All you can do is nod, curling your legs around his hips. Involuntarily fluttering as he targets that poor little spot hidden within those gooey walls that clench and unclench around his cock. Each inward push seems to shove the air from your lungs and never seems to let you catch your breath. Your hands are struggling to find something to hold onto, fleeting between the sheets, his biceps, and his shoulders. Too many places to grab, none of them able to ground you.

This. This is a story you've never heard before. A story told with your bodies rather than your words. The way he holds you tells you that he's afraid to hurt you and treats you like glass even now. Your incessant need to touch him whispers your well-kept secrets, the fears that if you let go, he'll fade away into nothing. It's familiar, and it's unsure; both hurt a thousand times over the course of this past decade.

But maybe, maybe, this can be different.

"Feel so good 'round me," Bob purrs directly into your ear, teeth nipping your lobe, "can feel ya clenchin', Princess."

Then, he's leaning back onto his haunches, broad chest on display as he greedily drinks in the sight of you beneath him. Split open around his cock, clinging to him like a vice; the moment his eyes catch a glimpse of the sinful sight between your legs, he can't look away.

What a sight this is; Robert Floyd, muscles swelling as he fucks you, biceps bulging. Once perfectly combed hair now a mess atop his head, the longest strands curling into his pale face. Through the window behind him, the city melds into the perfect backdrop, their vibrant lights dancing across his perfect skin. Your daydreams have never even come close to creating such a picture-perfect sight.

"God," the closest he'll get to swearing, "clenchin' 'round me like a damn vice."

Surely, there has to be a way to get him to swear. It's only fair because here you are, sprawled out on your mattress as his dick plows into your poor, stretched pussy, swearing to high heaven beneath your whimpered breaths. His shuttered breaths are growing louder, hips moving a little quicker, striking your sensitive g-spot over and over and over.

What if you...

Digging your heels into the mattress, you focus on your muscles. How they clench and unclench in perfect tune with his thrusts, how if you really, really think about it, you can gather control over them. One experimental clench of muscles earns you a surprised grunt, Bob's eyes fluttering open. Too wrapped in the moment to be suspicious.

One.

Two.

Before you can internally count to three, you clench down around him the best you can.

His hips screech to such a sudden halt that you can almost hear the metaphorical tires squealing, "fuck!"

Heat pools inside of you, his cock twitching inside of you, over and over. But that heat just keeps on coming, and it hits you what's just happened.

"Proud of yourself?" He grumbles, prying one eye open.

Giggling, you nod. Two birds with one stone. But now he's sliding all the way out of you, and your proud grin is vanishing within the blink of an eye.

His hands find your hips, seemingly effortlessly flipping your body around. One second, you're looking up at him; the next, you're face down in the mattress as he guides you up to your knees. A hand between your shoulder blades keeps your upper body down, pinning you against the bed as he pushes his cock back inside. Cum sloshes around as he slides home once more; you can feel some of it squishing out of you.

"I'm trying to be sweet with you," leaning down, his mouth against your ear once more, "and meanwhile, you're trying to get a rise out of me."

"I wanted to see if you'd swear," it's hard to be smug when he pulls out, only to plow right back into you, "you cumming was just collateral damage."

Bob has no comeback, doesn't need one. Because all of a sudden, he's working up a rhythm that puts the former one to shame, hard thrusts that you've got no choice but to shiver and take. Heavy balls slapping against your cunt with every fucking motion. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's reaching down to toy with your clit, too, using his cum as a lubricant to stimulate the poor little bud.

You can't keep your mouth shut, whimpering into the sheets as you squirm, "should've—ah!" The bastard hits you with a particularly hard plunge and holds it there, grinding into your drooling pussy, "maybe I should've done that sooner."

Nothing can conceal his laugh, amused.

Too soon, it's dissolving into overstimulated little whines of his own, swearing under his breath. Oversensitive head bullying your swollen sweet spots as he works your clit a bit faster. Makes you futter around him like a butterfly, involuntarily spasming as a familiar heat begins to build between your legs and in your lower belly. You can't tell if it's you or him who is whispering expletives into the cool bedroom air.

"Is that what you wanted, sweetie?" There's no malice as he coos into your ear, only something warm that you cannot yet name, "just wanted to hear me cuss like a goddamn sailor while I fuck your dainty lil' pussy?"

The room is beginning to spin, your lungs starving for a proper breath as that coil in your belly grows tighter and tighter. Wound up more and more by his every thrust, by every spiral of his thick fingers on your pulsating clit.

"C'mon, beautiful," those teeth graze your shoulder, "cum on my cock like a good girl."

And that is it.

With a strangled squeal, you bite down into your comforter and cum around his still-moving cock. One, two, three more motions before his hips once again stall, spasming inside of you as your head practically floats off your shoulders. You can't fucking breathe; spots cloud your vision as involuntary shocks ripple through your exhausted body.

"Y'still with me?"

You hardly recall closing your eyes, but all of a sudden, you're opening them. And there's Bob, resting next to you as he strokes his hand up and down your naked body, doing nothing more than map out your form. Your eyes meet, and he smiles.

Nodding, you release the breath you were holding, "I think so."

Dully, you can feel something warm leaking out of your puffy entrance, dripping all over your poor thighs. It's going to get on the comforter and leave a stain, but you haven't the energy to move, never mind clean up.

"I'll carry you to the shower," kissing your nose, Bob continues, "if you tell me where it is."

That you can do.

Bob is still the same quiet sleeper you remember him being. Curled around your back like he belongs there, nose buried into the space between your shoulder blades. Being wrapped in his arms feels like being wrapped up in the very definition of home. There isn't a doubt in your exhausted mind that, here, right now, he'd take on the entire world if it meant keeping you safe.

Isn't a doubt in your mind that he's done some things he's not proud of, probably doesn't have the strength to voice it. But then again, so have you.

Maybe you should leave these thoughts here, just for the night. Overthinking will only lead you to more problems, problems that you can't solve at two in the morning. Peering over your shoulder, you wait to see if Bob's eyes open. Flutter, even.

They don't.

Slow, you reach over into a drawer in the bedside table, feeling blindly for the cold metal you know you will find. It's hidden beneath a coverless book and inside a felt pouch, but it's there, solid as ever. Pulling it out reveals its faint but unmistakable shape.

The vibrant city lights illuminate a shield-shaped hunk of gold-painted metal. On the bottom, inscribed in tiny little letters, is your full name.

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