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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

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Remember You Even When I Don't (5)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.4K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, eventual smut

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

Buckle in, folks!

-----

He spends that first night tossing and turning, fighting to find sleep. It’s hard for him to be down the hall, knowing you were so close, yet so far out of his reach. In only a few days, he had gotten used to falling asleep and waking up with you in the chair beside his bed. The next morning, you somehow look more tired now than you had the whole time he was in the hospital, and he was sure that he was the same.

Being here was different than he anticipated. Part of him expected to walk into this house and have every memory he’d lost rush back to him in technicolor. He was disappointed when that didn’t happen, and he thinks that even if you won’t say it, you are, too.

He didn’t remember anything, but his instincts were there. He knew which drawer held the utensils and which cabinet housed plates and bowls and which one had coffee cups. He knew where the two of you kept Florry’s food and that her treats were kept in one of the drawers in the coffee table. It was muscle memory, he supposed.

But his brain tickled sometimes, like it wanted to remember something but couldn’t. He often felt that frustrating sensation of something being right there on the tip of his tongue, but he’s unable to produce exactly what it is.

He dreams every night. His subconscious creates scenes of flying and crashing ocean waves, of snow covered streets and twinkle lights. He swears your laughter echoes in his ears when he rouses to consciousness.

He doesn’t know if they’re memories, or if they’re figments brought on by the yearning he feels toward you the longer he’s around you. Either way, they’re never quite clear enough for him to even ask you about them. But he sneaks into your office one night and swipes a pen and a pad of sticky notes and takes to writing down all the details he can recall when he wakes up.

Over the first few days of being home, the two of you get into a tentative routine. You somehow wake before he does, and there’s coffee waiting for him when he makes his way downstairs. You’re not much of a breakfast person, but you make him eggs and bacon and toast or whatever he’s in the mood for, even if he insists you don’t have to. You take him to his follow up appointments or evaluations, which takes up his time until the early afternoon. The two of you have taken to grabbing lunch while you’re out everyday, before going back to the home you share and making yourselves busy until dinner.

He finds himself wanting to touch you more. There were no more forehead kisses, but his knee will knock against yours sometimes when the two of you are eating. He always holds the door open for you whenever you two are out, and sometimes you’ll brush against him just so when you’re passing by. When the two of you are walking somewhere, his fingers twitch to hold onto yours. He’s taken to placing his hand near your lower back, not quite touching you, but close enough where he can feel your body heat.

You like to curl up in the corner of your sectional couch, and he feels like you’re a million miles away when he sits on the other end.

Getting to know you again is a whirlwind of feelings he doesn’t understand. You’re kind, and beautiful, and you make him laugh. He has near constant butterflies in his stomach whenever you’re around.

He knows himself well enough to know that he’s developed feelings for you, and the concept makes his head hurt, knowing this isn’t the first time but not remembering it. He doesn’t mention it to you, because he doesn’t know if it would make things better or worse.

He wants to ask you questions about the two of you, too. You told him how you met, but he wants to know what your first date was like. He wants to know who said I love you first, though he thinks it was him. He wants to know how he proposed after only 4 months of knowing you and he wants to know why you said yes.

He wants to know everything, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Part of him is scared of the answers.

He’s seen the way you look at him, sometimes. Like it breaks your heart for him to be there with you, even though he knows how relieved you are for him to be. You don’t say anything to him, but he knows that you’re struggling. You do your best to always keep a smile on your face around him, but it’s your eyes that give you away, combined with this deep instinct he seems to have when it comes to you and your emotions.

After dinner every night, you’ve been finding yourselves sitting out on the back porch. The weather has been getting cooler and watching the sun go down with you has become his favorite part of being home. You avoid anything too heavy, too intimate, but you regale him with different tales from the last few years with your friends and your individual careers, or of you before you knew him, but the light in your eye is dim whenever you finish a tale and there’s no recognition in his.

He’s worried about you, but he doesn’t know if he has the right to tell you that. There’s something of a tension building in the air, and he can’t figure out how to cut through it just yet.

But he enjoys getting to know you again, and he hangs onto your every word. He loves every single moment the two of you have together and craves more of them. Even the most mundane of things, like when he went with you to the grocery store of all places. Phoenix had loaded their kitchen with essentials, but there was a specific recipe you were wanting to make that you swore he would love but that you needed a few things for. You looked surprised when he had asked if he could go with you, but pleased at the same time.

He pushed the cart as you checked things off your list and god, he loved watching you. You were looking up and down the aisle you were standing in, seemingly a little puzzled, and he was completely enraptured.

“I can never remember where the dates are,” you muttered, and he thinks it might have been only to yourself, but he couldn’t help but smirk a little bit.

“On a calendar?”

You shot him a look, looking incredulous but amused, and smacked him lightly on the arm with the list you were carrying. The touch sent a shot of electricity through him and he laughed, feeling warm. “Ow.”

“Okay, you comedian,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I was going to make you dessert, but maybe I won’t now,”

“No, come on,” he laughed, pushing the cart forward, nodding his head to the side, “They’re in the next aisle over,”

You stop walking, and after a second, Bradley does too, realizing what he just said. He turns to you and you’re looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He thinks he might see a little bit of pride in them, too. And it’s so silly, getting choked up by instinctively remembering where something is in a grocery store he can never remember being in, but he feels a lump in his throat anyway. He coughs, trying to dislodge the emotion. You don’t say a word, maybe sensing the moment that he’s having, but you squeeze his arm when you pass by him on your way to the aisle he indicated. After a moment, he follows behind you.

He thinks he would follow you anywhere.

————

It’s a Friday and he's been home for eight days now. He has a headache when he wakes up that morning, and he can’t remember anything notable from the previous night's dream to write down in his notebook. Part of him wants to go back to sleep and try again, but he pushes himself out of bed anyway.

Like she had been the last few days, Florry is laying at the guest room door when he opens it. She looks up and meows at him, nuzzling into his hand when he squats down to scratch her head for a moment before she gets up and struts away. He snorts at her, amused at how as soon as she gets what she wants, she moves on to something else.

He makes his way downstairs slowly, feeling like a drum is pounded right in his ear with every step. There’s a distinct spice in the air as he walks toward the kitchen, and it takes a few sniffs before he places it.

“Pumpkin?”

To his surprise, you gasp, and the knife you were holding slips from your grasp and clatters to the granite countertop. You jumped back from it, but your wide eyes were looking straight at him.

“What did you just call me?”

“What?”

“You said - you called me Pumpkin.”

This was one of those significant moments that he was missing. Bradley suddenly felt incredibly awkward, and a little ashamed. A flush crept up his neck to warm his cheeks in the worst way.

“I uh - I was talking about the smell.”

Watching your face fall cuts him worse than the knife you had been holding ever could. For a brief moment, he saw raw devastation completely overcome you. He starts to say your name, but you cut him off before he can.

“I’m making pumpkin banana pancakes,” you tell him after a moment. You pick the knife back up to continue cutting up the fruit you had on the cutting board. He wants to ask you what had just happened, but bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He’s frustrated that he can’t remember, and the hurt in your eyes was making his head pound harder. He hates that he’s putting you through this.

The two of you eat breakfast together, but it’s quieter than it normally is. The air was awkward, tense, and it seemed that neither one of you really knew what to say.

The day had only gotten worse from there. He was late for his doctor's appointment because the two of you had gotten stuck in traffic, and there was little he hated more in life than being late. His headache had only gotten worse, and he hadn’t been cleared to drive or go back to any sort of desk duty yet. To top it all off, the two of you had run into someone you knew during a near silent lunch and he had to awkwardly push himself through the conversation while pretending he did, too ashamed to actually say he had no idea who he was.

By the time you returned back home, he was in a sour mood, and he really wanted to go back to bed.

“Do you need anything?” you asked softly, hovering between the kitchen and living room as he settled himself on the couch unceremoniously.

“No,” he said shortly, pulling a blanket over him.

You sigh, and he’s irritated with himself for making you feel bad, too.

“I’m going to go up to my office for a bit then, okay?” he doesn’t respond. When you sigh, he’s irritated with himself even more for making you feel bad, too. “You can come up and get me if you need anything.”

Bradley tries to nap the afternoon away, but it’s more fitful than restful. He tosses and turns on the couch. Florry jumps on him at one point, waking him from one of his dozes.

He closes his eyes, trying again to find some sort of sleep, but nothing comes for him. His mind was moving a little too quickly now, and the guilt was setting in. He had been short with you almost all day, and even if he was frustrated, you didn’t deserve that. You were frustrated too, even if you wouldn’t say it.

Sometimes he wishes you would.

Why the hell did this happen to him after everything else in his life?

His dad, and then his mom, and Mav pulling his papers. He still hasn’t brought himself to reach out to the man he had apparently reconciled with, but you’ve mentioned how he’s asked after him whenever the two of you speak, as had the rest of the crew. It’s frustrating, suddenly having all these people in his life who he views as family, only to have no recollection of who they are. Seeing himself in all of these pictures that are throughout the house constantly boggles his mind. He hates being so confused all the time.

He hates that he can’t remember you, and that you spend all of your days trying to be strong for him.

He groans, running a hand roughly over his face. After another 45 minutes of staring at the ceiling fan spin, he throws the blanket off of his legs and forces himself up. He couldn’t do much, but he could at least apologize.

He drags himself up the stairs slowly, trying to figure out exactly what to say. The door to your office is pulled closed for the first time since he’s come home; he tries not to read into that as you wanting him to stay away. He goes to take a step closer and knock, but your voice through the door stops him.

“The timing is awful, Jake.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. The only Jake he knew was Hangman, and he hasn’t wrapped his mind completely around the fact that he was apparently one of his best friends now.

“Bringing a baby into this would make everything so much more complicated. He’s struggling enough as it is. You think suddenly becoming a father would make this all better? The test being negative is for the best.”

He sucks in a breath, feeling like he just got suckerpunched right in the stomach. He braces himself against the hallway wall with one hand, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“I’m okay,” you say, and he wishes he could hear both sides of the conversation. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “I promise.”

There’s another pause, and you let out a small laugh, “I might take you up on that, J.”

Bradley backs away from the door, his mind going a thousand miles a minute as he tries to process what just happened.

A baby? You were talking about having a baby. You had mentioned a test. Had you taken it recently? Since he had been home? Why hadn’t you told him, if you had? Was this something that had happened before his accident and just another thing that he forgot?

He’s your husband. He may not remember it, but he was. Didn’t he have a right to know?

He stews for a while, and that’s his biggest mistake. He’s scared, and bizarrely disappointed, he’s hurt, but most of all he’s angry. He’s angry that you’re talking to other people about something so personal, but not him. And Hangman, of all people. It festers inside of him, and by the time you come back downstairs, he’s sizzling in it.

“How does chicken and asparagus sound for dinner?” You’re smiling as you walk into the room, but it drops when you see the look in his face. “Are you alright?”

“You thought you were pregnant?”

The color drains from your face, and he knows he has his answer. He stands up from the couch to face you, his thoughts jumbled together, fighting for dominance in his head. You had thought you were pregnant. And you didn’t tell him.

“How did you know that?”

“I overheard you on the phone with Hangman,” he practically spits the name, feeling his anger swell even more. “When did you take it?”

“Bradley-”

“When did you take the test?”

You let out a long, shaky breath. You’re twisting your ring around your finger again, and your eyes are starting to glass up, but he forces himself not to focus on any of that. “Yesterday,” you admit softly, “I took it yesterday.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. You both had been in this house almost all day yesterday. He had been right here. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you!”

“Bradley-”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that we’d been trying to have kids before I got hurt?”

“Bradley, I really don’t think we should talk about this right now,” you said, trying to remain as calm as possible, but he was already way past that point.

“Well I want to talk about it,” he snaps, “Why would you keep this from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you!” you say, your voice rising to meet his. “We aren’t trying for a baby, Bradley. It was a scare. That’s all.”

“But you still took a test! And you didn’t tell me!”

“There was nothing to tell,” you try, but Bradley shakes his head as his anger reaches a boiling point.

“Not to me, apparently. You told fucking Hangman about it, but not me? Aren’t I the one who is supposed to be your husband?”

“Yeah, Bradley. You are,” you finally snap, your voice raising for the first time, “But how the hell was I supposed to tell you when you don’t even remember who I am?”

It was a low blow, but Bradley has never been one to back down.

“I’m trying!” he yells, and you startle back at just how loud he is, “I’m trying every single day. You think I don’t want to remember you? Someone I apparently almost had a kid with? Someone who I want to care for and protect even though I have no idea why? I know this sucks for you, but think about what I’m going through here.”

“You think I’m not thinking about you?” you demand, shaking your head, “You’re all I’ve been thinking about, Bradley!”

“Am I?,” he asks, and your mouth drops at the words, but he keeps going anyway even though every instinct in him is screaming at him to shut up. “I trust you without being able to remember you, but it’s hard to do that if you keep things from me. I have no idea what the fuck is going on the majority of the time and you’re the only one I have who will tell me things. Or don’t you want me to remember?”

The words came out harsher than he anticipated. The look on your face made him wish that he could take them back. His anger dissipated as he saw the tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally fall.

Your name left his lips, but you cut him off before an apology could follow behind.

“Of course I do,” you choked out, a sob catching in your throat. It looks like there’s more you want to say, but after a moment, you just shake your head, your breathing labored. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

Those weren’t the words he expected. Alarm bells are ringing loudly in his head, demanding he fix what he’s done here.

“What?”

“I need some air,” you explain, your voice cracking. His heart ached watching you gather your phone and keys.

He speaks your name again, pleading and reaching out for you as you step toward the front door. To his surprise, you ripped your arm out of his grasp. “You don’t call me that,” you snapped. Bradley’s eyes widened. He watches as you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” you promise. You don’t look at him as you grab a pair of shoes from the closet by the front door, slipping them on. You don’t slam the door when you leave, but the sound of it closing still echoes like gunfire to him.

He sinks back onto the couch, his aching head in his hands, wondering what the hell he had just done.

————

An hour has passed and you still weren’t back yet. Bradley has taken to pacing back and forth through the living room, peeking out of the curtains by the front door. He shouldn’t have let you leave when you were that upset. He shouldn’t have made you that upset to begin with. He was out of line.

When he really thinks about it with a clearer mind, he understands to an extent why you didn’t tell him about taking the test. He was virtually a stranger to you right now. There would have been little point to filling him in right now when it would have just panicked and confused him. He knows, deep down, that if the test would have been positive that you would have told him. But he had been so scared at that moment, overhearing you on the phone like that. And if he really admitted it to himself, he was jealous, too. He wanted to be the one you confided in for all of those things, big or small, certainty or uncertainty. But he had done nothing to really earn that.

It wasn’t fair that he accused you of not thinking about him, either. It was so clear in everything that the two of you did that you were taking him into consideration. You had stayed with him every single day in the hospital. You had taken an impromptu leave of absence from work and drove him to all of his appointments. You cooked all of his meals for him and made sure he took his medicine on time and were readily available if he needed anything. You did everything you could to make him as comfortable as he could possibly be in this impossibly uncomfortable situation. You had sacrificed everything for him, and he was a jerk to you in response.

He really, really wants you to come home soon.

He had gotten his phone back, but he hadn’t brought himself around to touching it yet, knowing it would be full of a whole life that he wasn’t ready to face yet. Would you even answer if he called at this point?

Maybe he could go look for you instead.

Right when he’s about to grab his shoes, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees you climbing the steps to the back porch through the window in the kitchen.

You must have come through the back gate instead. He doesn’t even care if it was because you wanted to avoid running into him immediately, so long as you were safe.

You don’t unlock the door or move to enter the house. Instead, he watches as you settle into one of the plush chairs you have out there below the window that faces into the yard. Your back is to him now, but he’s breathing easier that you’re in his line of sight; you’re okay.

He lets you be, for a little while. But after another 20 minutes had passed and the sun started setting without you coming inside, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was vibrating with the need to be near you again, to talk to you and apologize. He didn’t like being on the outs with you like this, and he knew it was mostly his fault.

Your knees are tucked into your chest and your head leant back, but he could see that your eyes were open. They turned to him when he cracked open the door.

“Hey,” he said simply.

“Hey.” Your voice is still thick with the tears you had cried earlier. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing he was the one who caused it.

“Do you mind if I join you out here?”

“Sure.”

He steps out onto the porch, sliding the door shut behind him. You look back out into the orange covering your background as he sinks into the chair next to you.

“How uh..how was your walk?”

“It was fine,” you respond, hugging your knees a little bit closer. You go to push a piece of hair behind your ear and your ring glints in the setting sun.

“I was worried about you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear him. But you do, turning your head to look at him. For the first time, he can’t quite read the look on your face. He takes a shaky breath, rubbing his palms on his thighs as he tries to figure out his words. “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have kept something that big from you.”

He shakes his head, because blaming yourself is the last thing he wants for you. “You were looking out for me,” he says, “I understand that now. You…you would have told me, if the results were different. I know that.”

You nod, not saying anything, and Bradley sighs out your name again. “It wasn’t fair for me to snap at you like that. To yell at you like that. I-I’m so sorry.”

“You’re going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “but so are you. All of this, me being hurt and not….” he cuts himself off, but by the way you close your eyes and let a tear slip down your cheek, you knew exactly what he was going to say.

Not remembering us.

“I’ll never be mad at you for being injured, baby,” you say quietly. The term of endearment takes him by surprise. You were always careful with calling him by his name in an unnecessary effort to make him more comfortable; part of him wondered if you were trying to curb his own guilt.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says back. He desperately wants you to know that. You take a shuddering breath at the words.

“This isn’t your fault,” you say it like it’s an oath, so much so that he almost believes you. But it was hard to do that when there were tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Having you here is harder than I thought it would be,” you admitted so quietly that Bradley could barely hear you. “It’s like a part of me is missing, even though you’re right here in front of me. And I know it’s hard for you to not remember anything, and I’m being selfish-“

“You aren’t being selfish.”

You chuckle humorlessly, wiping away at your tears.

“I’m serious,” he says, and his fingers itch to reach for you. “I think you may be the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You’ve done nothing but take care of me the last two weeks, even when I was in the hospital.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” you promise, “You’re the most important person in the world to me, Bradley.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that at first, overcome with the emotions that it caused. He thinks that he would do anything for you, too.

“I want to remember you,” he finds himself saying, and your eyes shoot to him again, startled at the words. He nods. “I’m not-I’m not good at saying how I feel. But I’ve never, ever felt like I do when I’m with you. You give me butterflies. And I have this instinctual urge to protect you and make you happy. Being around you has been the best part of everyday, even if I’m so confused the whole time.”

You sniffle as more tears fall.

“You say all those things about me,” he continues, “and how you’ll always take care of me. And I know I would do the same for you. Even now.”

He lets out a shaky breath, ”It’s like I know who you are right here,” he taps his hand against his chest over his heart, and you let out a small sob. He raises his hand to tap his fingers against his forehead, too. “But I think I need your help to remember you here, okay?”

“I can do that,” you hiccup, nodding rapidly. “We can do it together.”

“That sounds nice.” It really, really does. He returns your soft, watery smile, and he revels in how your eyes shine in the moonlight that had appeared, looking at him like he really was something special to you.

“Can I -” you stop, clearing your throat and shaking your head as if you’re trying to talk yourself out of something.

“What?” he encourages.

“Nothing.”

“No,” he insists, “please. Tell me.”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his answer; he wants to do whatever he could for you.

Your breathing is shaky, and your voice is as small as he had heard it since he’d opened his eyes and had no idea who you were to him. Your eyes are bright with tears and dull with heartache all at the same time, but you’re still so heartbreakingly beautiful to him.

“You tell me everyday. Multiple times most days, and even when you’re deployed, I don’t think you’ve gone this long without saying it somehow. I’ve been wanting to hear it so bad since I got the call you were hurt, because I knew it would mean that you’re okay, and I know you aren’t okay, but you’re here and that’s all that really matters and I-”

He whispers your name to stop your rambling, worried about how tightly you were wringing your hands together and how quickly your breaths were coming. “What is it?”

“Can you just…tell me you love me? Please?”

Tears spring to his eyes this time, hating himself for putting you in this situation where you ever, ever had to ask him for something like this. The him from three weeks ago would hate the him sitting here right now. Hell, current him hates himself a little bit. He pushes that hatred aside, though, because this is something he can do. You’re going through misery because of him and this is the first request you had of him.

He doesn’t stop himself this time from reaching out for you. He drops to his knees in front of the chair you were curled up in, cupping your face in his hands. You gasp softly through your tears, reaching up and gripping his wrists in your own hands. He likes to think it was because you wanted to hold him there against you. Even with your tears splashing against his skin, it feels so right, touching you like this.

You were breathing the same air as one another. He wipes a tear away when it hit his skin. He waits until your glassy eyes lock with his own to whisper the words: “I love you.”

And he knows, in the deepest depths of his soul, even after so little time passing since being reintroduced to you, that it’s true. He feels a peace settle over him that hadn’t been there before; a missing piece slotting into place, even if the puzzle is nowhere near complete. Saying it feels so, so right, and he can’t help but close the distance between the two of you. It’s a gentle touch, but your lips are so soft against his that he leans into it.

There's electricity burning under his skin.

Something flickers in his mind, like a light struggling to turn on. A burnt orange dress and a Cinderella reference, cobblestone streets and a latte that tastes better on your lips than in the cup. There’s a word right there, and he struggles for a moment to grasp onto it. But when he does, it’s like he’s seeing in color after being in a black and white movie.

“Pumpkin,” he breathes against your lips, “I call you Pumpkin.”

You sob, then, nodding your head. You’re so close that he can feel your nose brushing against his. You kiss him again, the salt of your tears mixing with his. Your hands move from where they had been grasping his wrists to wrap around his body and you let yourself fall into him, slipping from the chair to meet him on the ground.

When you pull away from his kiss, you bury your face in his neck, still crying softly. He holds you against him tightly.

“I’m right here,” he says into your hair like a promise, pressing his lips wherever he can reach, “we’ll remember everything together.”

----

Part Six :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster x you

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missathlete31 · 2 months

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My Guess for the Top Gun 3 Movie Plot -

This is what I THINK it will be about, not necessarily what I WANT it to be about:

I think it's going to be way more Rooster centric but begin with Maverick to not scare off the loyalists right from the start. (But also if they begin the title credits with anything BUT planes taking off to the Main Theme, I'll walk out of the theater myself lol).

So it opens with Maverick in his hangar. He will be retired but still flying his own planes and restoring them. We see on his board of memories that Maverick is still close to Bradley and the Daggers (showing some of the other characters and where their lives have taken them) but the most important part will be a yet to be identified woman in some of the photos with Bradley, including what must be their wedding photo. Maverick walks away from the wall, cleans himself off and heads out on his motorcycle- Classic Danger Zone moment.

He arrives at a cute little bungalow type house in North Island. It's Bradley's and he welcomes his Godfather with a hug hello before bringing him inside. There we meet Rooster's wife (let's call her Jennifer to make it easier) who hugs Mav as well, and fusses him to sit while they bring dinner over to the table.

Dinner is a comfortable affair until Bradley brings up that his latest leave is up and he will be getting his orders soon. Jennifer immediately looks worried which Mav notices so he tries to play it off as maybe Bradley will be assigned another teaching position if he can manage not to annoy the Airboss again. Rooster takes the bait, says it wasn't his fault the man was uptight (showing a much freer and fun Bradley than the last movie) leading to them discussing all of Mav's teaching mishaps as well.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, and Bradley walks Pete out to his motorcycle. Before they part, Rooster shares that he has been hearing talks that they will be deployed towards the unrest in (I'd assume the studio will put in the area that will offend the least amount of people). Pete nods, he's heard the same whispers, but has been hoping Bradley's team will be spared. He warns Bradley to be careful regardless of where they go and to keep him informed. When Pete gets home he sees news reports of war and planes crashing and he looks miserable.

Cut to North Island where hopefully Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates (if both actors come back) stand in the briefing room talking to two Commanders: Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin. Both men stand at attention and listen as they are informed their teams are being deployed together. They will be tasked with aerial support and surveillance for the war area. When they are dismissed we learn they do get along much better now since the last movie. The rivalry is still there but it's more playful, Jake is still cocky and a bit of a jerk but Bradley gives it back just as much. The two head off to their respective teams to talk to them. We meet Rooster's team, a bunch of new pilots, young but good. They all seem eager to prove themselves in combat. Bradley is sure to reiterate to them that this is a war zone, this isn't games anymore, but the real thing. The team looks a bit more nervous now but agree and get to work with shaping up and preparing to ship out.

Back at home, Bradley informs Jennifer of his new orders as they lay together in bed. She worries, as he expects, but he promises to do everything he can to come back to her. She looks like she wants to tell him something but doesn't, and they both look uneasy as they turn off the lights to go to sleep.

Deployment goes well at first. It's all basic routes and routines and both Rooster's team and Hangman's team do well. There would be a bunch of clips of their time on the ship: the teams hanging out off duty, Bradley writing letters or calling Jennifer and Mav, or just interactions with each other.

One day alarms are blaring and all the pilots are woken up. Immediate air support is needed to protect a UN-sanctioned ammunition move that is under attack by the enemy forces. It's a toss up for which team will be sent up but finally the Admiral on deck sends Hangman's team. He offers Bradley a look before he heads out, and Rooster can't help feel like this flight is going to be different. He heads back down to his quarters to tell his team to stand-down, but they all stay to listen on the radio.

What was thought to only be a ground attack escalates very quickly. Hangman's team is ambushed and it is a massacre in the sky. Bradley is forced to listen as planes start dropping, nothing they can do to get out of there as they are out-numbered and severely out gunned. Seresin tries to protect his team and manages to get two of his pilots back but he himself is killed. Bradley is speechless.

The funeral for Hangman brings back a lot of the Daggers (as many as can be brought back due to scheduling). Rooster is really taking it hard as he feels like it very easily could have been him that was up there that day and faced all those enemy fighters. He knows he's lucky it wasn't but he also doesn't know when his luck is finally going to run out. He loves Jennifer and he is scared that he will leave her like his mother was left. Maverick sees Bradley struggling and tries to talk to him but old habits die hard and Bradley pushes him away, focusing on trying to help Hangman's family (because I think he would be married with a maybe a kid or two).

After the funeral Pete learns from Cyclone or Hondo that Rooster has put in to be permanently grounded. He goes to find his godson, learning during the trip that Bradley and Jennifer are expecting. Afraid of history repeating itself, Rooster explains that he can't go back out there, not after watching how easily Hangman was killed, and knowing the same thing could happen to him. He refuses to do that to Jennifer or his future child. Maverick takes the role of Viper in this movie, talking to Bradley about his fears and telling him that flying is in his blood and he belongs out there. He can't control what might happen up there but he also can't let the fear of the what if's stop him. Bradley tells Maverick he will think about it but still doesn't rejoin his team.

This part is a little less developed but:

As the conflict heats up, Bradley is stationed back at a base on land. He hears of the devastation and learns of the casualties but still he hesitates. I'm not sure what the catalyst will be that gets him back out there (maybe he loses another teammate? Or someone else from the Daggers gets sent instead? I think it would be dramatic and maybe cliché but even maybe Bradley gets to hear his child's heartbeat for the first time and decides that his son deserves a father who doesn't hide and instead fights). Or to give Tom more screen time, maybe the two get to fly together again for a training and Bradley realizes that Maverick was right, his place is in the sky protecting his family and his country. Either way, Bradley deploys and rejoins his team.

Cut back to dogfight scenes. It will be dicey but Bradley will prevail, save the day for whatever chaotic mission needed to be complete, celebration on the deck, maybe even give Bradley his own little protégé that helps save his neck.

Movie ends back at the Hangar, Maverick is walking with his back to the camera over to the wall. When the camera shifts, there is a baby in his arms: it's little Nicholas Bradshaw and Pete is showing him all the photos of his family. The baby giggles at a photo of Carole and Goose, and then we see Bradley and Jennifer come up too, the whole family together and happy.

The End lol

Let it be known- I also think Hangman might live and just be really hurt. Depends on how high they want the shock value. If he's only hurt then he can talk to Rooster too about getting back up there (helping their relationship as well).

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun 3 #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise #miles teller #nick goose bradshaw #bradshaw family #this is just my opinion #just for fun #jake hangman seresin #top gun: maverick #dagger squad

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ash5monster01 · 11 months

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Lessons of You Part 6

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x FemReader

Warnings: Minors DNI, fluff, mentions of depression, smut, broken reader, 18+ (very smutty chapter 🫣) a/n: I fucking suck at smut so I apologize, just bear with me. also sorry this took forever, I’m a busy girl

Summary: Blake Parker was used to running. When life got hard, she’d run. The idea of sticking around to end up broken was scarier then she’d like to admit. So she hid away, cut all ties, and lived contently on her own. She was done running because no one could find her there. That is until a Navy Pilot runs into her life, and she learns allowing yourself to love can be scary, but hiding from it can be even worse.

word count: 2,996

Intro, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Final

Masterlist

Spending the weekend with Bradley was better than Blake had ever imagined. He had done so much for her in their little time together, including reuniting her with her cousins. If she hadn’t had his multiple talks she never would’ve felt the push to stop being stubborn and text them. But now she had them back, and between that and a warm Bradley in her bed she realized how truly lonely she was before. Her and Bradley had only kissed but surprising herself she figured maybe soon she could see herself trying things with him. The only issue was he was one guy, one person she could love, when multiple people she loved lived on the other side of the country.

Monday morning Bradley was supposed to report back to base and continue training for the rest of the week. Yet no one had still successfully completed the course. He would never tell Blake that the mission seemed that unlikely. Just like he planned to slip out early in the morning and not wake her with some sappy goodbye. Yet as he should’ve predicted Blake awoke beside him, rolling over and curling her arms around his bare waist. “Be safe big B”

“I will, I promise” Bradley’s heart clenched around the words he wasn’t sure he could keep. His father couldn’t keep them so why should he?

“Call me whenever you’re free, or come see me if you get anytime at all” his eyes widened as she told him this, figuring after this weekend she wanted to go back to her loneliness, but he had changed her. What she didn’t know was she had changed him too. How could you just meet someone and already feel so strongly about them?

“I hope you know I’m going to take you up on that offer and abuse my privileges as much as possible” Blake giggled as he rolled over into her, pressing a chaste kiss against her head. He was happy they had gone from her not wanting to exchange numbers to wanting him to text her as much as he could.

“I wouldn’t expect any less” she told him as he stood to retrieve his clothes.

“I’m going to be thinking about you the entire time I’m up there” he told her as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Think of me on solid ground, keep your focus on flying” Bradley grinned at her again and leaned over the bed to press a kiss to her lips.

“Get some sleep, I’ll talk to you as soon as I can” Blake nodded and gave him one last soft smile before he was out the door. He kept his promise and had texted her any chance he got. When Blake wasn’t texting him she was texting her cousins. For the first time in a long time her week was exciting, interesting, and not just the same old routine with her same old thoughts. She was so thankful Brdley had done this for her. Thankful that Bradley was in her life. Then he showed up on her doorstep, she had just gotten off the phone with her Mom who was trying to convinve her to move back home, when she found a solemn Bradley on her front porch and she knew.

"You were picked?" he nodded and she felt herself take a gasp of air, like she was trying to breathe. She had prayed he wouldnt get picked when at the same time she wished he did because he desrved to show off his skill, to prove to his Dad that he was a good pilot just like him.

"My Uncle showed up on Monday, proved that the flight was possible. He announced who he picked today" Blake opened the door so he could come inside which Bradley had accepted as he made a B-line for her couch. Blake wasted no time sitting beside him and he wrapped his arm around her quickly. They were suggested to not leave base to keep focus but Bradley figured he couldn’t go without seeing her one last time.

"When do you leave?" she asked quietly, not wanting to think about the danger he would be in when she had come to care for him so much.

"Mission is first thing in the morning, I can't stay tonight" Blakes heart beat faster and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to calm down. She was being reminded of the exact reason she didn’t get close to people, because you could lose them.

"I talked to my Mom today, I think I might be moving back home" an ‘oh’ fell from Bradleys lips as she said this and she nodded, knowing she made the right choice waiting until after this whole mission thing. "I haven't told her yes yet, but my cousins have been texting and calling, and having them in my life again it is so hard to be so far away. I haven't seen them in so long"

"Understandable, if my Mom was still around I'd have no reason to stay in San Diego other than work" Blake knew he would understand but she hated brigning it up when the outcome of their relationsip becoming a relationship at all was slim. Bradley could die and she was moving away, to far to keep in touch.

"How long do you have till you have to be back?" Blake asked and Bradley looked down to his watch that laid on his wrist.

"A few hours" and just like that Blake was on his lap in a second, smashing her lips against his so hard his head spun for a moment. If this was possibly the last time they were going to see eahcother she wasn’t gong to waste it. So she feverishly kissed him, like her whole depended on it.

Bradley immediately knew this kiss was different because the previous times they had kissed her hands would always stay in one of three places. On his neck, on his waist, or on his back, pushing him closer as if that was possible. He knew this because her touch set his skin on fire, practically seared him, and he had memorized exactly where she had touched him. Yet now, those hands were on his shoulders, then his chest, then undoing each button on his Hawaiian shirt one by one. His heart nearly doubled in speed as she removed the fabric from his shoulders.

Removing her lips from his, Bradley’s breath got caught in his throat as he watched her grip the bottom of her shirt, and begin to pull it up and over her head. He knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, he made a mental note of that the minute he showed up at the door, and now she was removing her shirt and so dreadfully slow. Suddenly Bradley realized what was happening and set his hands on hers, the shirt not even an inch from showing him what he wanted to see the most.

“Are you sure?” he practically whispered, not wanting to ruin anything with the girl. He hadn’t connected with somebody on this level in so long.

“Bradley, I haven’t been sure about anything in my life for the last few years. But right now, here with you, is the most sure I’ve ever been” Bradley couldn’t help the dopey smile that reached his face from her words, and without another thought he removed his hands and allowed her to finish taking off the shirt.

Blake heard him suck in a sharp breath as she revealed her bare breasts, and she felt her nipples harden from the cool air and the large man beneath her. “Fuck” Bradley moaned and after one last glance to Blakes eyes he put his hands on her. Her head fell back the minute he made contact and he used this opportunity to place his mouth on one. Once he did she straightened up, surprised at the sensation. Bradley hummed softly against her chest as her hands curled in his hair, a new place to memorize her touch. Once he gave both breasts attention he blew softly at them, his breath hitting the wet spots he left behind which caused Blake to squirm in his lap.

“You’re gorgeous” he told her before locking his lips on hers again. Blake feverishly kissed back as he stood up, her still in his arms, and started walked towards the bedroom. She couldn’t help but giggle as they ran into a few things, Bradley trying to focus on kissing her while navigating his way down the hall.

Blake squealed lightly as he dropped her on the bed, smiling up at the boy. Bradley smirked as he shed his shorts. Blake took a moment to admire the way his black boxers looked on him. She never wanted to forget. Yet she didn’t have long to look considering he was leaning over her again, hands curling into the top of her sweatpants and slowly tugging them down. She dropped her head back, chest heaving at the anticipation of being naked with Bradley.

“I’m glad I met you” Blake said once Bradley had removed her pants and began to lean over her again. Bradley adorned a smug smile as she said it, the sentence confirming he meant as much to her and she did to him.

“Me too Blake” and then he silenced her again with a hard kiss, her head reeling and chest heaving from the brush of his bare skin against hers. They had shared this bed many of times before but now they were going to share each other. Blake’s hands had continued to discover Bradley’s body, as if she wasn’t holding herself back from memorizing every curve and angle on his body. His skin was soft, and warm to the touch, she noticed he always ran a bit warm than most. Considering she shared a bed with him and was used to always being cold.

Bradley’s one arm held himself up, while the other curled under her, pressing softly between her shoulder blades, and pushing her bare breasts against his chest. He basked in the feeling, realizing how lucky he was to be here. When he first met Blake she didn’t let anyone in, and now he was going to connect with her on a level that most people don’t. With this in mind he began to trail his kisses down, reveling in the taste of her skin as he pressed open mouth kisses to her neck, between the valley of her breasts, where he took notice of a birthmark laid between them, and then down her stomach where it jumped from the feeling of his lips on her.

Bradley hummed against her when her hands tangled into his hair, looking for stability as he made her feel sensations she hadn’t in a long time. He noticed the small gasp she made as his fingers curled into her underwear, slowly pulling down the fabric, and kissing each spot of new and exposed skin. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was experienced but she didn’t entirely mind. Especially once he had freed her from the rest of her clothes and put his mouth on her before she could process a thought. Bradley smiled in satisfaction as her whole body jumped once his tongue had slid between her folds. Her fingers scratched against his scalp but he didn’t mind one bit, despite being extremely hard from all of this, grinding into the mattress was enough relief as he got to pleasure the perfect girl in front of him.

“Fuck Bradley” Blake panted heavily as he continued to eat her out like a professional. The feeling of his tongue tasting every inch of her was euphoric, and then slowly he began to finger her and she was pretty sure she forgot her name. By the time he had added two fingers her knees began to shake and tighten around his head. Bradley smiled against her heat as the coil in her stomach began to snap. He felt her flutter against him and her body fall limp against the mattress. His dick twitched over the thought he had done that to her.

“You’re doing so good baby” Blake gave him a dopey smile as he stood up, preparing to peel off his boxers. Yet before he could she sat up despite her body’s protests and grabbed the hem of his boxers.

“You take off mine, I take off yours” she told him, seduction dripping from her lips. Bradley’s head fell back and let out a small groan as she released him from his boxers. Before he had even dropped his head to look back at her, her hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, giving a light squeeze before slowly pumping him. “I knew you’d be big”

“Don’t stroke my ego” Bradley growled, growing somehow impossibly harder as her tongue darted out and wiped away the pre-cum at his tip.

“I already am” she smirked at him and Bradley chuckled, but his laugh was cut short as she took him completely into her mouth, sucking, and using her hands where her mouth couldn’t reach. He noticed how she hummed against him, offering a vibrating sensation. This time his hands took purchase in her hair, tugging at the chocolate tresses as she got to taste as much of him as he did her. The minute he felt himself getting close he pulled away, her mouth releasing with a pop which made his hard on hurt even worse.

“I have to be inside of you right now” he told her, his own hand wrapping around his dick for some relief. Blake smiled and laid back down on the mattress, eyes never leaving him as she looked through her lashes.

“I’m right here” she said with a smile and Bradley moved towards her quickly. He was not shy about settling himself between her thighs, grinding against her heat as he pressed another soft kiss to her lips. Bradley felt her shuddered breaths against his mouth as he dragged his dick between her folds. His mouth stayed pressed against hers, them breathing from each others lips. When Bradley finally pressed the tip of himself inside of her, she gasped into his mouth which gave Bradley another thing to memorize.

Bradley pulled back, focused on sinking deeper into the girl. Once he was fully bottomed out he looked at the girl beneath him, the rise and fall of her chest from the anticipation of getting used to his size. Without sharing any words he met her eyes and she gave a fast nod, indicating she needed some movement. He didn’t need anything else before he pulled out and plunged into her again. Blake reached out for him as he continued to thrust against her. Bradley smiled and allowed the change in angle as her hands wrapped around his waist. Once he began to pick up speed her nails began to dig into him, dragging against his back. He didn’t mind, any memory he could keep from tonight he would.

“Would it be weird to say I love you, in some crazy, strong, barely know you, connection kind of way” it wasn’t an I love you in the sense of knowing someone so deeply and accepting every part of them, but an I love you for helping change me for the better and knowing me without really knowing me. It meant nothing and so much all at the same time.

“Not crazy at all, because I feel the same way” Bradley smiled and dropped down to kiss the girl again. Blake slowly pulled her hands from his back and to his own, guiding them to hold her chest as he continued to thrust into her. The minute his hands made contact and started to grope her tits she felt her stomach begin to tighten again. “I’m close B”

“Me too” he told her, the minute she made him fondle her he realized he couldn’t last much longer.

“Finish in me, I’m on birth control” Bradley didn’t need to be told twice as he picked up speed and suddenly she was pulsing around him, milking him for all he was worth, and he let go. Dropping down to suck on her tits as she pulsed against him and a stutter began to mess with the rhythm of his hips. He stayed buried inside of her as they came back from their highs, him noticing he had left quite a few bruises on her breasts.

“I don’t want to leave” he told her, relishing in the fact they were still one being at this moment,

“Me too” she told him, hands brushing through his hair again. He shook his head, looking into her eyes.

“You need too, your family needs you. I would do anything to have a family to go back too. I won’t be the reason you don’t” Blake felt tears come to her eyes as she thought of the poor boy beside her who had lost so much.

“I’ll be you’re family whenever you need Bradley, I’ll only be a phone call away” Bradley smiled at her kind offer but knew that she had led him to try and make amends with Maverick. Despite everything and all the tension he knew some family was better than none. He knew his parents would be happy to know they still had each other. Now if they both survived the mission, they could do their best to get to know each other again.

“I plan on using that phone call, especially after tonight” Blake chuckled at his way of saying he would need her for a booty call.

“That would be a long way to travel for just one night Bradley” she told him, cupping his face in her hands.

“For you it would be worth it, and you forget I know how to fly a plane”

Tag list: @emma8895eb @aemondssiut

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greenorangevioletgrass · 2 years

Note

The actress and the aviator >>> pls this is amazing could I request hall & oates you make my dreams for blurb week

fluffy fluffy stuff! i had a few options for this, but then decided to do a nerdy behind-the-scene fic (with a cameo from another famous person! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: pregnancy (again!), they have a daughter now(!!!), take your hubby & daughter to work day, nothing but fluff

***

Saturday mornings are Rooster’s favorite time of the week. He can usually sleep in just a little and wake up to the warm California sun instead of his blaring alarm for once, and a lot of the time, he wakes up to you curled up half on top of him, his legs tangled up in yours.

Some mornings, though, he wakes up with a jolt, as someone lands on his bed and jostles him around until he wakes. He groans, positively moose-like in his half-asleep noise.

The little culprit giggles. “Wakey wakey!”

“Hng…”

“Noooo, come on, Daddy!” she whines, and it’s annoying how cute she sounds. “We’re coming to work with Mommy!”

Her tiny hand starts pulling on his mustache and he avoids it by burying his face in the pillow. “Hey! Stevie— come on. No.”

She only resorts to tugging her dad’s exposed ear, and with that, Rooster grabs her into a tickle attack and raspberry blows on her stomach, sending her into a fit of cackles.

“I think somebody’s awake…” you tease in a sing-songy tune from the bathroom door, all dressed up and radiant in your light blue dress. He’s not sure whether it’s the late summer sun or your makeup (if you’re even wearing any, he can’t tell sometimes) or the way your belly swells so beautifully under the sleek fabric, but he’s never been more in love with you in his life.

(He finds himself saying that a lot these days. And he means it every time.)

Offering your hand to your daughter, you tell her, “Let’s go and get you ready, kiddo, so your dad can go shower.”

“Noooo, come on, five more minutes!” He whines while his daughter climbs off of the bed, bounding towards you.

You look at him pointedly. “Nuh-uh. You’re on breakfast duty, so. On your feet, sailor.”

“Aviator.”

“Whatever.”

He smiles, watching the loves of his life animatedly chatting on your way out of the room. And despite his ‘complaints,’ he goes over his morning routine humming a happy song. Making breakfast, preparing snacks, sipping his own coffee and brewing your special tea (lemongrass and ginger with a touch of honey, just how you like it.)

Because there’s nothing —and he means nothing— he’d like more than to spend his day off with his girls, in any way, shape or form. Whether it’s a slow day at home, or singing the full Frozen soundtrack on the way to Los Angeles for “Take-Your-Husband-And-Daughter-To-Work Day.”

“Y/N! Thanks for coming in on short notice,” the director, Nora, greets you with a big hug at the office waiting room. And upon seeing the plus-two tagging closely along, she beams. “And you got your family with you!”

“Yeah, this is Bradley and our little monkey Stevie.” you twiddle her pigtail fondly, while Rooster and Nora shake hands.

The latter crouches down to level with the 4-year-old. “Hi, sweetie! I’m Nora. How are ya? You wanna watch Mommy work and hang out in the control room with us? Yeah?” The woman beams and offers a high-five, which Stevie meets halfway.

You smile at her somewhat tentatively. “Is that okay? She’s pretty chill, and—”

“Of course, of course! In fact…” she pauses thoughtfully, all the while leading the three of you into the recording studio. “Didn’t you say your husband can sing?”

Rooster finds you and Nora looking at him like you guys are plotting something, and he can’t help but panic a little bit. “I mean, I can hold a tune…?”

“He’s being modest.” You shake your head with a chuckle. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, Lin revised the opening number and there’s this part —it’s like two lines— and I thought it’d be cute if…”

And that is how Rooster, in his civilian getup of Hawaiian shirt and jeans, ended up in a cameo role in a Disney princess movie that you’re starring in.

The only film experience he had is Top Gun, and it’s more his turf than yours. But now, alone in a fancy recording booth with nothing but a pair of headphones and a mic in front of him… he is way out of his depth.

“Alright, Bradley. Let’s give it a try, shall we?” Lin-Manuel Miranda’s voice pipes up in his comms (monitor, you would correct him.)

And there’s that, too.

The music starts to play, and he hears other vocal parts singing in his ears. Through the glass that separates the booth from the control room, he sees you, holding Stevie in your arms. Swaying and dancing along to the music, and he decides he’s gonna sing these two little lines for you.

His girls.

Rooster must’ve only been there for 15 minutes max, but when he hears Nora calling it a wrap, he’s so relieved. He returns to the control room filled with cheers and applause, and a teasing remark of you know where to go if you ever decide to leave the Navy from Lin. His little girl reaches out for him, and he’s all too glad to catch her in his arms.

“Now you got one more film credit under your belt,” you whisper in his ear, kissing his cheek.

That is pretty cool, he admits. But he also can’t wait to blend into the background again and let you shine. You’ve always been much better than him at that. It’s your home, after all. He’s more than happy holding Stevie on his lap, as she watches the rough animation on the screen, watching you voice the young princess to life.

Of course, as a 4-year-old, the novelty wears off pretty quickly and she grows more intrigued to mimic “Uncle Lin” and how he vibes and headbangs to the song, and “Auntie G” who conducts the song as the music director. And when that no longer excites her, she moves onto her coloring books. Happy as a clam and quiet as a mouse amidst the busy comings and goings of the studio. You and Rooster always joked that she’s a film set baby who knew ‘quiet on set’ since she was born.

“What do you think, Stevie? Do you like Mommy’s princess song?” You quietly coo at her when you return to the control room, having finished your song of the day.

She looks up from her coloring book, tapping her sky blue crayon onto her chin (something she picked up from you) and decides, “I like Daddy’s bit better.”

The whole room erupts in shock and amusement and adoring stupefaction by this child’s ruthlessness. Lin and Nora nearly keel over laughing. Germaine and Charlie, the studio engineer, have their jaws dropped open. Meanwhile, Rooster is dying at the sight of you clutching your chest in a mixture of emotion; your lips are pulled into a big frown, but your eyes are twinkling in humor in the way that clenches his silly little heart.

“Stephanie Carole Bradshaw… ouch!” you squeak out. “Her dad sang two lines and she went nuts for it. I sang a whole number and she’s just like, nah.”

“She’s daddy’s girl through and through, huh?” Nora teases.

“I swear, if this one comes out a total daddy’s girl too,” you shake your head, looking down on your very prominent baby bump, “I’m gonna riot.”

Rooster simply laughs and puts his arm around your soft waist. Taking your dry, grumpy approach in stride, knowing it’s all in good humor (despite the tiniest touch of edge that maybe you mean it a little bit?). Because despite everything else, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Not for the life of him.

#the actress & the aviator #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x actress!reader #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x actress!reader #ava writes

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lgg5989 · 2 years

Text

MavDad: Missing You

A/N: Here's the next installment of MavDad! Thank you to everyone for reading and your support. As always please leave ideas for future chapters in the comments! 💜

Warnings: mentions of character death, grief

Ps this chapter was only lightly edited so LMK if there are any errors!

MavDad Masterlist

Also on Ao3!

---

Brad woke up to find himself tucked under his mom’s favorite quilt, his nose buried in the fabric, chasing the remaining whispers of a mix of her perfume and lotion. It made his heart hurt, knowing that he would never again be enveloped in her scent as she wrapped him in a hug, God he missed her.

Mav must have tucked him in last night, again. Brad really hadn’t meant to stay up so late but he couldn’t focus on his homework and it was taking longer to complete each night. When he saw the time he knew that it was going to be another long day, 4:37 AM glared back at him in an angry red from the digital clock display on his nightstand.

Bradley knew that laying in bed would be useless, for the last two months his life had been the same routine: wake up too early for school, stare at the picture in the kitchen, go to school, stay late at practice, eat dinner with Mav, and fall asleep on his textbooks.

Right after his mom had passed he had trouble sleeping, but if he worked out hard enough during the day or stayed up a bit later than usual, sleep would find him at night. That had stopped being the case, and now, no matter how many strenuous activities he completed or how late he stayed up, he would always wake by 5AM.

Brad laid in bed for a moment longer before heading downstairs to start the coffee pot. Mav wouldn’t be up until at least 5:30 or 6 so he had some time to himself. As he sat at the table, steaming cup of coffee in his hand, he looked at the picture of him, Mav, and his mom at the zoo. They all looked so happy, with smiles on everyone’s face.

Brad remembered that day so well, he had just turned eight and Mav wanted to do something special for his birthday. So, they had packed a cooler for the day and driven to the San Diego zoo. The day at the zoo was amazing, but his favorite part had been the ride home. He could remember his mom with her feet up on the dashboard of the Bronco, singing along to the radio. Brad was in the back seat, the wind from the open windows ruffling up his hair, he watched the sun set through his window. Mav kept turning to glance back at him as he drove, his aviators perched on his nose, and a wide smile on his face.

Thinking about it, there were only a handful of times in Brad’s life that he can remember Mav not having a smile on his face. However, after Carole’s funeral Mav’s smiles were few and far between. Bradley was worried for Mav. The man had been keeping himself busy ever since Carole died. He was either at work or working on something at home, from the cars to the house, even just doing chores, Mav hadn’t given himself a day to rest since the funeral.

As Brad heard Mav make his way down the stairs, he chugged his now cold coffee. He needed to talk to Mav about what they were both going through, they had agreed to lean on one another and neither of them seemed to be doing a good job of it.

—

Mav was standing in the driveway looking at the house. The time was only 1PM and he had already washed his motorcycles, done some chores, and organized the garage. He had made himself a list of things to do, and he just kept adding to it, even if the items were starting to get a bit ridiculous.

He lost count of how many times he had washed the Bronco and his bikes or organized the garage. His neighbors surely thought that he was crazy, constantly outside baking himself in the sun. He had even deep cleaned their house from top to bottom, twice, except for Carole's room, he couldn’t bring himself to enter her room since she had passed.

Even if he could bring himself to go in, he wouldn’t change anything in it, to him the room was still hers. Thinking about it, Mav realized that Carole’s room had remained untouched since her death. The only person to go in since had been Bradley, to take the quilt off her bed. Brad told him later that it still smelled like her and that it reminded him of being wrapped up in one of her hugs.

Mav had immersed himself in his work, at home and at the base. If he was working then he wouldn’t have to face how much Carole’s loss had rattled him, let alone think about the promise he had made about Bradley.

As poor as he knew his coping skills to be, the person he was really worried for was Bradley. Mav was trying to let Bradley deal with his emotions on his own. He didn’t want to become an overbearing type parent and figured that Brad would come to him if he needed help. However, Mav was getting worried.

Bradley didn’t seem changed to anyone from the outside. He put on a brave face at school and practice, his grades didn’t slip, and if anything, his performance during practices and games improved. He worked harder at the gym, trying to rid himself of his turmoil by training for baseball and, eventually, the Navy.

But Mav could see through him, at home Brad wasn’t the same as he used to be. He was up late at night, Mav often having to come into Brad’s room to move his textbooks from the bed before pulling Carole’s quilt over him and turning out the light. In the morning, Mav would come down to find him sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a picture of Carole and them at the zoo, a cold mug of black coffee sitting forgotten in front of him.

This had been going on for two months now, Carole had been gone four months today, and Mav wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to force Bradley into talking to him, but obviously he needed a different outlet or he was going to exhaust himself physically and mentally.

Mav could only think to try and talk to Brad about what he was feeling, maybe if he opened up some more Brad would too. He knew Bradley would be home around 6 so he figured he had plenty of time to cook up something good for dinner, hopefully he would be more willing to open up after a good meal.

—

All Brad could think about as he got home was how nice a cold shower would feel. Practice had run long today and he felt more than gross caked in dirt and sweat. Brad paused at the door to the laundry room, he could hear music coming from inside, which was unusual since Carole’s passing. As he walked in the house he was hit with the scent of garlic and onions as well as cooking meat. He kicked his dusty shoes off in the laundry room next to his gear before walking into the kitchen.

He smiled as he turned the corner to see Mav reading out of one of his mom’s cook books, a wooden spoon in one hand and a jar of pasta sauce in the other. Judging by the mess on the counter, he had been attempting to make dinner for a while.

“What’s all this?” Brad asked, laughing slightly at Mav’s surprised jump. Mav tried to make dinner for them as often as he could, but rarely was it something very labor intensive.

“I just thought it would be nice to have actual food tonight,” Mav said as he continued reading from the book.

Brad nodded, pausing before hesitantly saying, “I miss mom’s cooking.”

Mav stopped reading and looked up, a small frown on his face, “I know, I miss it too. This is the recipe she used for bolognese sauce, it probably won’t taste the same but I thought I could try.”

“I’m sure it will be great,” Brad said, smiling sadly, “She would want us to make it and think of her.”

Mav gave Brad a small smile, “You’re right, she would.” The two men regarded each other in silence for a minute before Mav added, “Go on up and shower, I think this will be ready by the time you’re done.”

“Sounds good…” Brad said as he walked to the stairs, pausing a moment before turning around, “Do we have Texas Toast?”

“Yes, I picked some up just for you,” Mav said. As soon as he thought about making Carole’s bolognese sauce, he knew that he would have to pick up some Texas Toast for Brad.

Brad gave Mav a real smile, “Okay, good,” before heading back to the stairs and up to shower.

—

Mav felt like he did good, the sauce tasted almost like Carole’s, there must have been something she put in it that wasn’t written in the recipe, the noodles were cooked to perfection, and the garlic bread was a nice golden brown.

He heard Brad jog down the stairs, “Okay, I’m ready for some dinner.”

Mav sighed, the kid was going to eat him out of house and home, “Alright, but let me get some first. Otherwise you’re going to eat it all.”

As the two of them sat down at the table Mav contemplated when he was going to bring up his concerns to Bradley. He decided to try and ease into the conversation, “How was your day today? Practice go well?” Mav asked.

Brad swallowed the huge mouthful of spaghetti he had shoveled in his mouth before answering, “Yeah, it was okay. School has been boring. Practice went well, coach is really impressed with my improvement. How about you?”

“It was alright, I was here most of the day so I knocked a few more things off my to do list,” Mav said quietly before taking a bite of his dinner.

Brad shook his head, “When are you going to finish that list?” he asked around a mouthful of toast.

Mav shrugged, “I don’t know…”

Brad looked at Mav as he wiped his mouth, “Dad,” he said, getting Mav’s attention off his plate, “Are you doing okay?”

Mav was surprised by his question, “Yeah, I’m okay…” he trailed off, pausing a minute before adding, “I miss your mom. She was really the life around this place,” he answered sadly.

“Yeah she was,” Brad agreed, “I’m worried about you. You haven’t taken a break since mom died. You can’t keep working all the time.”

Mav looked at him shocked, this was supposed to be an intervention for Brad but somehow it had turned into an intervention for him. He huffed out a sigh before answering, “I know, its just easier to work than it is to let myself feel it…”

Bradley stayed silent, waiting for Mav to continue.

“I need to work on that. We agreed to lean on each other and I’m still working on that,” Mav finished, before adding, “I’m worried about you too. You keep falling asleep at odd hours of the night and waking up so early. I know that you have been working out extra after practice too.”

Brad hesitated, “I just can’t sleep…” he said in a small voice.

Mav nodded, trying to keep him going.

Bradley huffed out a sigh before continuing, “I stay late at practice because for a while that worked to tire me out, but now its not working anymore. No matter what time I go to bed, I will always be up by 5.”

“Are you stressed,” Mav asked, “Or are you just missin’ your mom?”

“I think I just miss mom,” Brad said, “My mind is too busy and I can’t fall asleep. Then when I do, my dreams are so vivid that I wake up.”

“Yeah, that happened to me when my dad disappeared,” Mav said leaning back in his chair, “I always saw him as untouchable and when he disappeared I used to have dreams about what happened to him.”

“What did you do about it?” Brad asked him.

“Well for a while it was just hard to sleep,” Mav answered sadly, “Eventually, the dreams faded and now that I know what happened to my dad I don’t have to imagine anymore.”

Bradley stayed silent. Why was he having such vivid dreams about his mom? He knew what happened to her.

Mav seemed to read his mind, “Maybe you’re having dreams of her because you want to see her.”

They sat at the table after that in silence, both men considering what the other had to say. When they had finished eating Mav got up to do the dishes. Bradley got up quickly and took the plate from his hand, “Go sit on the couch,” he said as he made his way to the sink.

Mav looked at him with wide eyes, “But-”

“You need to sit down for a minute," Brad stated bluntly, "Besides, I haven’t been helping with the chores."

Mav took a seat on the couch and watched Bradley pack up the leftover food and wash the dishes. When Brad finished, he joined Mav on the couch.

Mav pulled Bradley into his side, ruffing up his hair, “Thanks for calling me on my bullshit kid.”

“Its my job,” Brad said.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, both men lost in their own thoughts, Mav eventually noticed the time.

“Let’s go up to bed,” he said rising off the couch, “Its getting late.”

As they went to part at the top of the stairs, Bradley turned back to Mav, grabbing him for a hug, “Love you dad.”

“I love you too Bradley,” Mav said, gripping Brad tighter, “Try to get some sleep okay?”

As Mav let him go, Bradley replied, “I will.”

Brad laid down to bed that night for the first time in two months actually feeling tired. He slept without dreams, waking only to the blaring of his alarm clock in the morning. Bradley couldn't say that was the end of dreams about his mother, but he almost cherished them when they came. Waking up from a dream about her, while wrapped up in her favorite quilt made him almost feel like she was there, giving him a hug, telling him it would be alright.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #carole bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #goose bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #top gun fanfic #top gun fic

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

lessons ~ yungblud

word count: 1704

request?: yes!

“Can you please write a yungblud imagine. I just need more content of him. Just maybe something cute maybe he teaches her guitar and lot of fluff maybe smut 😏”

description: while they’re stuck inside together in quarantine, dom decides to give his girlfriend private guitar lessons

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

I was laid out on the couch with my feet on Dom’s lap, reading a book while Dom picked at the strings on his guitar.

This was our new routine since the quarantine started: wake up, either spend the day in bed or on the couch, try to stay entertained for the day, go back to bed. Dom usually spent his days writing music, and I had read just about every book I owned and watched nearly everything on Netflix.

I lowered my book to look at Dom. He was so concentrated on his music, his eyes closed as he listened to the melody he was playing. I wondered if it was an original or not.

“Can you teach me to play?” I asked him. His eyes opened and he turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. “I wanna learn how to play the guitar, it’s something to do in quarantine at least.”

“It’ll take some time, guitar isn’t a skill learned quickly or easily,” he said.

I shrugged. “Where else do I have to be?”

He chuckled and moved his guitar. He patted his lap, signaling for me to sit there. I sat up quickly and excitedly, and perched myself on his lap. Dom placed his guitar on my lap and wrapped his arms around me.

“Okay, mimic my arm positioning the best you can with my arms in the way,” he instructed. I did, my arms brushing his. When they were in position, he pulled his arms away, moving to put my fingers in position on the chords. “Fair warning, there’s a lot of finger muscles involved with playing; you gotta stretch ‘em, press hard, and move ‘em fast. Eventually you’ll develop callouses on your fingers, which is good and will help, but until then it’ll be painful.”

“Got it, my fingers will hurt,” I said with a nod.

Dom chuckled and pressed my fingers against the chords. “Strum down on this once.” I did, and a lovely sound rang out from the guitar. “See, that’s an A chord.” He took his hand off of mine and told me, “Try again.”

The sound was not as lovely this time.

“There, when you hear that it means you’re not pressing hard enough.”

He placed my fingers in all sorts of positions on the chords, some that were easy and some not as much. He was patient as I strummed the chords, trying to get a hold of how hard to press on the chords.

Eventually, he began to show me how to play some songs. Obviously, I was pretty shitty and slow first starting out, but as time went on I got a hang of it. Still slow and with a few slip ups, but I was getting there.

Dom had his arms wrapped around my waist and his head on my shoulder as I strummed along to one of his songs that he had taught me. I could feel him humming along as I played, which was giving me a little confidence. Maybe I could pick this up quicker than Dom thought. That’d be pretty cool to have a new skill under my belt.

“Once you’ve mastered the guitar I’ll have to bring you on tour with me to be my new guitarist,” he said when I stopped playing. “Imagine how cool that would be, we could be a touring couple?”

“Uh, no thank you,” I laughed. “I’ll play for you here but I’m not playing in front of people. I’m not that good yet.”

“We have plenty of time to practice. We are stuck in quarantine for who knows how long after all.”

I laughed and turned to stick my tongue out at him. He grabbed hold of my face and kissed me, pulling my tongue into his mouth as he did so. I giggled and pulled away, kissing him lightly on the nose.

After some time, Dom took hold of the guitar again, playing it as I leaned back in his arms and listened. “What’s your favourite song to play on guitar?”

He stopped for a moment, pondering the question. “One of my own or in general?”

“In general, but if the answer to that is a song of your own I’ll allow it.”

He chuckled and began playing again. “I really don’t know. It changes with every new song that comes out or every new song I release. Like for a long time it was the song I did with Colson, then it was that Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper song, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

I made a gesture like I was zipping up my lips and throwing away the key. Dom laughed again and kissed my head.

“I don’t really have a definite answer. I just like playing. It’s soothing, and I feel like I’m creating my music on my own when I do it. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it does. It feels cool to be able to play it. The guitar is like one of those instruments that all the greats could play, and still can play, no matter what genre you’re a part of.”

Dom nodded, resting his head against my shoulder again. I giggled as I recognized the melody of the aforementioned Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga song. I knew he’d never admit it, but Dom loved playing that song so much because it was my favourite song. He often serenaded me with the song at random moments, both when we were alone or with others. He even sang it sometimes when he did livestreams, which garnered all the right reactions from his fans.

This time was no different. With his head on my shoulder, he was able to softly sing the opening part in my ear, swaying us back and forth as he did so. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his guitar and his voice singing to me. As it came to Lady Gaga’s part, I decided to join in. Not a usual occurrence, but I was feeling the music, so I decided to sing along.

Dom seemed shocked at first, stopping all together as if he thought he had heard something. I opened my eyes to look at him, seeing that that smile I loved so much was spread across his face. I leaned back into him as he began to play again, singing what we had dubbed as “our song” together.

When we finished, Dom stopped playing abruptly to start clapping. “Wow baby, that was beautiful! Not only do I have a new guitar player for tour, but a back up singer too!”

I laughed as I wiggled out of his arms, standing to stretch out my cramped feeling limbs. “You can hire so much better to go on tour with you. Besides, I’d probably forget my own name if you were to put me up on that stage. You know I hate crowds.”

“You can’t even see the crowds baby,” he said, placing his guitar aside. “The lights are too bright. You can hear them, but that’s the only indication that they’re there.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you seriously asking me to go performing with you? I’ve only had one guitar lesson and I can barley sing, I don’t think that exactly makes me qualified to go on tour with one of the biggest musicians right now.”

Dom stood from the couch and shrugged. “I mean, if you felt comfortable being on stage I wouldn’t be mad about it, but I do seriously want you to come with me on tour when I can go again. I miss you when you go.”

“I miss you too, but you’ll probably want to get away from me when this quarantine is over. I mean, we will have been stuck together for months, I’m sure you’ll grow tired of me eventually.”

Dom took my hands in his, pulling me towards him. I looked up at him, into his beautiful eyes and at his beautiful partial smile. “I could never grow tired of you.”

I smiled and leaned up to kiss him. His hands ran up my arms to take my face in his hands, holding me to him. He placed small pecks on my lips before kissing the tip of my nose and forehead.

“I mean it, though,” he said. “I would like for you to come on tour with me sometime. I miss you a lot when I go, like to the point where I can’t sleep cause I’m always thinking of you. And maybe that’s sappy and all, but I love you a lot, and being away from you for so long always sucks, especially when the time is extended and I’m not sure how much time I’ll get with you when I get home again.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way sometimes. When Dom went on tour I missed him more than anything. I thought about him every day, at night I’d have trouble sleeping in our big, empty bed without him. I knew it was something I’d have to get used to being with a musician, but it didn’t make the times he left any easier.

“What do you say baby?” Dom asked, and I realized that technically he had asked me something. “Do you wanna come on tour sometime? Live life on the road for a few months, see the world with me and my band?”

When he put it like that, the answer was pretty easy. “Yeah, I’d love to actually.”

I giggled at his adorable dance of excitement before he lifted me into his arms and spun me around. When he put me down, he turned back to the couch and said, “Well, if you’re gonna go on tour with me, we should practice on your guitar playing so you can take your rightful place on stage with me.”

“Or,” I said, “we could take a break from lessons and pass the time with sex?”

Before I could fully comprehend his reaction, Dom had me picked up in his arms and was carrying me to our shared bed room, my laughs filling the house as he closed the door behind us.

#yungblud #yungblud imagine #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic harrison imagine #dominic harrison x reader #dom harrison #dom Harrison imagine #imagine #one shot #request

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veroticker · 4 years

Text

At a stranger’s mercy - Brittany Cournoyer

Summary (from Brittany Cournoyer’s website)

Making eye contact with a killer wasn’t exactly how Bradley Danforth had planned to start his day. As an accountant, he craved structure and routine. What he hadn’t anticipated was being part of a real-life murder mystery with him cast in the starring role.

Death and sorrow were part of Max Donohue’s job description, leaving the detective hardened after years on the job. On his latest case, he’s the one stuck protecting the only witness in a sadistic homicide.

One death becomes two… then three. And soon Max and Bradley find themselves playing a deadly game of cat and mouse. Can Max save Bradley from the clutches of a serial killer? Or will the killer finish what he started?

Blurb

“I blinked my eyes a few times as I allowed them to adjust to the sun pouring through the pale blue curtains hanging on my bedroom window. I still felt tired, like I hadn’t achieved my full, must-needed, eight hours of sleep. Then something hit me in my still-groggy state—my alarm hadn’t gone off.

With a slight groan, I reached for my phone where it was lying on my nightstand, glanced at the phone display, and saw I still had a full thirty minutes left before I was supposed to be awake. This was not good. My entire day was going to be off now.

I set the phone back down and flipped over onto my stomach, my head on the pillow and eyes closed, as I willed my mind to shut off and my body to go back to sleep. I concentrated on evening out my breathing—deep breath in then slow exhale—but it was to no avail. After lying there and wasting a good ten minutes, I finally gave it up. It was no use. My body wouldn’t go back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried, and I was going to have to start my day earlier than usual.

Sitting up slowly, I reached over and grabbed my phone. After pushing a few buttons, I turned off the alarm then got out of bed. I felt unsettled. Unsure of what woke me up so early, I made my way to the bathroom. I kept my shower quick even though I had extra time and went back to my room to grab the clothes I’d ironed the night before. After ensuring my hair was combed off my face and sweeping to the right, I doused my neck and cheeks in aftershave, gave myself a final onceover, and went to the living room to grab my briefcase.

Being a CPA wasn’t the most exciting job in the world, but considering it was close to tax season, my work load had increased quite a bit. Accounting wasn’t the job for everyone, and I was certain most would call it quite boring. But I enjoyed sifting through numbers and figures, determining what could and couldn’t be written off. Numbers only changed when I computed them. Numbers didn’t surprise me or try to throw me for a loop. Numbers didn’t lie.

I had just twisted the knob on my door to head to my car when I caught a glimpse of the time on my watch. I was still early. Following my morning routine and not allowing myself any time to dawdle had left me with an additional fifteen minutes to spare.

I was at a loss about what to do. My trash was already sitting at the curb, I’d stopped the night before and filled up my gas tank, and I wasn’t hungry since I usually ate one of the containers of yogurt that were waiting for me in my office mini fridge. Maybe I could make myself a cup of coffee before I left? Unless... That’s what I would do. I’d swing by my favorite coffee shop and treat myself to one of my preferred drinks. I typically only went at the end of the work week, but I did have the extra time today, and my workload was high. So why not indulge?

Mind made up, I double checked I had my keys and wallet and opened my door. After locking up behind me, I walked to my sensible Kia parked in my driveway and used the key fob to release the locks. And that’s when I felt the unease settle around me.”

(review under the cut)

Review

(audiobook) This is NOT romance. At least, not until the very end, and even then, it’s a suggestion of romance. This is a murder mystery, with a serial killer and lots of blood. But it’s also the story of two men who meet under less than agreeable circumstances, and slowly learn to at least appreciate each other, and maybe more.

The book navigates between scenes of carnage or police investigations, and more everyday scenes--I loved the details of Bradley’s life with Max. There’s a contrast here that makes the crimes scenes even more gruesome. All those scenes help building Bradley and Max’s characters.

The narrator did a fine job--although I’m not a fan of his Max’s voice, it makes him sound older than he is, and not particularly handsome. Technically, the recording isn’t great though, as we often have the last word of a sentence slightly cut.

There’s no cliffhanger, but if you want to know how Bradley and Max’s relationship develops, you need to read also book 2 AND 3--this one was just released. It’s a very slooooooow burn.

Quickie

Series: Badge and bullets series #1 (this one can be read as a standalone, the mystery is resolved, but the rest of the series follows the first book)

Hashtags: #romantic suspense #MM romance #serial killer #slow burn

Triggers: gruesome murders with graphic depiction

Main couple: Bradley Danforth and Max Donohue

Hotness: 0/5

Romance: 1/5

+ the case is interesting and the suspense is there

- no romance in this first installment, but we’re warned about it

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Brittany Cournoyer’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

#Brittany Cournoyer #At a stranger's mercy #romantic suspense #MM romance

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redgillan · 7 years

Text

Selfless Love - part 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: A journey toward recovery and the story of a broken man falling in love with a woman.

Word Count: 900

Warnings: Language, Injuries, Blood

A/N: I loved the feedback I got from you ^^ You’re all incredibly nice, thank you! Meet your neighbour, my beautiful cupcakes ♥

Series Masterpage

After a few weeks, Bucky created his own routine. It helped him deal with his anxiety. He woke up every morning at 8am, even though he only slept three hours tops. Then, he padded his way to the kitchen where he ate his oatmeal and sipped his coffee. He spent his morning working out at the gym before he dealt with the paperwork and reports.

He hated paperwork with a passion, but he did it without complaining. His therapist suggested that he should socialize a bit, so he reluctantly joined the others for dinner.

His days were dull and monotonous and he liked them this way. For a moment at least. Now, he desperately needed some excitement.

One night, he was sitting at his desk, writing in his journal, when he heard groans and moans coming from the room next door. He looked up from his notebook and frowned. The clock Steve gave him read 3AM.

It took him a while to understand that those were not moans of pleasure. He peeked into the hallway and saw light under your door.

You came back from your mission with a large gash on your shoulder and assured Natasha and Tony that you were fine. You were in your bathroom, trying to reach the first-aid kit when someone knocked on your door. You grunted loudly and made your way to the door.

“Sir Bucky,” you gasped at the sight of the long-haired soldier.

You cringed at the sound of your words. You could practically hear Clint’s laugh ringing in your head. Bucky’s concerned frown turned into an embarrassed smile.

“Just Bucky,” he replied with an awkward chuckle, then cleared his throat. “Are you okay? You’re kind of bleeding on the rug.”

“Oh, that thing?” You casually gestured to the large wound on your shoulder. You tried to act as if it were just a scratch, but the pain was unbearable. “Yeah, it hurts so bad,” you whined, dropping the act. “Can you help me?”

Bucky pushed the door open and closed it once he was inside. He told you to sit on the bed while he went to the bathroom to take the first-aid kit. When he came back, he saw you grimacing at your wound.

He sat next to you and soaked some clean rag in iodine. You jumped when he started to clean your wound. You pressed your eyes shut, focusing on happy thoughts. He was quiet, too quiet for your liking. Your moans and groans echoed through the room, making you feel like an idiot.

The tip of his tongue poked out in concentration while he stitched you up. His warm breath fanned across your neck and shoulder. You shivered.

“It tickles.”

“The needle?” he asked with a curious frown.

“No, your breath.”

“Sorry.”

You relaxed when he wrapped a strip of gauze around your shoulder. He made sure it wasn’t too tight before he gathered the dirty compresses.

“Thank you.” You smiled sheepishly as he opened your bedroom door.

“No problem.”

His tight smile made you feel like you had upset him. You wrapped your non-injured arm around your middle, trying to seek some comfort. Bucky noticed the pained expression on your face and tried to muster up a nice smile, but you were no longer looking at him. He returned to his room, cursing himself for being so awkward.

The next morning, at precisely 7AM, a loud noise startled him out of his sleep. His instincts kicked in. He burst into your bedroom, his gun drawn and his senses on high alert. He scanned the room, then lowered his weapon when he saw you lying on the carpeted floor.

“Morning.” You grinned through the pain. “I was trying to get dressed, but it’s not easy with only one hand.”

“I know the feeling.” He held out his hand to help you up.

“I’m Y/n by the way,” you said. “Nice to finally meet you. So, do you like your room?” He nodded and you tilted your head, smiling. “You don’t talk very much... I don’t mind.”

Bucky looked down at his feet and grinned. When he raised his head, you were staring at him. His smile faltered and he felt his face grow hot. A smile touched your lips when you saw a deep flush creep up from his neck to his cheeks.

“Breakfast?” he offered with a small shrug.

You nodded enthusiastically and walked with him to the kitchen. Everyone was already up, you noticed Wanda’s favourite mug in the sink and a note from Clint wishing everyone a good day. Such a dad.

“Yikes!” you scrunched up your nose as Bucky set a bowl of oatmeal on the table. “You’re gonna eat that?”

Bucky nodded and sat at the kitchen table. Dipping his spoon into the cooling oatmeal, he watched you move around the kitchen. He chuckled quietly when you started singing to yourself.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked after a moment.

“Okay, I guess. It hurts a bit.” You bit into a piece of toast and pushed the food into your cheek to leave room for talking. “I’ve never been injured before.”

“Newbie?”

You chuckled. “Nope, I’m just really good.”

“So what happened?”

“Twenty agents, one Y/n. There’s only so much a girl can take.”

Bucky didn’t talk much, but he enjoyed listening to you talk. He loved the way you expressed yourself: vulnerable, yet strong. Entranced by your voice and your stories, he watched you with a smile on his face.

Part 3

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warrenvalleygolf · 6 years

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Tiger Woods, Golf’s Dominant Force, Hoists a Trophy Once Again

Source: NY Times By Karen Crouse

Sept. 23, 2018

ATLANTA — Eighteen months ago, Tiger Woods needed help getting out of bed. Back injuries had derailed his golf career, and he was about to have his fourth operation, a last-resort effort to return to the links. His primary goal was to regain enough mobility to play with his two children, not against the best golfers in the world.

Yet on Sunday, Woods was fighting back tears on the final hole of the Tour Championship as he claimed his first victory in more than five years. The win completed one of the most remarkable comebacks in sports history and answered doubts about whether Woods could ever be himself again, the most dominant force golf has ever seen. He shared those doubts.

“I just can’t believe I pulled this off,” Woods, 42, said at the trophy presentation for his 80th PGA Tour win, two short of Sam Snead’s career record.

“Maybe I’ll keep chipping at that number,” Woods said later, “and maybe surpass it.”

He had flirted with victory several times this year, mounting thrilling late charges that enraptured galleries but ultimately fizzled. Finally, Woods triumphed in vintage form, owning the course at East Lake Golf Club from Day 1 with a performance that was equal parts magical and methodical.

Small slips on the back nine Sunday provided extra drama, but Woods would not be denied. He shot one over par for the day and 11 under for the win, beating the runner-up, Billy Horschel, by two strokes.

David L. Cook, a sports psychology consultant who has worked with hundreds of professional athletes, including PGA Tour golfers, called Woods “one of the most mentally tough golfers of all time.”

“He was raised by a Green Beret dad, and it was important to Tiger that he be known as mentally tough,” Cook said. “Many years went into that, and emotionally, he still had it all together today.”

Fans stampeded after Woods as he walked up the last fairway, pressing closer and closer, his security detail barely able to contain the frenzy. Woods had always drawn huge crowds, but this was extraordinary. At one point, a small smile crossed his face as he peeked at the human sea lapping at his heels.

“I didn’t want to get run over,” Woods said later with a laugh.

Most of the day, he followed his longtime routine, blocking out any fuss from the gallery, fixing a steely stare forward and marching toward the hole. That focus has always been part of his strength. But on Sunday, almost everything felt different, even as Woods regained a big piece of his past.

The fans at East Lake threw their voices behind him with a fervor that came across as much more affectionate than the “You da Man” support he received when he was clinically destroying fields.

Terry Bradley, who drove from Louisville, Ky., with his wife, Rachel, to follow Woods over the weekend, said he had heard fans shouting encouragement like “C’mon, kid,” as if Woods had shed years, and not just rust, since returning to competition.

“I thought about it, and it’s the comeback story,” Bradley said. “Because nobody thought he would make it back to this level. And the way he’s been humbled. He’s human.”

Woods had been troubled over the last decade not just by injuries, but also by embarrassing revelations about his sex life that led to divorce, caused sponsors to flee and smudged the clean-cut image he had cultivated even before he left Stanford to turn professional. He kept winning, though, racking up five victories in 2013 before his back failed him.

Roughly a month after his fourth operation, a spinal fusion, Woods was arrested on a charge of driving under the influence near his Florida home. The toxicology reports found five drugs in his system, including two powerful painkillers and sleep-inducing medication. Woods sought inpatient addiction treatment after that episode.

But when Woods talks about the turning point, he speaks of the fusion surgery, which gave him back an active life and his career. He returned to golf in December ranked No. 1,199 in the world, and rose to No. 21 by the start of the Tour Championship, which had a 30-man field that included 18 of the top 20 golfers.

Woods entered Sunday’s round with a three-stroke lead over his nearest challengers, Justin Rose, the world No. 1, and Rory McIlroy, a former No. 1, and with a 23-0 record when entering a final round leading by at least three strokes.

It is a measure of how dominant Woods was before the back operations that despite all the time he missed, he has now moved into a tie with Dustin Johnson for the most PGA Tour victories (19) among active players since the start of 2008.

The Tour Championship, the PGA Tour’s season finale, was Woods’s 18th official start in 2018, one more than he had made in the four previous years combined as he tried to relieve his debilitating pain.

“None of us will really know how deep and dark a rut he was in because he is such a private guy,” said Trevor Immelman, who in 2008 held off Woods to win the Masters.

On Sunday night, Woods alluded to how deep and dark it was. He remembered thinking: “Am I going to be able to sit, stand, walk, lay down without feeling the pain that I was in?”

And also: “This is how the rest of my life is going to be? This is going to be a tough rest of my life.”

After he finished on Sunday, Woods staged a hug-a-thon with other members of golf’s elite, including Rose, the winner of the FedEx Cup playoffs, and Justin Thomas. He also tightly embraced his caddie, Joe LaCava; his girlfriend, Erica Herman; and his agent, Mark Steinberg.

“The people who are close to me saw the struggles and what I was going through,” Woods said, “and some of the players that I’m pretty close to, they’ve really helped throughout this process and the last few years. Their support and some of those things that they said coming off that last green meant a lot to me.”

Woods also said “the fevered pitch” of the fan stampede behind him on the 18th fairway was something he had never experienced and would never forget.

“I guess it’s different now because the art of clapping is gone, right?” Woods said, smiling. “You can’t clap when you’ve got a cellphone in your hand, so people yell.”

At one point this year, Woods was asked in a news conference if a victory in 2018 would complete one of the greatest comebacks in all of sports.

It would not even be the greatest comeback in his sport, he answered, before delivering a history lesson on Ben Hogan’s return to the winner’s circle at the 1950 United States Open, 16 months after sustaining critical injuries when a Greyhound bus struck the car he was driving head-on.

Hogan won six of his nine majors after the crash. How many years, and major championship runs, does Woods realistically have left in him? That question may be driving the emotions exhibited by Woods’s fans this year.

“Eighteen months ago, we saw him being arrested,” Bradley, the fan from Kentucky, said. “Now he’s back and probably with three or four years left of being able to play at this level, and everyone wants to see him while we still can.”

Bill Pennington contributed reporting from New York.

Link to article: Click heree

The post Tiger Woods, Golf’s Dominant Force, Hoists a Trophy Once Again appeared first on Warren Valley.

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blogwonderwebsites · 6 years

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Nature Tiger Woods, Golf’s Dominant Force, Hoists a Trophy Once Again

Nature Tiger Woods, Golf’s Dominant Force, Hoists a Trophy Once Again Nature Tiger Woods, Golf’s Dominant Force, Hoists a Trophy Once Again http://www.nature-business.com/nature-tiger-woods-golfs-dominant-force-hoists-a-trophy-once-again/

Nature

Image

Tiger Woods on the first tee at East Lake Golf Club on Sunday for the last round of the Tour Championship, the PGA Tour’s season finale. Woods, 42, claimed his first tour victory since 2013.CreditCreditSam Greenwood/Getty Images

“I just can’t believe I pulled this off,” Woods, 42, said at the trophy presentation for his 80th PGA Tour win, two short of Sam Snead’s career record.

Image

Tiger Woods celebrated winning the Tour Championship on Sunday.CreditTim Bradbury/Getty Images

David L. Cook, a sports psychology consultant who has worked with hundreds of professional athletes, including PGA Tour golfers, called Woods “one of the most mentally tough golfers of all time.”

“I didn’t want to get run over,” Woods said later with a laugh.

The fans at East Lake threw their voices behind him with a fervor that came across as much more affectionate than the “You da Man” support he received when he was clinically destroying fields.

“I thought about it, and it’s the comeback story,” Bradley said. “Because nobody thought he would make it back to this level. And the way he’s been humbled. He’s human.”

Woods entered Sunday’s round with a three-stroke lead over his nearest challengers, Justin Rose, the world No. 1, and Rory McIlroy, a former No. 1, and a 23-0 record when entering a final round leading by at least three strokes.

“None of us will really know how deep and dark a rut he was in because he is such a private guy,” said Trevor Immelman, who in 2008 held off Woods to win the Masters.

On Sunday night, Woods alluded to how deep and dark it was. He remembered thinking: “Am I going to be able to sit, stand, walk, lay down without feeling the pain that I was in?”

And also: “This is how the rest of my life is going to be? This is going to be a tough rest of my life.”

Image

Tiger Woods with his caddie, Joe LaCava, celebrated after winning the Tour Championship.CreditSam Greenwood/Getty Images

Woods also said “the fevered pitch” of the fan stampede behind him on the 18th fairway was something he had never experienced and would never forget.

“I guess it’s different now because the art of clapping is gone, right?” Woods said, smiling. “You can’t clap when you’ve got a cellphone in your hand, so people yell.”

At one point this year, Woods was asked in a news conference if a victory in 2018 would complete one of the greatest comebacks in all of sports.

Bill Pennington contributed reporting from New York.

A version of this article appears in print on

, on Page

of the New York edition

with the headline:

After 5 Painful Years, Woods Returns to Pinnacle

. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/23/sports/golf/tiger-woods-wins-pga-tour.html |

Nature Tiger Woods, Golf’s Dominant Force, Hoists a Trophy Once Again, in 2018-09-24 03:48:27

#Nature of Business in the Current Market

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blogparadiseisland · 6 years