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callsigndragon · 1 year

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Tasting the Ashes | Ch. 5: Disasters come in threes ✍️

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: pregnancy stuff, Mav and Goose being awkward around each other... and someone gets a bit defensive towards the end.

Important: This story is a sequel of Seeing Red, and there’s a lot of things you’ll miss if you don’t read that series first. Check Seeing Red! Masterlist on pinned.

I don’t tag people, follow @meigalibrary for notifications!

Goose practically runs to his car, trying to make it in time before Iceman can have a chance of grabbing him by the mustache, but when he turns around his car to open the driver’s door, Ice is already leaning against it.

“Shit.”

“You really thought you could outsmart me? I’m the Admiral here.” Ice remarks, open hand extended in front of Goose. “Keys.”

“What? No.” Goose shakes his head.

“Nicholas Bradshaw. Keys.”

Nick groans but eventually gives in, pressing the keys on Ice’s hand. “Look, I know that what I said was out of place, and I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk to him.”

Ice sighs, stashing the keys in his pocket. “This isn’t about whether you want to talk with Maverick or not. This is about a woman who is pregnant with twins.”

Goose looks inside the bar, watching how Slider and Mav end up cleaning up the remnants of Hangman’s son’s party. Mav has a serious expression. Saying that he's worried wouldn't even cover it. "He really didn't know about Barbara having a daughter?"

Ice shakes his head, placing his hand on Goose's shoulder. "He found out at the same time as the rest. Do you think he would have left a little girl without a father?"

"He pulled my son's papers. I don't know what he's capable of anymore."

"Would you ever sit down and talk about that?"

"Who knows. But the only thing I will be talking about is those kids." Goose states, heading towards the bar.

Ice takes a deep breath and looks at the dark sky. “How I wish you were here, Carole.”

The admiral enters the bar and, watching how Nick sits at one of the tables, Slider quickly occupies the chair next to him. Maverick glances in Ice’s direction, or maybe he’s looking for the quickest way out, which happens to be the main door that Iceman has just closed behind him.

“You want to talk? Let’s talk.” Goose’s eyes never leave the table, becoming suddenly more interested in the indentations left on the wood after years and years of beers, glasses, and several other things being pressed against it.

Maverick sits in front of him, trying to remember the last time they were in the same room. It was most likely the Hard Deck party following the uranium mission. It will be three years in just a few days. “Goose, I swear that I didn’t know that this girl was my daughter or that she was looking for me. We knew that Rooster had a big fat crush on her, and all of us tried to encourage him to look out for her, but I never thought it would end up like this…”

Goose nods, still not looking at Maverick. “I’m sorry for saying that your daughter was the one that ‘opened her legs’. That was totally uncalled for. I don’t think anyone is at fault here. They’re kids; they took all the necessary precautions, and well, it wasn’t enough.”

“I still don’t know much about her, but her call sign is Ash. Apparently she was in this horrible accident and her pilot died, but she walked out of the aircraft without a scratch.”

“That’s the Mitchell thing I’ve heard since that stunt you pulled three years ago.” Goose chuckles, looking at him at last. “Now I get it.”

Mav frowns, not understanding his ex-RIO’s words. “What?”

“Rooster kept saying that there was something about her, like he knew her from before. Bradley saw you in her.” Goose rolls his eyes, scratching his eyebrow. “If he was a bit more clever, he would have put two and two together.”

“He’s smarter than you all think.” Mav defends Bradley, tired of everyone calling him stupid, even if the captain was the first to do so. “She’s five months pregnant.”

“There’s so much to do and so little time…”

The men fall silent, with thousands of thoughts racing through their minds. Twins are born earlier, and things can be a bit riskier for both the mother and the babies, so Ash shouldn’t be left alone. “...twins even with a condom? Man, they should study your little soldiers in a fertility lab or something.”

Iceman starts laughing so hard that he starts coughing. Slider’s comments are always the funniest. “Ron, please warn me before you drop one of your unfiltered thoughts.”

Ron laughs too, shaking his head. “Anyway, does she have a place to stay? Those kids could come at any time, she shouldn’t be alone.”

“That’s…” Mav leans against the back of his chair, fingers drumming against the table. “She learned who I was after her mother died.”

“Wait, Barbara is dead?” Goose can’t believe what he’s hearing. They all knew about Barbara, she had worked as a nurse at Fightertown for many years. She and Mav used to flirt a lot, but after what happened with Charlie, Mav wasn’t ready to commit to a serious relationship. But they had fun together, and she always said that there weren’t feelings involved. A few months after that, she left the base, and nobody ever heard about her again. Not even Kazansky, who had known her for years.

“Died the month before Ash came looking for me. Left a letter for her daughter on her will, along with her father's name." Mav explains, his jaw clenching at the fact that, apparently, Barbara didn’t want to see her daughter reunite with him while she was still alive. He wasn’t that bad of a person, right? He had done good things. He was a good guy.

“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire, is this like a movie plot or something?”

“I don’t know, man… I’m as lost as you are. I just adopted Jake and know he has a sister!”

“You adopted Jake? Jake Seresin?” Goose questions, as if the thought of Mav doing something like that was insane.

“It’s Mitchell, now. And I just went from having two grandsons to four in a few minutes.”

“What does Penny think about all this?” Slider asks, looking around. “I’m gonna assume that she’s mad because she’s not here.”

Maverick drops his head over the table. “She’s not mad, just deceived. I always told her that I didn’t have any kids from previous relationships, and now she thinks I lied to her.”

“Disasters come in threes, don’t they?”

Mav, Ice, and Goose glare at Kerner, not agreeing with a word the man has said. “Don’t look at me like that; it’s true! That girl pops up, and suddenly you have a biological daughter, Rooster is going to be a dad, and you two are going to be grandparents!”

“Why did Rooster run away?” Ice asks Goose, ignoring his RIO’s words.

“He’s scared of my reaction. Where’s Ash now?”

“She’s staying with Red and Jake. They have all she may need in their house, so… She went with them. I’ll go tomorrow to talk with her.”

Goose looks at Iceman. “Give Rooster office work for a while. He needs to be there for Ash and the kids.”

“Don’t worry, I will. I heard that she wanted to talk to him, and your son told her to wait.”

Goose covers his face in shame. “Apparently she never said that it was important, but she was scared, and that should have been enough for my son to go with her first and later come to the party. I swear this boy only has a brain cell.”

“Yeah, the one that used to get a boner and knock up Mav’s daughter.” Slider only has time to raise his head and see Goose’s fist collide with his face.

#top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #tasting the ashes

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roadtogracelandx45 · 2 years

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If I were to do a series of prompts requests would anyone be interested in requesting some?

#ash writes #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw fan fiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagines #austin butler! elvis presley imagines #austin butler! elvis presley fan fiction #austin butler!elvis presley x reader #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural imagines #triple frontier imagines #tripe frontier fan fiction #benny miller fan fiction #benny miller imagines

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criesinliess · 1 year

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━MARCH 2023; susan's recs

LOCKWOOD&CO

knock knock. who's there? @klineinie

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

a taste of normalcy @websterss

the stray from arif's @↑

everything @frogserotonin

marker mayhem @oblivious-idiot

no one else @vi-trying-to-survive

public displays @↑

the language of longing. looks and stolen glances @fleetingvow

at times like these @teaandransacking

out the window @givemea-dam-break

patch you up @↑

you left me @↑

anthony @↑

i know it hurts @warrenposts

love me, forever, always @klineinie

dancing with our hands tied @bloodcanbehot

i wish you would @↑

you talk too much @helloooofandoms

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

tiktok trouble @ultralightpoe

do you want me to lie, sir? @simpforrooster

the princess and the hangman @↑

howdy, darlin'; part2 @↑

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

daddy would say yes @roosterforme

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

six months @grimbanes

the king @magpiencrow

bejeweled @honeyfict

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

i want you to want me; part2 @sophierequests

the one you think about as you lie awake; part2 @↑

young royals @clairecrive

stars in the night @↑

currents @lantsovsupremacist

august @↑

sick & stubborn @fleurspun

healer’s duties @↑

the art of pretension @↑

speak up @prince-septimus

SPIDER-MAN

━━ANDREW!PETER PARKER

you're not peter parker; part2 @curseofaphrodite

coffee run @↑

caviar and cigarettes @↑

MARVEL

━━DRUIG

unrequired; part2 @givemea-dam-break

MARAUDERS ERA

━━JAMES POTTER

getaway car @curseofaphrodite

mortal enemies @↑

━━SIRIUS BLACK

collide @curseofaphrodite

━━REGULUS BLACK

drunk nights; part2 @curseofaphrodite

the door @↑

words unsaid @↑

the break-in; part2 @↑

wishes and a gift @↑

of monsters and men @↑

the best man @↑

tricks and charms @↑

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

━━PRINCE CASPIAN

my prince @heliads

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

assigned seat @quin-ns

fiending for something, might just be a meaning @idcntlikedarkness

a visceral feeling, that i can never leave behind @↑

throw another stone at a glass house @↑

went out searching for an angel, then you came to me my darling @↑

━━RAFE CAMERON

whipped @mrsstarkey1

said you’re smoking less, and then you ashed it on your chest @idcntlikedarkness

this too shall pass @probably-writing-x

another? @↑

country club @a-aexotic

rafe defending pogue!reader @↑

no for one night stand @↑

i'd choose you over anyone @↑

cuddle buddies; part2 @fantasylandloser

tear-stained cheeks @sunraies

BULLET TRAIN

━━TANGERINE

safe house @quin-ns-moved

ÉLITE

━━GUZMÁN NUNIER

out of love; part2; part3; part4 @probably-writing-x

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

the way to his heart; part2 @adore-laur

little by little @↑

#susan's recs #fics recs #anthony lockwood x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #druig x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #regulus black x reader #prince caspian x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #tangerine x reader #guzmán nunier x reader #carmy berzatto x reader

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

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What Goes Around (Comes Around)

Summary: Bradley didn’t do relationships, and neither did you. The arrangement you had worked perfectly for ten years, getting together whenever your paths crossed. But after the two of you were stationed permanently on the same squad, suddenly what you have isn’t quite enough for him anymore. It’s not until a close call in the air that he finally gathers the courage to admit it.

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

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: friends with benefits relationship, smut (porn with feelings, basically), language, close calls in the air.

_______

His hands, normally steady while he was in the cockpit, were shaking. His knuckles strained from how hard he was gripping the throttle to make sure he kept control of his aircraft. He could hear you joking with Phoenix over the comms and the laughter that normally made him smile had the fear he was feeling just moments before transitioning into a white hot anger.

“Maybe I should steal your callsign, Phoenix. I’m the one who is rising from the ashes now.”

He couldn’t fucking believe you.

“Karma,” he snapped, cutting off Phoenix’s response and yours and Bob’s laughter. “Get back to base.”

“What-”

“Now,” he barked. It was quiet over the comms as the three others in the air with him processed his tone. “Karma.”

“You got it, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

He clenched his jaw so tight that it started to ache. Your voice was tinted with sarcasm, but you followed his orders nonetheless.

“Lighten up, Rooster. We’re all fine.”

He knew that Phoenix was right. The three pilots, himself included, and the one WSO in the air under his command as Team Leader were fine. But that almost wasn’t the case, and he seemed to be the only one taking it seriously.

“Exercise is over. Let’s get back.” he said, unbuckling the mask on his helmet and letting it fall. He didn’t have anything left to say that would be appropriate with everyone listening.

You were still standing near your plane when he descended from his, your arms crossed over your chest and a blank expression on your face. He had never known someone as capable of hiding every single one of their emotions until he met you. But it had been ten years, and he knew you intimately enough to catch your tells now. You were tapping your finger just the slightest bit against your opposite arm as you waited for him; you were nervous.

Good.

He kept his gaze straight ahead as he walked in your direction. He didn’t stop as he passed you, barely even slowed down, but he spoke lowly enough that only you would be able to hear his words.

“I’ll see you at my place tonight.”

_______

You’re already there when he pulled the Bronco into his driveway. He had stayed on base to shower and change, but by the looks of you still in your flight suit sitting on the steps leading up to his small porch, you had come straight here. You hadn’t let yourself in despite having a key.

You raised your head in his direction when he slammed the driver’s side door closed. He thought the shower and drive home would calm some of his nerves, but seeing you just made the anger flood his veins all over again. He forced himself to take a deep breath before he moved toward the house.

“Hey,” you greeted.

He walked up the stairs beside you and crossed the porch to unlock the front door without a word. He heard the sigh you let out and the shuffle when you stood to follow him inside. You closed the door behind you as he made his way into the kitchen.

“What’s your problem?”

He still didn’t respond to you, focusing instead on grabbing the bottle of cheap whiskey he kept in the cabinet and downing a heavy shot of it. When he went to pour himself a second, you scoffed.

“Are you planning on giving me the silent treatment all night? Because if you are, I’ll just le-”

He slammed the bottle down and grabbed you, hauling your body against his as he brought his lips down to yours roughly. You gasped at the suddenness of it and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He felt the moment you started to relax against him and just as quickly as he initiated it, he pulled away.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Your chest heaved and your eyes were wide, already slightly glassed over. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you not to go above 7Gs. Not in that terrain.”

It took a moment but he watched as your eyes cleared and what he was talking about clicked in your head.

“This is about the training exercise?”

“No, Karma. This is about you going into fucking g-loc because you disobeyed direct orders and climbed to over 9Gs after I explicitly told you not to.”

You gave him an incredulous look and shook your head like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. It made the anger flash hotter. “Rooster, I - are you kidding me right now?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” he snapped back, his voice raising. You seemed startled at his tone but you didn’t back down - you never did.

“The point of the exercise was seeing what we would need to execute a mission in that environment. 7 wasn’t going to cut it.”

“And instead of waiting for the go ahead, you force yourself into more, even as I’m telling you to stop.”

“Is that what this is? Your ego is bruised because I didn’t listen to you when you were team leader?” You laughed humorlessly like you had him all figured out when really, you didn’t have a clue.

“You went into g-loc!” he repeated loudly.

“You got tone on me and snapped me out of it.”

“But what if I wouldn’t have? Huh? I would have had to watch you crash into a goddamn mountain. And then you laugh with Phoenix after you level out like I almost didn’t just watch you burn in? I’m not watching you fucking die!” he yelled.

You looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. Bradley felt like he was going to choke as all the emotions from earlier washed back over him. His voice was gentler this time when he spoke. “I can’t, baby. I can’t.”

The sound of his heavy breathing was the only sound filling the space around you. After a long moment, you take in a shaky breath, releasing it slowly. You licked your lips as you no doubt contemplated your response to him.

“Rooster…Bradley, I don’t understand,” you finally said.

“What part of me not being able to lose you do you not understand?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. “You’re everything to me, Karma. You have to know that by now.”

Your eyes widened even further, your lips parting in surprise. You stuttered over your words. “I..We..we aren’t even together, Bradley.”

And wasn’t that the unfortunate truth.

You weren’t together.

Bradley had met you ten years ago when you were both stationed in Key West. The attraction was almost immediate and it only took a few months before you were sneaking into each other's base housing on a regular basis to work out all of your pent up energy and find comfort in another human body. Bradley didn’t do relationships and neither did you; it was a perfect arrangement. You could keep what happened within the four walls of your respective rooms on the ground and not have it go up in the air with you because there were no emotions that risked flying away.

When you got called for a change of station a year and a half into it, it wasn’t a hard goodbye. Bradley could find another woman to warm his bed, even if she didn’t come with your wit and the natural ability you had to make him laugh.

A year later, you both were deployed on the same carrier. Neither of you slept alone the 12 weeks you were on board. Then came the 6 weeks a year after that, and then the two months in Korea the year after that.

And then you were part of the same Top Gun class. Bradley thought that’s when things started to shift. He started thinking about you between your random run ins, wondering where you were or what you were doing. You started texting and keeping up with each other outside of when you fell into bed together, though that certainly never stopped when you found yourselves in the same vicinity.

When the Uranium mission happened, Bradley wasn’t surprised to see you there. If he was considered the best of the best, there was no doubt in his mind that you were, too. You were the first person he sought out after he and Mav crash landed back onto the carrier. You slipped away from the crowds on deck to an abandoned, stuffy storage closet. You didn’t fuck, but you held onto one another tightly for several long moments. In some ways, it was the most intimate the two of you had ever been.

It went unspoken that the arrangement you had would continue when the both of you got permanently stationed in Fightertown. But it was more than just a release of tension and a warm body in bed, now. It was bringing each other coffee in the morning and dinners and movie nights and spending time together with no intentions. Neither of you ever brought up exactly what that meant.

When you pulled that stupid maneuver this afternoon and stopped responding to him over the comms at the same time your plane started dipping, his heart stopped. Every word he never said flashed in his mind in bright neon letters.

He had thought you knew how he felt. But apparently, you hadn’t.

That had to change.

“You think there’s anyone else?” he asked.

“What?”

He stepped closer, crowding you against the fridge. A paper he had stuck there with a magnet fluttered to the ground when your back hit against it. His arms caged you in. You tilted your head back when he got so close that it was the only way you’d be able to meet his eyes.

“You think there’s anyone else I want to see at night, even after seeing them all day at work? Anyone else that I want to spend my weekends with, or who I can stay up talking to for hours without ever getting bored? Anyone else who makes me feel the way that you do, both in and out of my bed?”

Your lips parted and you let out a small gasp. You brought your hands up to rest gently on his hips because he was standing so close to you that you wouldn’t be able to lay them on his chest without pushing him away. He leant down, placing a soft kiss that almost didn’t fit the moment on your cheek before he whispered in your ear.

“You think there’s anyone else I want moaning my name while I touch them?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, the motion brushing your chest against his. Bradley shuffled back half a step to allow just enough room for him to grab one of your hands, slowly bringing it down between your bodies and pressing it against where he’s hardening under the zipper of his jeans.

“You think there’s anyone else that can do this to me, baby?”

You let out a soft sound that had more blood rushing south and your eyes fluttered closed as you let your head fall forward and rest against his chest. You curl your fingers around him as much as you can through the thick denim, squeezing gently. He let out a grunt at the feeling, leaning further into you.

“Do you?”

“No,” you whispered into his black t-shirt. A thought hit him, then, that had his heart racing and his jaw clenching for an entirely different reason. You spent the majority of your free time together, but not every single moment. There was no one else for him - but that didn’t mean there was no one else for you. He gripped your jaw between his fingers and tilted your head back again so he could meet your eyes. They were dark and slightly glazed over in the same way they always got when you were turned on.

“Is there anyone else for you?” he asked. Your eyebrows furrowed together like you couldn’t quite understand what he was asking. He pushed you harder into the fridge, slotting his thigh between your own. He knew if your flight suit wasn’t in the way, he’d find you wet. He wanted it to just be for him.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“No,” you finally whimpered, shaking your head as much as you could with his hold on your jaw. “There’s no one else.”

You were both breathing heavily as you stared at one another, almost as if you were both weighing who would move first. Finally, when you flexed your fingers over where you were still cupping him, he growled and took a step back. He didn’t give you time to worry why he was pulling away.

“Take it off,” he commanded, nodding toward your flight suit. He yanked his shirt over his head and then worked at his belt as you fumbled with your uniform. You were still struggling with it when he kicked his pants and briefs off. He moved back to you to help, pulling the thick material down and off as you removed your shirt and sports bra. When you were completely naked in front of him, he couldn’t resist bringing his hand between your legs. You soaked his fingers as soon as he touched you.

You choked out a moan as you grabbed onto his biceps. If he wasn’t so focused on completely possessing you, he would have smirked at the way your knees shook.

“Who are you wet for right now, baby?”

“You, Bradley. You.”

He wrapped his free hand around the back of your neck, the other still sliding through your wetness, and pulled you into another rough kiss. You whimpered as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dueling with his own. It was a messy exchange of spit and moans and he swore he could feel you getting even wetter. He flicked your clit with his finger before pulling his hand back, only to bring it forward with a quick, sharp smack to your pussy.

This time, when your knees threatened to give out and your fingers pressed harder into his arms, he let himself smirk into your kiss. Your eyes were completely glazed over when he came up for air. He pulled you away from the fridge, twisting both of your bodies and walking you backwards a few steps to the other side of the small kitchen. He spun you around, pushing your front down with a hand on the center of your back. You hissed when your nipples brushed against the cool granite countertops beside the sink.

“Here?” you asked, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Right here.”

He slid his cock along your pussy to slicken himself with your wetness before he lined himself up and pushed into you, bottoming out in a single thrust. Your loud, drawn out moan sounded like music to him. You were as tight and as warm as you always were and he never wanted to not feel this. The thought that he almost lost you today, that you were so careless with your own life, had that angry, possessive feeling taking over him again. He slid the hand that was holding your upper body down to thread itself into your hair, pulling at it until your back was flush against his chest.

“Tell me who’s making you feel this good,” he demanded, followed by another rough thrust of his hips.

You moaned his name in response, the syllables coming out breathy and broken in the pleasure he was giving you. But it wasn’t enough. He pulled your hair back again, baring your throat.

“Louder.”

“You are!” you screamed, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you grasped at the counter top for purchase. “Oh god, Bradley. You are.”

“That’s right, baby. I am. No one else.”

He released your hair and grabbed onto your hips as he ground his against yours. He wanted to bury himself in you to the point where you’d never not feel him, if only that were possible. He wanted to leave as much of a mark on you as you have on him, and he knew at this point that you would let him.

“You’re mine,” he rasped in your ear. Your pussy clenched tight around him at his words.

“Yours,” you gasped.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the pulse point on your neck.

You moaned, nodding frantically. You turned as much as you could to look at him and he met your lips in another sloppy kiss. He hissed when you nipped at his bottom lip.

Bradley could feel his orgasm building quickly, but he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He pulled out of you with a grunt. Your body was pliant in his hands as he turned you to him. There was a dazed, fucked out look on your face. Glancing down, he could see your wetness glistening on your thighs. What a sight you made.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“Wanna ride you,” you gasped out, reaching for him. “Please. Wanna see your face.”

With a muttered curse, he turned your bodies again, switching positions so that it was him against the counters. He slid to the floor without a word, tugging on your hips. You lowered yourself slowly, sinking back down on his cock with another drawn out moan, until you settled fully in his lap. He was even deeper from this angle. You wrapped yourself completely around him and he bent his knees slightly to keep you pressed to his body.

You brushed your nose against his, and your breath tickled his mustache. He helped raise you up and you moaned together when you dropped back down.

“You’re everything,” he whispered against your lips. Your pussy spasmed around him and he could feel some of your wetness smearing against his lap.

“You’re mine too,” you whimpered. He groaned at the words, thrusting up into you.

“Yes.”

You could do nothing but babble his name over and over again as you bounced on his cock, meeting each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips. You were one of the strongest women that he knew, better than everyone in a way few could be, so it made him dizzy, knowing that you got like this because of him.

Bradley could feel you tightening around him, the lift of your hips growing shallower and less defined as you neared your peak. He kept a firm hold of your hips as his own thrusts up into you turned sloppy. He knew both of you were nearing that final edge and he was determined to get you there.

“Come for me, baby,” he panted. You gasped when he touched that spot inside of you that always made you feel stars and he focused on hitting it with every movement. “I want to feel you come for me, knowing that no man will ever make you feel like I can, and no woman can ever compare. Come for me.”

He captured your lips with his at the same time you crashed over the edge. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice and it only took two more thrusts for him to follow right after you.

Your body trembled with sensitivity and he could feel his cum pushing out of you, but he didn’t dare move from this spot on the floor. Your bodies were both damp with sweat but he couldn’t bring himself to care, wrapping his arms more securely around you. In the afterglow, you rested your forehead against his and scratched lightly at his skull with your short nails. You simply existed together for several long moments, but Bradley knew you wouldn’t stay quiet forever - it wasn’t in your nature. He couldn’t help the amused smile that pulled at his lips when you proved him right almost as soon as your breathing evened out.

“Are we going to talk about it?” you asked quietly.

He hummed softly in response, nudging your nose with his. “Do you want me to get you cleaned up first?”

“Mmm, no,” you said, tightening your grip on him, too. His softened cock twitched inside of you. “Want to feel full for a little while more.”

He let out a low groan. Minx.

When he opened his eyes, you were smirking softly. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. He gave you a gentle kiss before letting out a deep sigh.

“I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, Karma.”

“I know,” you murmured, fingers still running through his hair.

“I’ve learned how to deal with it but…you’re different. I can’t take it if it’s you. When you went into g-loc today…it felt like my world was ending.”

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at him. He could almost see the cogs turning in your head as you contemplated his words.

“When did things change?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You suck in a small breath when he tells you the first time you were at Top Gun together. “That was years ago.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “You kind of snuck up on me, you know? And here I thought karma always hit you all at once.”

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. His smile was touched with reverence as he drew shapes into your soft skin, waiting you out.

“You’re my best friend, Bradley. You know that?”

“I know,” he nodded. And he did know that. The friendship he had developed with you over the years, especially in the last few, meant more to him than any other he’s had. It was the foundation of these deep feelings he had for you. He valued you more than anyone. If relationships and feelings were hard for him, though, they were nearly impossible for you. He knew what it meant that you trusted him like you did and held him in such high regard. It wasn’t inconsequential by any means.

“Hey,” he murmured, noticing how your eyes had strayed away from his. He wanted you to be looking at him when he said what was on the tip of his tongue, so he waited until you looked back up. That carefully blank look was on your face again, but your index finger tapped gently against his skull; you were nervous again, and he wasn’t surprised that you knew him well enough to perhaps guess what was coming. “I love you. You know that?”

You breathed in deeply and he did his best not to hold his. Slowly, the mask you had on your face slipped. You leaned forward, breathing him in, before placing your lips on his. It was the first kiss you had initiated the whole night and he returned it eagerly. When you pulled away, you let a smile climb on your lips and your eyes twinkled. His rapidly pounding heart slowed just the smallest amount.

“I know,” you said.

He supposed that, for now, that would be enough.

--------

Masterlist

Notes: This one was fun! Big thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for their help, as per usual.

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways -@alilstressyandlotdepressy - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

@shelbycillian - @mavrellover91 - @vici111 - @merishfit - @plaper1 - @lunamooncole - @pariahsparadise - @bunny-nonnie - @blackwidownat2814 - @huang-the-geek - @jpgliv - @bluelicious - @loveyhoneydovey - @pisupsala - @nuvoleincielo - @olivezeppelin - @jynxmirage - @shanimallina87 - @ouralcohol - @lumpypoll - @discowitchyy - @bellaireland1981- @princessmiaelicia - @eighthwvnder - @floydflys - @smile-child-13 - @rashelruby10 @csoutsider - @cowboybarbie - @haydensith - @itsizzythebell - @phantomxoxo - @myhealthymarvelobsession - @winterrebel04 - @keepingitlokiii - @anarchyrising - @shawnsblue - @greatszu -@misshoneypaper

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Text

misconceptions

pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader x bradley 'rooster' bradshaw (no use of y/n)

synopsis-

“You know, on account of your whole aggressively heterosexual, toxically masculine, 'I'm God’s gift to women' thing.”

Only Hangman is shameless enough to be offended at something so obvious. “I’m not aggressively heterosexual.”

warnings- 18+ minors DNI, (& glen don't read this shit please i'm embarrassed), allusions to previous threesome (m/f/f), voyeurism, implied threesome (f/m/m), public teasing, you prob shouldn't fuck in cars while they're moving bc seat belts/safety but this is self indulgent so let me live, fingering, edging, crying, praise kink, oral (f receiving), soft dom bradley, not so soft (but not really mean) jake, light dumbification/ degradation/ something along those lines, brat tamer boys, established rooster x reader relationship

length- 3.7k idk why my pwp is like this god help me when i finish something that's more than banter & smut again it'll be a billion words

an- I WAS working on something that didn't have smut but then miles posted that fucking picture- blame him. so here we go again...I don't...know what this is and i actually kind of hate it but i need it out of my brain. I'm sure rooster x hangman x reader has been done to death but I made an allusion to it in up to no good and well. yeah. so technically this is a sequel to that but you don't need to read that first because any illusion of plot in this is just a means for smut. *hides and blushes like a slut*

I want to say the entire premise of this is crack but my guy friends have convos like this at the bar all the time so who knows. I mean it's still ridiculous but...idk also the working title of this was bob fucks even though he's not even it and I thought that was amusing

“Knockout, five o’clock,” Payback mutters, looking behind you and Jake. “Looks like she’s got her sights set on you, Seresin.”

Jake manages a quick look over his shoulder, smirking when he turns back around because she is, in fact, gorgeous and beelining straight for his side of the table.

He rolls his shoulders back and winks at the group. You make a fake gagging noise purely out of reflex and nothing else, you swear, contemplating going up to the bar for another drink just so you don’t have to bear witness to this. You’re about to get up when you catch a very feminine hand out of the corner of your eye, going to tap you lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey,” the girl says, sidling up to you and immediately turning her back to Jake. “Where’s Bradley?”

Oh.

“Still on base,” you reply, quickly smiling in recognition. “It’s good to see you, Ash, you look good.”

“I’ll say,” Ashley answers, eyeing you up and down. She raises an eyebrow when her gaze gets to the hem of your sundress that’s resting a little high on your thigh. “I’m in town for a few days, come find me later if he makes it up here tonight.”

You duck your head, fighting the blush rising up your neck. “Maybe, I’ll let you know.”

“Please do.” Ashley winks, running her hand down your arm to the inside of your wrist, just this side of too familiar. She gives you a quick squeeze with delicate fingers and you hope no one notices the goosebumps raising on your arms before she turns on her heel to disappear back into the crowd.

You stare decidedly at your beer after Ashley saunters away, feeling everyone’s eyes on you and wanting to avoid this conversation as long as possible.

When you finally look up Phoenix is clearly fighting back a giggle, but her eyes are directed to the right of you, at Hangman.

“What the fuck was that?” He finally croaks after a few beats of awkward silence, mouth dry.

Phoenix reaches over to smack him upside the head. “You can’t really be this stupid.”

Jake is pretty sure he isn’t but he’s also kind of thinks he might be having a stroke.

“Always thought you guys were so boring,” he says dumbly, mouth agape.

Phoenix sighs, like she can’t comprehend how she ended up surrounded by so little intelligence, leaning over again to close Jake’s jaw. “Don’t mind him, up until two minutes ago he thought you and Rooster only banged in missionary.”

You blink.

You can’t believe that just came out of her mouth so casually.

You’re going to kill Rooster for not being here to endure this with you.

“Why…have you been speculating about how Rooster and I fuck?” You ask finally, slowly, pretty sure you don’t want to know the answer. Lack of self-preservation makes you ask anyways.

“Well, there had to be some sort of explanation for why it’s so easy for you to rile him up,” Jake declares, voice going a little high.

Huh.

Terrible logic but you suppose that could’ve been worse.

Still. This is a discussion you have negative interest in having. In public. With all your friends right here. With Hangman, of all people.

“Can we talk about something else? Like, literally anything else?” You don't want to beg, but this entire conversation is making your leg twitch.

“Nope,” Payback answers immediately. “We need more information.”

“We have questions,” Fanboy concurs.

You want to crawl under the table.

“I have questions too,” you shoot back instead, figuring you'll try going on the offensive. “Why do you guys want to know about our sex life? Because I’ve heard way too much from your girlfriends and I now have to live with that horrifying knowledge for the rest of my life. Why would you want those details voluntarily?”

Phoenix hums in agreement and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to hug her.

“Is that right, sweets?” Jake grins, clearly having recovered somewhat.

“Not you, Jake," you shoot back. "Thank God you haven’t dated anyone long enough for me to become friends with her.”

You studiously do not mention that he’s probably the only one you might welcome salacious details about.

“Because the rest of us aren’t having threesomes,” Payback adds, ignoring the blonde. “We’re jealous.”

You cough, averting eye contact. “Well, some of you are.”

They’re all staring at you again and you shrug. “Look, Bob fucks, not my fault the rest of you don’t.”

Jake has hit Ctrl-Alt-Delete on his temporary recovery, chunked the laptop that operates his brain out the window, and is now definitely having a stroke.

“You…and Bob?”

You scrub your hand across your face, not sure how much more of this high-pitched Hangman you can handle tonight. It’s making you edgy. “Not with me. Keep it together, pretty boy.”

Normally, you’d rejoice in the slight pink tinge gracing Jake’s cheekbones when you call him pretty boy, in one upping Hangman for a second, even if you’re the only one that notices. Tonight, it only scatters anxiety through your bloodstream.

At this point you decide to just get up and leave the table. It’s probably for the best.

“Are you gonna make it?” Phoenix asks Jake after you’ve made your way to the bar.

“No,” he answers petulantly.

•••

Hangman looks decidedly more like his usual self lounging across from you and Rooster in the booth you've taken to hiding in and you're silently thanking the whiskey he's switched to for it.

He's a pain in the ass, sure, but when he's not bantering with you, you're not even sure what to do with him. Shrill is not a word you thought you'd ever have to use to describe him, you're practically trembling at the memory of it.

All that means you're smiling, a little wicked, while you lean into the warmth of Rooster’s body. “Don’t worry, Hang, no one expects you to have a threesome unless it’s with two other girls.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head and you bite back a snicker. Direct hit. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

When you’re pretty sure you’re not going to laugh directly in his face, you wave your hand dismissively, hoping the wild hand gesture captures Jake’s whole air. “You know, on account of your whole aggressively heterosexual, toxically masculine, ‘I’m God’s gift to women’ thing.”

Only Hangman is shameless enough to be offended at something so obvious. “I’m not aggressively heterosexual.”

“Twenty bucks your tongue is down some poor girls throat by the end of the night.”

“That’s called having game,” he retorts. “I’ll have you know I’m a very enlightened man. Good to know you pay so much attention to my conquests though, sweets.”

He winks and you immediately wonder why you were grateful for his mood shift.

“Conquests, seriously?” You fight back a gag. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Jake.”

You hope the use of his real name emphasizes your disappointment in him.

Rooster’s gaze is flitting back and forth between you two like he’s watching a tennis match, expression calculating. “I don’t know that I feel like calling Ashley tonight.”

Both of your mouths snap shut when you register what he just said.

Where did that come from?

“Well, that figures, little bird. I’m surprised you knew what to do with both of them the first time around.” Hangman grins around his glass before taking another sip of whiskey.

Rooster rolls his eyes, but otherwise waves off the dig. “I just think there’s something else princess might enjoy a little more.”

You immediately feel heat rising to your cheeks. That explains his abrupt timing.

“Rooster,” you manage to grit out, warning in your tone as you tighten your fingers on his thigh.

He ignores you, because he knows you. Knows what you secretly want, what you’re too embarrassed to say out loud, too proud to admit. If you weren't so busy being uncomfortable you'd have warmth spreading through your chest at the knowledge that he just wants to take care of you, give you what you need.

Rooster runs his hand up your bare thigh, playing with the hem of your dress, and it sends a jolt of electricity through you before immediately blowing a fuse in your willpower.

“Come on, baby," he murmurs. "Don’t you want to tell him what we talked about the other day? After the beach?”

Crimson is painting itself across your cheekbones, you’re sure of it.

Recognition crosses Hangman’s face and he clears his throat, which is suddenly dry.

“Talk about me a lot while you’re fucking your girl, Bradshaw?” He taunts, but there’s something thick in his voice, something rapidly glazing over his bright eyes.

“Rooster,” you say again, but this time it comes out a little whinier, a little more abashed.

“Baby, it’s okay,” Rooster soothes you, gentle and doting, because he always knows how to make you melt like butter. “I see how he looks at you.”

Hangman fiddles with the rim of his rocks glass, but he doesn’t deny it.

If you were more present in this moment, if you weren’t so distracted by the need suddenly, insistently thrumming through your body, by Rooster’s hand burning on your thigh; you might be amused at this role reversal, Rooster calm, collected and bordering on cocky, while Hangman shifts across from you, curiosity making him jumpy in his seat.

Rooster’s mustache tickles your cheek as he runs his mouth across you, mouth moving to latch onto the sensitive spot below your ear. Your lips part of their own accord as you feel him move his hand under the skirt of your dress, brushing his knuckles against where you’re already soaking through your panties.

Meeting the green eyes across from you feels hot like burning and you tuck your face into Rooster’s neck to hide from it, biting your lip to keep from letting out the truly obscene noise that’s bubbling in your chest. “Can we please go home, babe?”

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin so you’re forced to meet his gaze, tilting his head in the direction of the man across from you. “That depends. Are you gonna be a good girl for him, baby?”

Well, Rooster certainly isn't waiting patiently on his perch tonight then, is he?

Your breath hitches, everything in your body going still for a moment when you hear him, before words come tumbling out of your mouth.

“Yes, yes, yes, I promise, Bradley, please,” you whine softly, fingers gripping the edge of his open shirt, looking for something, anything to keep you grounded.

“Jesus,” you hear faintly from the other side of the table. When you look up you catch Jake’s eyes, pupils blown so wide they’re practically black.

Your boyfriend’s lips twitch upwards, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s turned towards the blonde, while his fingers continue running up and down your clothed slit. “Gorgeous like this, isn’t she?”

“Christ, Bradshaw. Understatement of the year. What a nice surprise this is.”

“Only gets better the more you tease her,” he promises.

“I’m right here,” you protest, narrowing your eyes at the two men. You’re aiming for annoyed but you’re pretty sure the words come out petulant instead. If you were standing you might even stomp your foot.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you feeling a little ignored?” Bradley coos with a quick peck to your cheek, hint of condescension in his tone.

Jake shoots you a wicked grin, mischief lighting up his face. “Should’ve known you’d be a fuckin’ brat.”

“Bratty girls don’t deserve to get what they want, do they?” Bradley asks Jake, but his eyes are on you.

You pout, looking up at him and trying to look as cute as possible, hoping an innocent expression might get you out of this little predicament.

It usually works on Bradley, but Jake just snickers from his side of the booth.

“No, they don’t. Not sure they deserve to wear panties either.”

“The man makes a good point,” Bradley agrees, tearing his attention from your imploring eyes.

Distantly, you’re glad he’s angled his body to block you from the rest of the bar, because Bradley is working baby blue lace down your hips, lifting you slightly in the process, before settling you back down with your feet in Jake’s lap under the table.

Jake sends a cheeky wink your direction as his hand runs up the inside of your leg, squeezing your calf, then thigh in a way that could really only be described as affectionate, which sends shivers down your body right to your core. He pulls your panties the rest of the way down, letting you catch a glimpse of his fingers running over them before he puts them in his pocket.

“Drenched those, didn’t you darlin’?” He drawls, as he stares you dead in the eyes and licks your slick from his fingers.

Your mouth drops open of its own accord and before you even have a chance to recover you feel fingers pressing against your bundle of nerves. Thankfully, Bradley kisses you a moment later, swallowing the moan that leaves your lips. “Shh, we don’t want everyone to hear, do we?”

“Fuck, she’d probably like that, wouldn't she?”

You blink slowly, eyes struggling to focus as they move between the two men.

Bradley smirks. “Poor baby, lost your words already?”

Your brain has been wiped clean so you can only mewl quietly in response.

“Think she might be obedient enough to go, now,” Jake offers.

You’re pretty sure you look drunk as you stumble outside, Bradley supporting you with an arm around your waist, nearly carrying you out.

When you reach the car, he turns to deposit you into the other man's arms. “Just don’t let her come till we get home, yeah?”

Jake grins. “Sure thing, Bradshaw.”

The moment you’re in the back of the Bronco Jake is all over you, pulling you in for a rough kiss.

He manhandles you onto his lap, pulling your back against his front as his hand slides up to your jaw, forcing your attention to Bradley in the driver’s seat.

You meet Bradley’s stare in the rearview mirror, and he grins, clearly enjoying how debauched you look in Jake’s lap, as much as he can while driving, anyways. Your mouth parts as Jake trails his down the side of your neck, across your shoulder, leaving red bite marks as he goes.

You’re thinking about how powerful Jake looks behind you, completely unbothered by your boyfriend’s eyes constantly darting from the road to the mirror to watch you both, when his hand slides underneath your dress, bunching it up and out of his way, leaving you bare against his pants.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, fingers flicking expertly at your entrance. “You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but blush, head ducking down as you focus on the wispy material of your dress falling haphazardly off your chest, breaking your gaze from the front of the car.

“Jake,” you whimper, grinding back onto his lap.

He clucks a noise of disapproval and your stomach rolls unpleasantly at the idea that you’ve disappointed him already. “Let him watch your pretty mouth moan my name, sugar.”

You snap your head back up at his words, rushing to comply, rushing to be good, only to meet cheeky, dark eyes in the mirror. Your mouth drops open as Jake eases a finger into you, gaze fixed on Bradley as heat washes over you.

Jake adds another finger, and then twists, while his thumb rubs insistent figure eights along your aching clit. If you had any sense, you might be bashful at how your legs are already shaking where they’re bracketed around his.

You vaguely remember Bradley’s instructions before getting in the car, but you can’t help the pleading falling from your lips anyways.

“Wanna come, Jake, please, please, need it,” you whine, squirming in his lap, on his fingers, against the bruising hold his other hand has on your hip. You can’t get comfortable, can’t stop moving, it’s not enough, you need more.

He chuckles, the sound mocking, bordering on mean, and you can’t help but shudder at the way it shoots heat right through you.

“I could let you come all over my fingers,” he muses languidly, pressing slow circles on your clit, like you have all the time in the world in the back of Bradley’s bronco. The yes, please, is on the tip of your tongue when he continues, words hot in your ear. “Or I could edge you with my mouth until you cry.”

You and Bradley suck in simultaneous sharp breaths at Jake’s words and you can practically feel the amusement radiating from him.

“Sweetheart, you gonna tell me what you want?”

You’re biting your lip to keep the obscene noises threatening to tear from you muffled, teeth so tight on your swollen lip you’re surprised you haven’t drawn blood.

His fingers still after a few torturous seconds of you attempting to remember how to make decisions. You could do that, at one point in your life, you think.

“Asked you a question.”

Frustrated, your eyebrows knit together as you try to form words. “Jake.”

He grazes his teeth across your neck, and you can feel that infamous smirk against your skin. “As pretty as you sound saying it, my name is not the answer.”

“I…fuck, Jake, I don’t—” you mewl brokenly, hands going to his arms, pushing, gripping, hoping you can get him to move again, give you what you need.

“Seem to remember you promising you’d be good for me.” Jake continues, as if you haven’t spoken at all and there’s a steely edge in his tone that sends another wave of heat straight to your core.

“Sorry, sorry, Jake please, sorry, can be, I swear,” you babble. Your voice sounds foreign to you, high and whiny like it might crack and break if you don’t get his approval.

“Be a good girl and tell me what you want, then.”

You’re flushing with embarrassment at this, you know what you want, but it doesn’t make your cheeks flame any less to have to admit it. “Your mouth, please, Jake need your mouth on me…”

“Good choice, darlin’,” he murmurs, lifting you up and laying you down on your back as he bends to put your legs over his shoulders, kneeling impossibly in the backseat. “Knew a slutty little thing like you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were wrecked.”

He must be really flexible, you think helplessly, before his tongue licks a stripe up your slit and drives every other remaining thought from your body.

He works those thick fingers into you again, curling them at the same time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

Your back arches involuntarily, stars suddenly dancing across your vision. Worked up as you are he brings you to the edge quickly, and you stupidly think he might actually let you go over.

Just as your whines are hitting their crescendo, just when you’re so close you can practically taste it—he pulls back, mouth suddenly moving down your hip, away from where you want him, fingers retreating to leave you clenching around nothing. The noise you make in response is obscenely close to a wail, bringing tears to your eyes.

You blink them back hard, determined not to let Jake win so quickly.

He nips the inside of your thigh, making you spasm in surprise. As soon as you’ve come down from the sheer disappointment and not a second later, he’s back on you, lips and fingers working determinedly to wind you up again.

Jake continues his little routine, one, two, three more times until you’re sobbing, unable to hold the tears back as they leak from the corners of your eyes. Your hands are tight in his hair, trying to keep his mouth on you, terrified of him stopping and leaving you frustrated and aching again.

Hazily, you’re aware that the car isn’t moving anymore, that if you turn your head a little to the left you can see Bradley biting his lips and white knuckling the steering wheel, eyes fixed on you in the mirror still. That there’s nonsense pouring from your mouth in between the cries, as you writhe against Jake’s face, I need, Jake please, please, I can’t, Jakejakejake, I—

��You can let go for him, baby.” You hear Bradley’s deep voice cutting through the fog in your mind.

His words tingle across your skin, at the tip of every nerve ending, as your muscles start contracting, giving in to what you’ve been begging for since you got in the car. It crashes into you, an avalanche rumbling through your body, back arching in a moment of pure perfection. And all that’s left is a glowing, fuzzy feeling, warmth spreading through your chest like you just finished a shot of whiskey.

“Jesus,” Jake whispers as you come down, mouth trailing softly up your stomach, your chest and across your jaw, to brush your lips. “Fuck, sweetheart, such a good girl for me.” His words are muffled as you taste the tang of yourself on his mouth and wrecked as you are you still preen at his praise.

The driver’s side door opens and shuts with a definitive thud, pulling you and Jake out of your stupor. He gives you one last peck before dragging your dress back down, although you suffer from no misconceptions that it’ll help you look any less debauched.

You let yourself be tugged out of the car and into Jake’s arms, limbs leaden and slow on your way to your front door as your brain catches up with your body. You list against him, eyes fluttering closed as Bradley digs around for his keys. Once he opens the door he turns to you, smirking at the dazed expression washed over your features, the lazy blinks as you try to focus your eyes.

“Aw, baby, you can’t be tired already,” Bradley coos, reaching up to hold your face and affectionately running his thumbs over your cheekbones, wiping away any errant tears. “We’re just getting started.”

2K notes · View notes

turnnblurb · 2 days

Text

Don’t Fear the Reaper, Part One

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Pilot!Reader, Ex situationship!jake seresin, platonic!phoenix, platonic!rooster, Callsign: Reaper

Summary: meet cute with bob turned love at first sight turned oblivious idiots

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, mentions of death, grief, drowning, childhood trauma, abuse, alcohol, alcoholism, scars

Note: this part is very platonic heavy because I love nat and rooster and reapers dynamic with them. Love you, mean it. Thank you for reading!!!

You wake up differently every day. Strewn into a different position each morning from your restless sleep. An ache here one day, and an ache there the next. But, without a doubt, each time you close your eyes to lullaby yourself to sleep with useless ideas of hope, you wake up there.

Head Beach. Brunswick. Maine. One of your father’s last deployments.

It’s easier to feel the damp air on your skin than it is to hear Nat’s call for you from your now-shared kitchen. Easier to feel the plummeting weight on your lungs and your baby brother’s cold hand in yours than it is to feel-

No, now you definitely feel someone shaking you awake. You hear the call of your name right in your ear now.

“Dude, I’ve been calling for you for five minutes,” She stands there in her morning glory, Natasha Trace, your best friend of hell- you don’t know how many years. You stopped counting after you two graduated from the Naval Academy. Time had lost its track after that, pulling you from base to base.

“Sorry, guess I underestimated how tired I was,” You had spent the last week pulling a 4x8 cargo trailer from your pickup down I-95. New Orleans to Fightertown. Well, that drive only took you nearly a full day. It was more so unpacking the last four years of your life into a shared rental with an undefined lease that had pressed on your exhaustion.

“Don’t stress, it’s only half past 9,” Nat laid on the right hand side of your now mused and unmade bed. For someone who was so adamant on waking you, she was now a hypocrite. She let her eyes wrench shut, a soft sigh escaping her mouth.

“Never in a million years would I think that we’d be back here.” You turned to face her as she spoke comfortably. You had never had many girl-friends growing up. You relished the femininity behind shared moments like these. Moments you couldn’t find in your memories of wrestling with your brothers, or sleeping in tents with other pilot’s sons at the age of 8. Because they were always sons.

Sometimes you would thoughtlessly wonder if Natasha Trace was your soulmate, or at least your guardian angel.

At the Naval Academy, her bunk below yours. Comforting you with kind words when your frustrated hands fussed with your gelled hair, taking the brush from your hands silently to do the work for you. Your mother left after the ‘accident’ and your father only ever knew how to work a high and tight.

A few months later, her coming out to you as she weeped into your hands, scared of the love she felt for others. Moments later when you weeped into her’s because you had never known romantic love of your own.

Years later at Top gun when you had a glimpse of that love and the hope that came with it. Pledging to you that you were worth more than some ripped out of the plastic Ken doll who chose to call himself ‘Hangman.’ He had miserably led you on after flirting with you relentlessly. “I guess we know what his callsign stands for now.”

Now, even more time had passed and by whatever thread fate had placed into your hands, you tied yourself to her once again. From ash to flame, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was your best friend.

“Hey, at least this is actually a home. Not some Navy funded apartment complex where we have to deal with Roos’ banging on the wall at 2 in the morning,” You two share a chuckle, the vibrato of it fading back into a comfortable silence.

If Natasha is your best friend, then Bradley Bradshaw was your third brother. He was the pilot’s son asleep next to you in the tent. After Uncle Goose died, Carole found comfort in your family. She held everyone a little closer, until your family was torn away from her and her son too. She never blamed your dad for moving out of Miramar, not even one bit. She held you in your hospital bed after it had happened. Saw the pain in the boy’s eyes as they looked at their angel helplessly. She helped wrap the dishes in the newspaper the next week.

You had not seen or heard from a Bradley Bradshaw until your first time being invited to Top gun. Your head shot up at the familiarity of it all. All you heard as a reflection of that name was your dad’s fake-angry voice ringing through your home as he chased after the boy and your older brother Elliott with a penis shaped mark on his sleep written face.

You recall chasing after him after briefing, tears in your eyes. There wasn’t much chasing to be done as he had the same turmoil of emotions bubbling in his own stomach at the call of your name. His hug was no longer weak, it was fully supported by years upon years of training, and a grief only felt by a childhood best friend. His grip could have left an imprint on your skull.

Even at the age where boys and girls began to separate, Bradley and you had always had one thing in common. The dream, if not the need, to be exactly what your father’s are and were. That’s why when he had asked if you knew what your Uncle Mav had done, you feigned confusion.

You were there of course, on Thanksgiving day, about a week after Pete had decided on his action. You watched as your father, who sat across from him, clenched and unclenched his fists at the confession slipping from his closest friend’s mouth. Felt the acid form in your throat at the fire forming on his tongue as he fought for a kid who was not his.

“If his father were here right now, he would see for himself just how cowardly of an act this is.” It should be known that a man deemed in the air as ‘Hermes’ would knock the wit out of another man’s dialogue. A knife would not dare clatter at the softly spoken, I promised her Maverick choked back.

That’s why you let Bradley tell you his side of the story. You let him cry on your shoulder as he voiced his fear of being so far behind in his career, all for another man’s fear that he would break a futile promise.

“How is he doing?” Nat’s pondering brought you back to her presence.

“We called the other day, said he was being deployed again, but couldn’t tell me much more than that. Secretive little bastard. Told him the same thing.” You cleared your throat and began picking at your thumb, a nasty habit. In times like this you wished you two had shared a less dangerous passion, maybe you both would have joined Elliott’s band and moved up to Chicago with him when he left.

It was pitiful having the same fear that wracked Mav, but after Carole’s death it seemed to be the only option. You didn’t want to choose sides. You didn’t want to disappoint her. You wanted Bradley to be safe in the air, on land, hell, wherever he was taken.

“He can handle his own,” She put a comforting hand in your hair as you mulled over every way that you could possibly lose Bradley Bradshaw. “As long as he’s not left alone in a kitchen with an evil grilled cheese.”

“Will we ever let him live that down?” The memory of a panicked apron wearing Rooster nearly knocking a hole into your apartment door pulled a hearty laugh from the two of you. After not only setting his, but his neighbor’s fire alarm off, he decided that it was much easier to mooch off the two of you for his meals.

“Negative.” Nat let out a final puff of laughter as she pulled herself from your bed, stretching her long limbs to reach a hand out to you. “Up and at ‘em Reaper.”

Your left knee didn’t ache. The shooting dull feeling that had you at a slight limp whenever you attempted to go anywhere in the muggy environment of New Orleans. The scarring encasing your knee cap was the only physical reminder that the accident had a much more emotional reminder. The feeling had been replaced by, well, nothing. Just a bead of sweat as your skin soaked in the dry California heat. At this moment you were thankful for that. And, Trader Joe’s.

You could have put the whole grocery store in the shopping cart if it wasn’t for Nat’s mom like reflexes.

“When will you ever eat…” She turned the object with questioning eyes, “Dill pickle hummus…?”

“It sounds good.” Your shrug fell on narrowed eyes.

“I knew we should’ve eaten before this. We are getting sandwiches before we leave.” Your lips and stomach smiled at that.

The day was filled with errands, and more errands. Checklists that were scratched onto the backs of very long receipts over last night's shared bottle of wine.

- Living room rug

- Bathroom rug

- Hallway rug

- How many rugs do we need Nat?

- Shut up.

- A good amount of groceries (and alcohol)

You left your roommate to her meal prepping in order to find the snacks that she would inevitably indulge in on the desert isle. Chocolate chip cookies. Cosmic brownies. Nat’s favorite oatmeal cookies were the last box standing. You were praying this got you out of dishes for at least a week.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” A smooth voice rang from beside you, causing your heels to lift off the ground only slightly, you hoped. Instead of cardboard, your hand closed around a much softer and human-like alternative. Might you mention an Adonis-like alternative at that.

He’s all soft smile and ocean gaze as he lifts his hands in feigned surrender, as if you could ever dream of laying your hands on him in any way shape or form. He’s standing at least 6 '2, wire lenses sitting on his nose, clad in a dark blue hoodie with words in yellow letters reading ‘US NAVY’, a small detail amongst small details that won’t mean anything until later in the evening.

“They’re all yours.” You forgot about the box still under your hand as he motions to the cookies. Right, cookies.

“Are you sure? Your hand was there first. They aren’t even for me, I promise I won’t miss them.” You pray your words don’t come out as one embarrassing stumble, but fear they do anyways. The slight smile never leaves his face.

“That’s even more reason to give them to you. I support good deeds.” He waves you off with a gentle hand in the air, you catch the watch on his wrist, wondering silently how much time has passed since you left Phoenix in that aisle.

“I’ll take them, for good deeds. But, the next box is yours.” You match his smile as gracefully as you can. Knowing you probably look like a kid in a candy store eyeing the newest supply. When was the last time you felt this? You don’t even know his name.

“And, if I ever see you in this Trader Joe’s again, I’ll hold you to that.” His laugh fell like music on your ears. Could you get him to do it again? Could you record it sneakily?

“Thank you, hopefully this gets me out of my roommate duties.” He laughs again, with a slight shake of his head. He lifts his hand in another wave, signaling his exit.

“Don’t thank me yet, you owe me.” He passes by you with a friendly wink.

You have to muster up enough strength to get your feet moving from where they are frozen to the ground. You silently tell yourself to shut up as you wonder if you just met the love of your life in a goddamn Trader Joe’s.

You refuse to tell Nat about your meet cute that wasn’t a meet cute and was just a totally normal conversation with a totally normal stranger. You wish you had the confidence around the male gender that you did as a child. The ability to pin them to the ground and make them beg for their life, well in a completely metaphorical way, of course.

If you were anyone else you would have offered your number, so maybe you could gift him the oatmeal cookies sooner rather than later. If you looked like the girl he was probably after you would have kissed him right there. If you were anyone else.

If Robert Floyd were anyone else he would’ve done the same thing.

Who the hell winks at women anymore? Naval Aviators. He felt like a douche. He muttered softly to himself through the Trader Joe’s, to his Tacoma, and in the driver’s seat.

“You owe me??” He finally says it loud enough to where it meets his own ears when he’s alone. His brows furrow at his own clumsiness. He’d never said those words in his life, no one had ever owed him anything. Well, maybe his sisters when they stole from his Toy Story piggy bank in Grade 4.

If I were anyone else, he thinks to himself the whole drive home.

You’re back at home. That word still feels unfamiliar to you, and it has since you moved away from your father. But, you think it’s something you could get used to.

It’s not far from the apartment complex you and Nat were originally housed in a few years ago. A 1960 something one story with white brick and green shutters. Ivy of all sorts climbing the windows, you’ll have to do housekeeping eventually. Inside is all stained wood and tacky tile, but with your best friend, it is definitely home.

It feels more like home with her fussing over your hair in the bathroom mirror. Giving unimpressed looks at you through the reflection everytime you wiggle too much.

“I don’t understand why we have to go to The Hard Deck the night before our first day, and I absolutely loathe that we have to do it in Khakis.” While she gels the wispy hairs on your head back, you busy yourself with your pins and badges. You can never do it right, and always end up poking your thumb.

“It’s tradition Reap, it’s bad luck to break tradition.” She pulls at the bun to make sure it’s taut, and brushes your ironed khaki shoulders, “Plus, we both know we’ve flown with hangovers more times than I’ve had to do your hair.”

You roll your eyes and let her win, she’s not wrong. It’s not difficult to recall drunken nights with her and Bradley, squeezed onto the smallest couch in the world, provided by the shittiest apartment complex known to man. Nights howling over awful Family Feud answers and worse beer.

You pick up a few more things around rooms, at least wanting to be prepared before meeting Nat at the door. Another tradition you have is rock, paper, scissors over who has to drive. Or, more realistically, who is allowed to drink the most. You win.

“Ugh, I’m driving your truck. Better gas mileage.” You shrug, stepping out before her and letting her lock the door with your keys.

Nostalgic is one way to feel about exiting your truck in The Hard Deck parking lot. Another would be less enthusiastic, appalled. You had never seen the place so overpopulated.

Sure, it had been what? 3-4 years since you had last stepped foot through the doors of your favorite bar, but is that enough time for this many people to spawn in Fightertown, USA. You can see a wave of khaki through the door, you spot it the same time Nat does.

“Don’t hold your breath, actually maybe do, it looks like there might be a stench.” You nudge her playfully as you walk up to the short building. It is a sight for sore eyes, you can admit. You no longer feel dreaded nerves at unfamiliarity, because The Hard Deck is as familiar as it gets.

Beer, sweat, and seemingly your own father’s playlist fill your senses overwhelmingly at once. You have to shoulder past a few people with verbal apologies to even lay eyes on Penny Benjamin at her bar. She quickly spots you with a beautiful smile and a nod, you return it, a nonverbal promise of a hug when you can actually reach her.

Phoenix spots someone else before you do.

“Seresins here.” A scowl falls on her face and yours falls flat. It takes you no time to spot him as well, his eyes already on you before yours are on him. He lends you a smirk and a wink. A wink so the opposite from the one you were gifted earlier in the day. A wink that sends a bite of venom right into your tongue. You look up at Phoenix.

“That’s fine.” She knows it’s not. Knows that if he steps a foot closer to you she’ll have him thrown into the pool table he stands in front of. You know it’s fine. Because she told you once that he was worth none of your tears, and you believed her. You dug the grave for those emotions long ago.

“He’s not the only asshole here,” You’d believe her, but her tone was noticeably lighter. Before you could question her words you spot two more familiar faces.

“Holy shit!” A voice belonging to none other than Rueben ‘Payback’ Fitch graced the air. You were engulfed in a hug before you could get out a response. His WSO squeezes you before you could get a breath from the last hug.

“I guess they really are calling anyone back to Top Gun these days.” You laugh in disbelief, still hanging tight to your old friends.

“Well, you’re here short stack, so I guess so.” Rueben chuckles before pulling you in for another hug.

“Well what do we have here!” It should be difficult to ignore that voice in such a crowded room, but it isn’t. Not when the voice belongs to the most arrogant pilot in Naval history. “Family reunion?”

“Fellas this here’s Bagman.” Phoenix crosses her arms at him, looking back to you for your own comfort. You don’t need it.

You don’t need it because in trying to ignore the situation in front of you, you found a different situation to your right. In a corner, with a cup of peanuts in his hands. Your mouth goes agape, and it would be a lie to say you aren’t shamelessly staring right at him when his eyes finally meet yours.

His facade matches yours immediately, he stifles a laugh in surprise and amusement. You smile right at him, shaking your head in another bout of disbelief. You’re rudely pulled out of the silently shared moment.

“Reaper.” Hangman deadpans your name with the same stupid smirk on his face. Your smile is gone. You give him no reply. Only a tap on Phoenix’s shoulder as a quiet exit sign before you head to the bar. You don’t miss the way eyes follow you behind wire frame glasses.

You let out a huff. Then you pause. Nearly being knocked over by a too-tall man in your state of shock. The night feels like one really weird mixed up dream where people from different places in different points of your life conjoin into one memory. Because at the bar sits no one other than Pete Mitchell.

“Uncle Mav?!” He twists on the barstool at the sound of a voice he’s heard since the owner of it learned to speak. He feels old as he sees the girl he raised in the bar he first blacked out in. He feels grief when he realizes what her being here means. A soft call of your first name, uncommon in a bar full of Naval Aviators.

“Kid, what the hell.” He pulls you in for a hug, tucking your head into his neck like he had always done.

“Does dad know you’re here? With me?” After the fight, they had forgiven each other immediately. There was no use in fighting, there was no use in losing each other.

“No, if I’m being honest, I’m not even completely sure what I’m here for.” He squinted his eyes as if you knew the answer, but you just shrugged, letting him know that the feeling was mutual. A clearing of a throat pulls you both to face the center of the bar, where Penny stands with Mav’s beer in hand.

“I was promised a hug.” She gives you a once over to take in your growth before reaching over the bar on her own accord. If it was anyone else, the wood digging into your hips would be unbearable, but it was Penny. “Your dad called me, told me to take good care of you. To me that means get you good and drunk, so while you’re here you better not lay a dime on this bar top.”

“Oh, so she gets a call and I don’t.” Maverick rolls his eyes at the tendencies of your father. You give him a pat on the back, and another side hug. Your weird fever dream of a reunion has distracted you from the fact that Penny has already set two long islands on the bar, one for you one for Phoenix. And, from the fact that your childhood best friend has already sauntered his way over to the pit of Aviators.

“Love you, mean it.” You bid your goodbyes to both of them. Watching your feet and the drinks in your hands as you navigate the room, making sure you don’t stumble or spill. You hear his voice, and the latter situation becomes much more difficult to handle.

“Where’s trouble?” Of course he’s not in khakis. Of course you can’t see anything but his Hawaiian clad back because he’s so damn tall.

“ROOS?” Natasha must have sensed your slipping grip on the drinks as she swiftly grabs them out of your hands before you are pulled into yet another life threatening hug.

“THERE SHE IS.” Rooster pulls unwanted attention and Phoenix all but cackles at the way you are lifted nearly 5 feet off the ground. You grumble at him before he sits you back down on your feet.

“You are such a liar.” You narrow your eyes at him, but fail to muster up any fake anger because it’s Rooster. You’re back at Top Gun with Rooster. You wonder if this is how your father’s felt, you almost know that he’s thinking the same thing.

“And before you say anything, we’re both liars. I knew too.” Phoenix pulls you to her side, standing closer to the pool table. “More importantly this is Bob, my new WSO.”

You wonder if she has a sixth sense, then you answer your own question because of course she does. Standing at the head of the pool table is presumably Bob, better known to you as someone you owe a box of oatmeal cookies too. You shyly smile at him.

“Hi Bob, I’m Reaper.” You stick out your hand for him, he grabs it immediately. He has a strong grip, you wonder if yours was this strong when you grabbed his hand at the store. “If I had known my best friend’s life was in your hands, I definitely would’ve let you have those cookies.”

“Well, Reaper. Looks like you owe me two boxes now.” He laughs for you once again, and you notice the curl of his lips.

“I’ll give you three if you tell me your callsign.” Your hand is still in his. Rooster and Phoenix share a look, an all knowing look. Like they just solved the world’s first mystery.

“Two works just fine, ma’am. It’s Bob.” He blushes slightly. He’s not a Hangman, he’s not a Payback, or Rooster. He’s just Bob. He lets your hand drop softly with one pat from his free one. You look back at Rooster then quickly back to him.

“I’m jealous. You might have the best callsign in all the Navy.” He chuckles at you as if you are joking, but both you and Rooster know that when you were younger all you wanted your callsign to be was your name.

“Figured nothing suited me better than my own name, well nickname. Robert was my second option.” Robert Floyd. Your eyes flitted down to his badge when they had the chance. You wondered where he was from, you knew he was stationed in Lemoore, but his accent was anything but Californian. It was mature, it was smooth and at times a bit slurred, you’d noticed.

No prior experience with the male gender could have ever prepared you for what Robert “Bob” Floyd was offering you. You come to find out that he’s older, a graduate of the academy five years before yourself, two years before Rooster should’ve graduated.

The night moves through bouts of long islands and shared stories. You team up with Bob for a game or two of pool, absolutely demolishing Payback and Fanboy both times. He gives you a high five each time. You mentally tally each time you two touch, by accident or purpose.

When Phoenix drives you two home, you let her excitement of the months to come lull you into a state of self pity. Because if you were anyone else it would work.

If you were anyone else, you’d fall in a mutual love with one of the most profound men you have ever met. He’d swoon for you, give you the first love you have prayed for over nearly the past 30 years.

He’d hold your hand on top of dinner tables, reach down to tie your shoes, play in your hair as you drifted off into a nightmare, kiss your scar on a path to much a greater expression of love, bathe you when you’re old and brittle.

If you were anyone else.

As Bob drives himself home, he settles into the idea that if he were anyone else he could hold you how Rooster did.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #natasha trace #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #lewis pullman #tgm #tgm fic #robert floyd #bob Floyd fluff #bob floyd smut

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taking-a-cupcake · 5 months

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uhmm my masterlist 😅😅😅

(contains both sfw and nsfw, nsfw will be marked)

BUNGO STRAY DOGS

nikolai x fem reader (nsfw)

submissive fyodor x gn!reader (nsfw)

chuuya x gn or fem idk (nsfw)

idk what to say for this, uhm nikolai x gn (nsfw)

sub dazai 😹😹 x gn!reader (nsfw)

foursome😅 with fyodor😅 dazai😅 and chuuya 😅 (fem reader, nsfw)

fucking in the backrooms w nikolai ^_^ (nsfw)

fucking in the backrooms w nikolai part 2 (nsfw)

ranpo x gn!reader (nsfw)

shibusawa x fem!reader (nsfw)

fem!beast dazai x fem!reader (nsfw)

fem!dazai x fem!reader x fem!fyodor (nsfw)

dazai x afab/fem!reader (nsfw, fingering)

—

OKEGOM

met x fem!reader (nsfw)

—

GENSHIN IMPACT

thigh riding with ayato (nsfw)

hate sex/unrequited lover with albedo (nsfw)

—

FATE GRAND ORDER

asclepius x fem reader (nsfw)

—

OBEY ME

lucifer x male reader (nsfw)

—

WITCHS HEART

ashe bradley x fem/gn reader (nsfw)

—

YOUR TURN TO DIE (YTTD)

midori x fem!reader (nsfw)

—

RESIDENT EVIL

leon x gn!reader

—

ALIEN STAGE

ivan x fem!reader smut

—

VARIOUS MEDIA

are you ready to become a single parent (various, nsfw, joke) (various male x gn reader)

public/semi public sex (various, nsfw) - diluc, yelan, dazai, yosano, nagito, idate

various fem/masc characters x fem/gn reader (nsfw)

—

IMAGINES/DRABBLES/idk ;-;

uhm me abt modern au scara and hate sex

scaramouche choking imagine

rich genshin characters imagine ;-;

heizou imagine (nsfw)

hunting dogs!reader, 3some w fyodor and dazai imagine

me being down bad for mushitaro

xiao… imagine….. (nsfw..)

fontaine women

cop fyodor + nikolai imagine idk

—

MY OPINIONS,,,

“KITTEN” as a fucking petname

#bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #bungo stray dogs smut #okegom smut #resident evil smut #witchs heart smut #fate grand order smut #obey me smut #smut #multifandom smut #various smut #danganronpa smut

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keelt9 · 1 month

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Love Me Tender

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader.

Synopsis:

Since __ was a little kid the sky has always been her safe place, growing up just confirms it but in the top of her career, that same blue sky took away a part of her life. The moment Rooster enters her life, she will discover a new safe place, a new type of love…that same sky, which takes away someone invaluable from her seems to give her a new chance.

The problem is sometimes what you lose is a constant reminder that everything could fade away in a minute, and that’s…that's terrifying.

Note: This is something I wrote a few months after I watched Top Gun Maverick, so I don't know now that I've been a bit inspired. I thought it would be interesting to publish it and, I don't know, just “enjoy it”, I hope. 😅 Thank you for reading. 😘

Chapter 1: Hide And Run

Chaper 2: Amaranth

Chapter 3: Honey

Chapter 4: Ash

Chapter 5: Space

Chapter 6: Pear

Chapter 7:

Special Chapter 1. Look

Chapter 8:

Chapter 9:

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #fanfic #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction

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disturbedbeautywrites · 1 year

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Second Time is Not the Charm - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

"I think we should see other people." You could still perfectly remember the night that Bradley said those words to you, your heart absolutely shattering. You were too stunned to speak, not knowing where the last perfect year had gone.

You were almost sure the two of you would get married and have kids one day. Both of you were in the Navy and were stationed at the same naval base; which had to count for something, right? Or so you thought. But, as you stood in front of Bradley in his living room, you realized that didn't mean anything at all.

You felt your heart completely shatter and hit the floor as you prayed and prayed he would take it back. But, he kept his composure and just shot a look of pity at you. How could he be so okay with all of this? How could he not be hurting at all?

After standing there for what felt like an eternity, silence engulfing the two of you, you decided to leave his apartment. You picked up your broken heart and left, walking out to your car. The ride back to where you lived was dead silent as you let your thoughts fill the space the lack of music left. How could he do this?

The next few months were absolutely hell. Having to work with your ex boyfriend was definitely not something you would recommend to anyone, especially if you were still in love with them. Each and every day you got to see his stupid head in front of you and you got to hear his stupid comments to things that Hangman said. It was torture. It was absolutely torture.

"Come on, you just gotta get out there again." You sat next to Phoenix at the hard deck, two shots of tequila lined up in front of you as you quickly downed them. You heard her words and just shook your head, laying your forehead in your hands. "He was it, Phe. I saw my entire future with him down to the dog that we would own. Now I'll never get to meet Apache." Your voice was a small whimper as she put a hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

She looked at you for a second before she reached down and took your phone, downloading tinder and setting your profile up. She was playing on your phone for a few minutes before she handed it back to you. "There, now you're back out in the dating pool."

You had vowed to kill Phoenix then and there, and now as you sat on a date, the urge was even bigger. You were a navy pilot and you were used to action and adrenaline, so when you were listening to a guy talk about the excitement of accounting, you almost wanted to fake food poisoning to get out of it. Or, maybe you could convince Phoenix to pretend to have a family emergency to get you away.

But, as you typed SOS messages to several people in your phone, not a single person answered. You let out a frustrated sigh before finally having enough. "I'm sorry, I really am. But, this isn't going well." You laid down money for your part of the bill before you excused yourself outside, a small sigh leaving your lips. You felt awful, but you could not put up with that anymore.

As you sat on the sidewalk, you realized you had no way home. You had sent out text messages wanting someone to call and had recieved no answer from your usual friends; which left one person, Bradley. Your thumb hovered over his name as you swallowed thickly, your head hitting the brick wall behind you. This could not be happening. You pressed the dial button before you could change your mind, the tone playing as it went through.

"Hello?" You heard Bradley's gruff voice come through your phone, sleep lacing his words as you heard him shuffling around in bed. You squeaked out a greeting as you played with the strings on your dress, wishing you could disappear in this moment. "I need to ask a major favor." Your voice felt small and mouselike as you felt the anxiety building and building in your stomach.

You heard him hum and then there was silence on the other end of the line, his way of urging you to continue. It had been months since you had talked to him for this long, your conversations were few and far between. You tried to only talk to him if it was completely necessary when you were in the air. Otherwise, it was radio silence between the two of you. “I know we’re not together anymore but I’m on a date that went really wrong. Can you come get me?” Your words were rushed and shaky as you finally got them out, a shiver running up your spine.

You heard him take in a sharp breath before he finally agreed to come get you, the two of you hanging up. You sank down against the wall and pulled your knees up under you to keep you warm, your hands rubbing up and down your shins. You stayed in that position until the bronco pulled up, a very disheveled Bradley sitting in the front seat. You got inside, closing the door behind you as you buckled yourself in.

The two of you drove in silence before Bradley spoke up, his voice deep and curious as his brown eyes landed on you. "So, you're dating again?" You groaned at his question, leaning your head against the window. "Can we please skip this awkward bs? We both know you don't care." Your words came out more as a snap then you intended, your eyes narrowing at him as he held his hands up in surrender before he put them back on the wheel. "Just trying to make conversation, sorry."

He turned the radio on for a few brief seconds before he turned it off again, his gaze falling on you once more. "I actually miss you, you know." His words caused your mouth to go dry as you looked back at him, wanting to see if he actually meant it. He didn't show any sign of not meaning it as you searched his face desperately. "I miss you too, roo." Your voice was soft as you watched your house come into view, deciding to throw one last hail mary out into the universe to see if he regretted what he said.

"If you want us to try again, I need to hear you say it." You looked at Bradley, his eyes clearly showing the gears turning in his head. He thought about speaking up, but ultimately he kept silent. Regret was evident in his features and you couldn't help the silent laugh that left your lips. He was absolutely unbelievable. You just nodded your head at him once, getting out of the bronco. "Guess not. See you around, Bradley." With that you walked back into your apartment, making a mental note to talk to cyclone about a relocation.

#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick one shot #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #;ashs 800 follower celebration #bradley rooster bradshaw imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw blurbs

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callsigndragon · 1 year

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Tasting the Ashes | Ch. 2: Goose - Bradley / Bradley - Ames 📲

Summary: Bradley Benjamin Bradshaw-

Tasting the Ashes is a sequel of Seeing Red (Hangman AU). Go check it out if you haven't! Masterlist is on pinned. I don't tag people, follow @meigalibrary for updates!

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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Love Has No Limits

Part 2 of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader, Past! Bradley 'Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: It's been two months since you broke up with Bradley Bradshaw, two months since you've been on an aircraft carrier. Things with Jake are great; they're better than ever. But you're still terrified to hand him your heart. What will you do when a tense situation on board nearly has you lose him too?

Disclaimer: Female!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, Cursing, Sex, Sexual Themes, Minor mention of non-consensual rough sex, Panic Attack

The content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting taglist requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.I do my best to portray adult relationships in this fic. Please do not interact with this story if you feel you are not ready to read about these themes.

Word Count: 6418

A/N: Without further ado, here is the second installment of the You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes Universe. Remember when I said it was going to be short? I lied. We're looking at around 5 or 6 installments right now! All the thanks I have go to @desert-fern who was kind enough to beta read this chapter for me and teach me how to angst!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

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Aircraft carriers are both bigger and smaller than civilians think. They’re longer than three football fields and can hold four squadrons of planes, their flight and operations crews, their pilots, and all other personnel necessary for carrier function. That’s the big part. The small part is how maze-like the hallways are inside. Some are so narrow that two people can barely walk side by side with an inch of space between them. There are so many decks and ways to reach the same destination.

You still remember your first time on a carrier. It had turned you around so badly that you needed to draw maps to get around. The disorientation had taken three months to get over, and you’d only been on the ship at that time for four months while running an analysis on the ship’s radar software.

Your current time onboard has been completely different. For one, you’d gotten your sea legs much sooner and had easily found your way around the carrier. The second was your team on the carrier. Mara was still a godsend. You loved working closely with her. When the two of you put your heads together, it felt like nothing could stand in your way.

And then there were the pilots testing your work. Mickey was as badass as you'd always been told he was. Immensely smart and a genuine sweetheart to boot. The one person who you couldn't place was Jake Seresin. He was the same as always up in the air - cocky, arrogant, and confident.

It was when he was out of the air and off duty that he was completely different. Jake had been incredibly sweet to you over the past six weeks the four of you had been on the carrier. You would have never expected it of Hangman. You knew he could be nice but sweet? It still amazes you how easy it is to get along with him. A small part of your psyche is still mortified by how you cried in his arms, but the larger part of you really liked how it felt. He felt safe. He felt like you were home.

It's past midnight as you toss and turn in your bunk. Your mind is running around in circles; all you can think of is Jake, Jake, Jake. In actuality, it has only been two months since you broke up with Bradley Bradshaw. While his betrayal still stings, like salt in a wound, in truth, the wound has been healing slowly. Initially, that wound was all you could feel, all your love turning to ash instantly. You’d felt like the aftermath of a forest fire with the gnarled ashy husks of trees stretching into the sky as embers still burned on the ground below. Then you’d finally let yourself cry that night. You’d felt all the embers flicker out under that warm spring rain and felt something new take root.

It’s the something new that’s been consuming you recently. Your heart stutters in its steady cadence when Jake looks at you nowadays. You get lost gazing into his green eyes, your normally quick brain grinding to a halt when faced with the power of his gaze. You’d thought falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw and its aftermath were the most intense emotions you’d ever felt. You’re starting to think you were wrong. You’re not shy. 90% of the time, you’d argue that you’re the opposite. But occasionally, Jake will sit down next to you, say something witty, flash that megawatt grin, and take your breath away. Every time that happens, you feel like a recalcitrant computer, needing to force-reboot your brain before it gets stuck on his dimples, eyes, or the toothpick in his mouth.

The worst part is how you used to pride yourself on your professionalism. With Jake Seresin, that professionalism had been stripped away as you poured out your heart and soul, showing him your weakness. And you’re constantly feeling wrong-footed. It’s an undercurrent to each interaction you’ve had with him, and you’re unsure if you want more with him. Can you take things slow? Your bruised heart might be screaming, “NO!”, at the top of its lungs, but your head is chanting, “YES!”, back just as adamantly.

It’s as quiet as it can be on an aircraft carrier. The creaking of your bunk, the steadfast rocking of the boat, and the snuffling sounds of people asleep around you are all you can hear. And then you hear the wheezing groan of the bunk above you as Mara climbs down. Her voice is sleep mussed as she leans over and slips on her shoes.

“Y’can’t sleep, can you? I’m gonna go switch out with one of the boys. Your tossing and turning are keeping me awake.”

“‘M sorry for keeping you awake, Mar. I haven’t been sleeping well. I hope the boys don’t get too angry at you for disturbing them.”

“Mickey might. But Jake? I don’t think he’ll object if I tell him it’s for you.”

And as the metal door clangs shut softly behind her, you’re left alone with your thoughts again. Obviously, you're not great at hiding how your thoughts turn to static in his presence. But despite what Mara has been telling you for months and Mickey for the past couple of weeks, you still can’t believe that Jake Seresin could ever harbor a soft spot for you. You’re rapidly eclipsing a singular soft spot for him, yourself. You can feel your resolve waver and become a pool of goop nearly daily. You’re not sure it’s safe to expose your heart again. Not really. But god, do you want to try.

You’re startled out of your reverie as the door opens. In the half-light spilling in from the hallway, you see a silhouette you’ve become intimately acquainted with over the past months.

“Hey, Bitsie. Mar told me you were having trouble sleeping. Mind if I join you?”

“J-Jake. Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, and you’re expecting to hear the creak of the bunk above you as he climbs up and settles in. But that’s not what you get. Instead, you get pushed to one side of the bunk and there is suddenly an interloper in your sheets. You can feel his naked skin pressing into yours as he drags the blankets over your shoulders and his hands sliding soothingly up and down your back as you lie stiff against him.

“C’mon, Bitsie. Relax. I’ve got you.”

The sweetness in his tone has you reeling. It takes a few moments before you finally let yourself go limp, surrendering to the thrall of his sleep-warm skin. He still smells like his cologne, something warm and musky with a slight hint of floral tones. And his body feels like a furnace. He's so warm. His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you in until you can feel the heat of his breath against your face.

“There. Isn’t that more comfortable?” He sounds so smug as he settles in with his big hand resting flush against your back.

Your answering hum is weak, nearly too quiet. Your heart is pounding, and you can already feel your thoughts race.

"Y'know, Jake, I didn't think you'd do this. I thought you'd take Mara's bunk."

"Mm. I gathered by how you went as stiff as a board as I pulled you close."

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest from where you are. Each breath is hypnotically steady.

"I was going to suggest an orgasm or two to help you unwind, but I didn't think you'd appreciate that suggestion."

You smack his arm, keeping your hand there as you grin into his chest. You’re grumbling under your breath as he tugs you even closer. Your feet are trapped between his calves as he rests his hands against your hips. You can feel the heat and roughness of his grip as he trails his fingers over the sliver of skin exposed from where your t-shirt had ridden up over the past hours you had been tossing and turning.

A chill slinks down your spine at the gentle touch, sending shocks of unease through you. It reminds you of another set of fingers gripping too tight at your hip in the heat of a fun night at the Hard Deck. Bradley had been drinking quite heavily that night, and he’d pawed at you, his normally gentle hands rough and harsh as they traced your skin. Jake had pulled him away that day and helped him sober slightly. But when he’d come back, Bradley had possessively clutched at you. He’d called you a slut that night, for the first time, as he fucked you until your eyes welled with tears and your cunt stung from the constant abuse he was wringing on your system.

The constant gentle press of Jake’s hands on your skin had you nearly hyperventilating. You push them away, and you’re sure Jake can tell how uncomfortable you are as he withdraws his hands immediately. He leaves as much space as possible in the tiny bunk between you, and you’re comforted at least a little by how seriously he takes your need for personal space. It takes several long moments before your breathing slows, and that irrational panic begins to fade. You’re reminding yourself repeatedly that Jake isn’t Bradley as you carefully ease yourself into his embrace. His hands are hesitant as he curls his arm around your upper back. Your voice isn’t steady and a little wet as you finally respond to his joking remark from earlier.

"Mmm… but you'd love it, wouldn't you? Another feather in your cap? Another notch in your bedpost?"

You can't help the sardonic lilt in your voice as your mood flags. You're not sure you could handle it if sex were all he wanted from you.

"What cap, darlin'? As far as I'm concerned, I don't have one. Not anymore. I haven't even thought about another girl in months. It's only been you. But from the beginning, you made it explicitly clear that Bradshaw was the only man you'd ever want to be with. You also made it equally clear that you didn't want anything to do with me. So I stopped flirting with you and stopped making you smile. I couldn't handle seeing you with him. And then, when the mission started, I couldn't let you hurt alone."

He sounds so different from the Jake, the Hangman you're used to hearing. His voice is gentle and soft as he pulls you close again.

"That's why I guess I've been different since this mission started. I just wanted to make you smile again. I wanted to heal your heart."

"Jake." You can't hide your shock. How do you respond? Did he just confess his feelings for you? You can't resist wrapping your arms around his waist and nuzzling close to his skin.

"M'sorry. M'sorry if I led you on."

"I know, baby. It wasn't your intention. And I know this isn't the right time. You've had a hard few months. I'm not going to pressure you into moving too fast. But you can lean on me, baby. I've got your back. I promise."

You curl in closer to his chest until you can feel the beat of his heart. His shoulders are tense as you press a feather-soft kiss against his skin.

"Jake. Thank you. I wish I'd never picked Bradley over you. We would've been so happy together. And you would've never hurt me as he did."

Jake presses a feather-soft kiss against your forehead as your words peter out.

“I wouldn’t have, baby. I would’ve made you so happy. You wouldn’t have wanted for a single thing. I’d spend every day making sure you were incandescently happy. But it wasn’t meant to be — you picked Bradshaw. I thought you made the right choice, too. When you smiled that gorgeous grin at him that day, I knew I couldn’t love you how you deserve to be loved. And we can’t go back in time to change that. All we can control is where we go from here. I pick you, darlin’. All you need to do is pick me too. Not now, but when you’re ready.”

The emotion in his words makes something warm glow in your chest. His chest heaves against your skin as he breathes deeply. You trace your fingers across his face, feeling the prickle of his stubble against the pads as you cup his jaw. His breathing picks up as you press your index finger against his mouth. His lips are soft and moist, slightly chapped against your fingertips as you press lightly against the supple skin.

“What’re you doing, baby?” You grin at the amusement in his tone, withdrawing your finger and pressing a kiss against it before tapping it against his mouth. You’re not expecting him to kiss your fingers back. The warmth in your chest ignites like a bonfire at the gentle caress. Your throat is tight as you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

"Jake, as much as the past months hurt, I also learned a lot from the experience. I learned a lot about myself. What I do and don't like in a partner. And what I deserve as a part of a relationship. I won't ever let anything like that happen again. I promise I’ll choose wisely this time, sweetheart."

Your words are slurring with your exhaustion. The warmth of Jake's skin sends drowsiness coursing through you.

“I have all the faith in you, sweetheart. And we’re going to talk about what happened to make you nearly have a panic attack later, too. Okay?”

"Okay. G'night, Jake." You can feel his smile as your eyes flutter closed.

"G'night, Bitsie."

Waking up is hard the next morning. There's a heavy limb draped across your back, and you're pressed tight against warm skin. Your legs are intertwined, and it's the most comfortable you've been in a long time. Even in a bunk made for one, it doesn't feel crowded. You feel at home, more than the last time you’d shared a bed with a man.

Or at least, you would if you didn't hear chattering from two people who don't belong in your quarters before the call to muster even rings in the early morning. They’re not trying to moderate their volume, either. You nuzzle into Jake closer, praying his bicep will block the noise from disturbing your sleep. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel his lips against your hair. If you hide long enough, would they just disappear? Apparently not. The longer you stay curled up in Jake’s arms, the louder the chatter grows, now interspersed with calls of his name, and the bigger his smile grows against the top of your head. He presses one final kiss against your forehead before releasing you and slipping out of the bunk.

“What’s the hurry, Fanboy?” His sleep-mussed voice is going to take you out. It’s rough and rich and deep. You want nothing more than to hear that voice call you “darlin’” again and cuddle up in his arms. But he’s awake and talking to Fanboy about something you can barely hear. His hair is fluffy atop his head, and he still hasn’t put on his shirt. You can just see the shadow of him through the soft sweatpants covering his legs, and the sight has your thighs clenching as he whirls around, grabs his worn Navy tee, and shrugs it on. All the levity has drained from his face as he takes two steps and crouches in front of you. You’re sitting in the bunk now, and your new position has brought you level with his face.

“What’s going on?” Your voice is soft as you cup his jaw. His eyes close at the press of your fingers against his lower lip. Like the night before, he presses a kiss against your fingertips before pulling you in close enough to whisper in your ear.

"G'Morning, Baby. I wish we could've stayed in bed longer, but something big is happenin’. The Captain wants us suited up and on deck to run flight patrols. The situation is rapidly developing. I have to go. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I need you to know that in case something bad goes down."

An unpleasant knot tightens in your chest as you tug him in closer by wrapping your hand around the base of his neck. You press a feather-soft kiss against his lips before hugging him tight. His arms wrap tight around your waist, and you can feel his shoulders tense as the adrenaline begins to course through his blood.

“Take care of yourself, and please take care of Mickey. Fly safe, fly true. Don’t do anything life-threatening. And above all, come home. Please.” You can’t keep the catch in your voice as you run your fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck. “I just found you. Come home to me. So I can tell you I love you for the first time.”

That’s when you hear his breath hitch, and you’re being properly kissed. Everything else melts away except for Jake. It’s a painfully sweet kiss that has your heart racing even as dread slides its cold hooks into you. And it’s over far too soon as he pulls away before following Fanboy to get suited up. It’s a sober mood in your quarters as you and Mara get ready for the day and head to the flight operations center.

The entire ship is a hive of activity. You both have to flatten against the walls multiple times on the way, dodging sailors, flight personnel, and whoever else felt the need to run around in a ship bracing for an attack. You and Mara reach the Captain just as the jets take off. From the Flight Ops Center, you have a near perfect line of sight to see the planes rise like a flock of metallic birds into the sky. You can barely make out Jake and Mickey waiting on deck for their signal to launch and your heart feels tight as you fight the urge to steal a headset and tell him you love him. But you can’t, so all you do is clutch at the railing in front of you with all your strength and pray that they, that he will, come back safe.

“Captain Mills. What’s happening?” The Captain had already begun to sweat through his uniform as he beckons you and Mara closer.

You can hear the emotion in his voice as he downs the cold coffee in his mug before speaking in clipped tones, “At 10 past 0100, we received reports of patrols in our airspace. Naturally, the first thing we did was contact the COMPACFLT. But the admiral had no notice of flight operations happening in our airspace.”

The Captain pauses, seeming to try and find the necessary thread in what you assumed was a tangled web of information that would take hours to unwind. “The only reasonable assumption we can make is that it is the enemy. I’m afraid, ladies, that we are now standing by and evaluating the threat. This has the potential to evolve into a serious situation. We are requiring all non-essential personnel to remain confined to quarters. Consider this an order.”

With nothing better to do, and your heart having taken up permanent residence in your throat, you both head back to your quarters. Your heart aches as you fall into your bunk, which you had made roughly before you rushed out earlier, desperate for any news on the situation Jake was flying into. The pillows still smell like Jake, and if you screw your eyes shut tightly enough, you can still feel the tight press of his arms around you. You want nothing more than to rewind time, to go back to those few precious hours in the middle of the night when you’d had him in your arms - when you could’ve kissed him and when you could’ve told him you loved him. The what-ifs crowd your brain like a feral swarm of bees, sending your thoughts buzzing angrily. The more thoughts crowd your brain, the worse you feel.

You don’t think you can stand losing Jake. You just found him. That small seed of something between you has only just sprouted. You want to see it grow and flourish into an oak tree; tall and sturdy enough to withstand earthquakes, forest fires, lightning strikes, and flash floods. A tree strong enough to support a treehouse filled with tiny feet, hands, love, and laughter. But you’re not sure that you’ll ever be able to see that nascent sprout grow. Not when half of your heart is in a jet potentially flying into enemy crosshairs. Not when you last told him, “Come home so I can tell you I love you for the first time” instead of the “I love you” he deserved. The “I love you” that you had seen he had so desperately wanted to hear. Why had you said that? What if your words, your ardent pleas, weren’t enough? You aren’t omnipotent. You can’t change the trajectory of missiles or bullets. You have no control over anything, not even your racing thoughts as you realize that you might never see him again. Are you going to be cursed to spend the rest of your life imagining the what-ifs of an entire life that could have been?

It’s been hours since you and Mara have been confined to your quarters. Periodically you’ve heard the roar and whine of aircraft engines as they touch down and take off again. Every time you hear the engines’ roar, your traitorous heart skips a beat. You wait, staring at the door, hoping that Jake will bound through, Mickey behind him, still in his flight suit with his hair sweat streaked and sticking to his forehead. And each time, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as the minutes pass and you hear the engines tick up again.

"Hey, you doing okay, Bitsie?" Mara’s voice shatters through the daydream you had crafted and it hurts. All you want is Jake in your arms once more, feeling his strong body against yours, hearing his heartbeat in your ear as he holds you close.

"As okay as can be expected, Mar." Your voice is thin in the silence of your quarters. Mara’s sitting on the sole desk chair while you’re curled up in your sheets. They don’t smell like Jake anymore. It’s driving you crazy, not knowing. You’ve cried what feels like an ocean’s worth of tears and your eyes are swollen and puffy, your voice thick and hoarse from your muffled sobs.

“Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Jake last night? He kissed you this morning. You can’t tell me he’s just a friend. Not after that.”

Her voice is gentle, her eyes and hands beseeching as you try and fail to find the words. You drag your hand down your face before facing her, letting your legs dangle off the bed as you rest your elbows on your thighs.

“He’s not just a friend, Mar. He might be everything, and I was too stupid to admit it before now. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that, you know?” There is lingering bitterness in your tone, frustration at yourself for the mistakes you knew you had made in not choosing Jake in the first place.

Your breathing is ragged as you push away the hot feeling in the back of your throat. “I don’t know when it happened. Honest. I didn’t even know I had him, you know? He told me last night that he was interested in me from the moment he met me. But when I picked Bradley, he backed off because he knew that Bradley would treat me as I deserved. That Bradley would love me in a way that he couldn’t. He was wrong. And I was, too, Mar. How do I make the right choice when that choice might not even be here after today?” You are crying again. Somehow you still have tears left to cry, staring at the wall in front of you, these last tears dripping down your chin, marking your pants with the remnants of your despair.

“I - I don’t know.” Her position mirrors yours as the two of you stare at each other in silence. “But you can’t give up hope. You know they’re good pilots. They’re the best of the best, Bits. If anyone can pull through, it’ll be Jake and Micks. They have to.”

You clasp your hands tightly until all you can feel is the aching stretch of over-taxed muscles. Mara’s right. You can’t do anything but hope. Hope that the boys are alright and hope that your updates to the targeting and radar systems are enough to protect them.

It’s a runner from the Captain banging on your door who finally brings you news. The poor man is sweat-drenched, panting as he pauses to catch his breath before delivering his message. “The Captain wants you both in the Flight Ops Center. Something’s up with the radar system on Lieutenants Seresin and Garcia’s plane. We need you to help debug and resolve the situation. The improvements you’ve made while working on laser targeting are beyond us.”

“Understood.”

It’s your turn to run through the hallways and have people jump out of your way, Mara right behind you. This time when you enter the Flight Ops Center, it’s pin-drop silent. All eyes are on a singular, all too familiar display. The radar output shows an awfully familiar F-18/A. And you can see exactly why the Captain had called for you and Mara. The display is flickering erratically, jets blinking in and out of sight at random.

With your heart in your throat, you march right up to the tech on the computer system. "Give me your headset and your seat." Your tone leaves no room for argument, but he still protests, turning away from his fiddling with the system, to look at you in both frustration and disbelief.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't do that without the Captain's orders."

"I know. And right now, I don't care. I programmed that radar system. Captain Mills!" You are barking out an order right now, your voice quivering with authority. "Either you get your man out of this seat or I take it from him."

"Let her have the seat, Ensign George. And the headset. I called her here. She's one of the civilian consultants out of the Pentagon who built the damned thing."

You accept the headset and start examining the display in front of you. Pressing a button on the side of the headset you connect to Jake and Mickey's comms. "Auxiliary Patrol. This is Flight Ops Control. How read?"

"Audio clear, Flight Ops Control. How do you read me?" Your heart jumps when you hear Mickey’s voice emanate clearly through the headset.

Your relief washes over you, settling your racing thoughts and grounding you as you confirm their audio signals before responding, "Loud and clear, Auxiliary Patrol."

This time, when you hear from Jake and Mickey, it’s Jake’s voice on comms. "Auxiliary Patrol, we’re seeing multiple bogeys on the radar, but they’re ghosting in and out. Can you confirm?”

“Confirming loud and clear. We’re seeing the same thing here.” Your frustration colors your tone as the radar display glitches in front of your eyes."Do visuals confirm what the radar is saying?"

"Flight Ops, negative. Visual showing clear skies." Mickey’s voice is slightly cheeky as he responds. You sigh, knowing that you’re going to have to do something drastic to resolve this issue.

“Auxiliary Patrol. Can you turn on the external cameras? Flight Ops will act as your eyes while we reboot the radar.”

“Copy, ops. Cameras are live.” You can hear the slightest flick of the switch as Mickey enables the cameras that you and Mara had been using to help monitor the laser targeting system.

“Captain?”

The man nods, silently giving his permission for the order he knew would come next. “The floor is yours.”

“Right. Teams of five, report to one of the monitors. Keep your eyes peeled. We’ve got aviators flying blind and I’ll be damned if we’re taking home coffins after today.” Your voice leaves no room for protests as you address the room.

The men explode into activity around you and Mara. The two of you, in the meanwhile, keep silent, all your energy on the radar system, scanning the code flying across the screen with eagle-eyes. There aren’t any defects, so you decide to turn the radar back on. “Auxiliary Patrol, this is Flight Ops. We’re rebooting the radar and targeting systems now.”

“Copy, Flight Ops.”

There’s a tense silence blanketing the Flight Ops Center as you hit ‘Enter’ and watch the radar display in front of you blink back to life. It flickers and your breath catches when it stays dark for several long moments before illuminating. It’s finally, blessedly stable. There aren’t ghost bogeys on the screen anymore. Just one very clearly labeled F/A-18A and one very real SU-57.

“Are you seeing what we are, Flight Ops?”

“Copy, Auxiliary Patrol. One bogey, north, northwest bound, approaching your position at 400 knots.”

“Copy, Ops. What are your orders?” Jake’s voice is tense as he spits the words down the microphone.

That’s when Captain Mills finally weighs in again. “Do a flyby, son. Do not engage unless they do. I’ll get on the horn with the COMPACFLT and keep him apprised of the situation.” You relinquish the headset and station back to the radar tech you’d bullied them from and retreat to the peripherals of the room.

The gnawing desperate ache in your chest, the one that had been partially alleviated hearing Jake’s voice, is back again. It’s clawing at you as you clutch at a railing and plant yourself in a corner of the Ops Center. Captain Mills is talking furiously into a satellite phone, you presume to the COMPACFLT. But your eyes are on Jake and Mickey’s jet and their radar display. You can feel each swooping maneuver in the pit of your stomach as their jet approaches the SU-57.

It’s incredibly quiet in the Flight Ops Center as the two jets fly side by side for several long moments. You’re praying with everything you have that this doesn’t escalate, And then, like an answer to all of your prayers, the SU-57 breaks away, heading back in the direction it came.

“Ops, bogey one, now 400 yards away. Distance growing. Permission to return to carrier?”

“Permission granted.”

Captain Mills stalks towards where you and Mara stand. “Thanks for your assistance, ladies. We’re resuming normal operations per order of the COMPACFLT. Your mission will resume bright and early in the morning. I expect to see the both of you and Lieutenants Seresin and Garcia in the Flight Ops Center at 0800. Am I clear?”

“Yessir!” You’re quick to respond with a snappy salute. You’ve trespassed on Captain Mill’s authority one time too many already today with your show of power to the radar tech and for the sake of this operation, you’d rather not step on his toes any more than necessary

Your heart is light as you walk back to your quarters. There’s a sense of urgency dogging your steps, your lips curling unbidden into a giddy grin. By tacit agreement, Mara leaves you at the door before heading to Jake and Mickey’s quarters two doors down. He’s safe! He’s safe! He’s safe! You can’t quell the trembling of your hands as you wait. You reach for a book to read but you barely get a few words in before you’re dropping it again. It’s only been minutes since you left Flight Ops but your heart is doing acrobatics in your chest at the knowledge that Jake is returning soon. You bite your lip, maybe work will quell these jitters.

Of course, right as you pull up the radar system blueprints, the door to your quarters opens and Jake staggers in. He’s stinking of jet fuel, and coated in sweat, but you’ve never seen a better sight. He’s whole and safe and here with you. It’s all that you’ve been wishing for since he left you early this morning. You want to touch him, make sure he's not a figment of your imagination or a cruel dream from the depths of your subconscious. But no matter how you try to get your legs to move, you're frozen before him. That's when he moves, carefully cupping your jaw and drawing your eyes to his.

"I'm back, baby. Safe and sound, just as promised." Jake’s voice is quiet, like he’s afraid that speaking too loudly will shatter the bubble you two have created around yourselves. His eyes are filled with a softness unlike anything you’ve ever seen in man’s eyes before, let alone his. The sight makes your heart speed up, overjoyed to be in the calm his presence brings you.

You return his tender caress before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Jake’s hands are gentle as they bracket your waist before he finally lowers his mouth to yours. His mouth tastes like salt, and he stinks, but you can't begrudge the man you adore this kiss. He's more than deserving of it.

When you part for air, you can feel the imperceptible shudder wracking his muscles as the adrenaline drains away. "Go shower, Jake. You stink." There is a light humor in your tone as you grin up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, reveling in the minute hitch in his breath as you meet his eyes once more.

His pout is sweet, and you can't resist pecking his lips once more as he turns and walks back out the door. It's only twenty short minutes later when he walks back in and collapses into your bunk. His hair is still damp, the longer hairs at the top of his head curling slightly as you pull on your own pajamas and crawl into the bunk next to him.

He mirrors your positions from the night before, tugging you in until his head rests against your breasts and you can feel his warmth across your whole body. You card your fingers through his hair, content to sit in the silence as long as he needs you to.

"Talk to me, baby." His voice is hushed and muffled against your breasts as he breathes deeply. "Tell me how you're doing."

"I feel like I should be asking you that, Jake. I was a wreck when you were up there, but I'm better now. I'm always better in your arms." You hope he knows that you mean every syllable, and you do. A selfish part of you wants to stay in his arms forever; just the two of you in your own little bubble for as long as you can.

Your throat is tight with the same tears you'd shed all day as you trace over the curve of his ear. "I love you. I should've told you before you left," you whisper, scared to say the words any louder lest they be ripped from you both.

Jake gasps before kissing you again, hard. He pours all his love and affection into the kiss and you return the ardor as best you can. The two of you kiss for several long moments before he rests his forehead against yours. You lie curled into each other for a while longer before you nuzzle at his cheek.

"Why d'you call me Bitsie, Jake? I've been wondering for a while."

He chuckles before pecking your lips and dragging you in until your lips are pressed to his collarbone. "I started calling you Bitsie because of the first demonstration of the radar you ever gave us. You were talking about manipulating bits. Gosh, it was probably only a couple of weeks since you'd come to Miramar. I was so gone for you already, baby. You're gorgeous, sweet, and smart as a whip. I wanted to show you I was listening to what you said."

"But I didn't take it that way. I was so rude to you the first time you called me that. I thought you were making fun of me." Your voice is soft as you trace a light pattern across his ribs. Your thoughts race as you catalog every interaction you remember having with Jake over your months in Miramar. Had Bradley Bradshaw really brainwashed your perception of him so terribly? Your mind races as you try and fail to find an explanation for your actions. They’ve been petty and rude and you don’t recognize the girl you are in them.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why did I assume what I did? Jake, how can you ever forgive me?” You hate how small your voice is, the regret at your actions over the past months coloring your tone.

“I can forgive you, sweetheart, because I love you. I have for a really long time,” Jake soothes, one hand cupping your jaw. “And you had a Chicken on your shoulder telling you who was right and who was wrong. Him and I? We have always been on the opposite ends of that scale. And I’ll give you one guess as to which of us is where.”

“He’s wrong, Jake. He’s wrong about you, he was wrong about me. We’ll show him. I’m not hiding this. You’re mine, now. And I want it all with you. Dates, kissing because you feel like it, dancing to the Jukebox in the Hard Deck, everything.”

“We’ll write this story with more than words, darling. I promise. And I love you.” You can feel your eyes close as you curl closer into his embrace, all the tension in your body finally draining away as you fall asleep.

In the morning, you’ll be back to working on the laser targeting systems, back to normalcy. But there’ll be something new to scope the limits of, as well. The butterflies in your stomach this time feel like flower petals kissing your skin. It’s a good portent for the days to come.

Taglist

@greenbaby12 ✈️ @mayhemmanaged ✈️ @desert-fern ✈️ @roostersforevergirl ✈️ @cassiemitchell ✈️ @eli2447 ✈️ @the-romanian-is-bae ✈️ @luckyladycreator2 ✈️ @lunamoonbby ✈️ @daphne-turner ✈️ @callsign-athena ✈️ @angeliccks ✈️ @dakotakazansky ✈️ @daisydaisygoose ✈️ @sarahsmi13s ✈️@roostette ✈️ @roosterforme ✈️ @lavenderbradshaw ✈️ @bobby-r2d2-floyd ✈️ @lovinglyeternal ✈️ @bradleybeachbabe ✈️

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#star writes #you play stupid games you win stupid prizes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #past rooster x reader #past bradley bradshaw x reader #past bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster is a dick #he's not the greatest in this #top gun imagine #top gun angst

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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The Rockstar, Her Husband, & Their Dagger Ducklings 🐥🎸 | TGM Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Read ‘It’s A Long Way To The Top’ first before this!

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions or past drug use & alcohol, 80s references, found family troupe | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5.3k

Premise: everyone loves a found family story. The one tells the what it looks like when you put a married couple, in which the husband is the Navy’s most famous pilot and the wife is the most iconic front-woman in rock n roll history, with their sorta adopted adult children that are the Navy’s best of the best pilots. Join Maverick, his rockstar wife, and the dagger ducklings on just some of their rock and rollin’ adventures.

Requested 📨: yes/no

Note: As soon as I finished IALWTTT I immediately started thinning about doing a little mini blurb about Mav, his rockstar wife, and the dagger squad as they become a little family. Plus I thought of how they would be if they were at the Rock n Roll HOF induction 😉 hope y’all like this and let me know what you think! -Bee 🐝

—————————————

There is only one word that could describe best what it’s like when a 60 and 58 year old couple decide to unofficially adopt seven 30+ year olds as their surrogate children…..It’s madness.

Well it’s madness about 80% of the time just because they’re basically teenagers in adult bodies whenever they get together. For example, Mav and Y/n really got a taste of what it was like when the daggers were in the same room just the night after the concert when they invited them over for Saturday dinner. The barbecue was going, drinks were passed around, music was on full blast and things were calm…..until it was time to sit down at the table.

“That is not how I got my callsign, Seresin!” Nat chucked a celery stick at the blonde. The conversation of call signs came into play about thirty minutes into the meal with Jake taking it upon himself to tell the stories he personally witnessed or heard from others. He had just got done explaining that Phoenix got black out drunk in flight school, threw up all over the dorms but managed to clean it all up, and then woke up in time the next day for training.

“That’s what I heard, Trace,” he defends with hands raised, laughing as the others try not to receive the wrath of the firebird.

“And who was your source?”

Jake doesn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus, “Rooster.”

“Dude!” The pilot shouts, causing Y/n to do an expression of, ‘nooooo.’

Nat threw a celery at him, “What the hell, Bradshaw, that’s not what happened.” Rooster sends a glare to Jake, before facing Nat with a look of plea, “forgive me, Nat. But that’s what I remembered happening.” Her reaction is one that reads, ‘are you serious?’

“You were just as wasted as I was! How the hell did you manage to remember that?”

“So you did black out and showed up in time for training?” Fanboy asks with slight awe. There was no way in hell he’d be about to do that. If it were him, he’d likely still be in bed and get chewed out for missing.

“Look,” she sighs, “the event itself happened, yes,” she ignores the sounds of ‘damn, Phee,’ ‘I knew it was true,’ the glare they receive causes them to shut up. “But I already had Phoenix as my callsign. That isn’t what gave me it, but people were just like, ‘no wonder they say you rise from the ashes.’ So, you can forget about that being the origin cause it wasn’t.”

Murmurs sound and then Y/n politely asks, “How did you get the name then, hon?” This time Nat blushes and tells the truth, “I used to be obsessed with the X-Men comics as a kid. And well….Jean Grey was my favorite character so I dressed up as her Phoenix form almost every Halloween for five years. Word got around and the rest was history.”

The rest of the night was full of laughs, games, and conversation.

“I am open about the fact I did…dabble in the white powder during my late teens-early twenties,” Y/n nodded when the question about her past drug use arose. The information was public that she and other band members smoked weed early in their careers and experimented with harder substances. In an interview with the Rolling Stone magazine shortly after the band went on hiatus Y/n confirmed the last time she used drugs was in 1988.

“Unfortunately it was common in the 80s—especially in the industry, I mean the amount of people you met who did it was longer than Santa’s list. When you have young, vulnerable kids who are new to the scene and having to migrate the spotlight like we did things tend to happen,” she waves a hand to emphasize her point. “But I only did it in social settings. It was only a few times really and the last time I did a line I swear I saw God. When I tell you it was like witnessing the Big Bang in real time—I-I immediately cut it off after that. It was so bad—never again.”

At one point Jake asked, “tell us your top five favorite moments in your entire career.”

“Oh God,” she laughed, turning to Mav who had the same expression. “Only five? That’s gonna need time to think but……” she starts counting off with her fingers, “in no particular order: the Super Bowl, duh. The first ever MTV Video Music Awards—you just had to be there. Smoking a blunt with Snoop Dogg after the 2001 Grammys,” she paused when they all hollard with cheers. “Performing with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr,” Bob made an audible sound like it was the coolest thing he’d ever heard. “And…..oh gosh there’s so many more—SNL, winning the Oscar, making out with Matt Dillion after The Outsiders premiere,” Mav rolled his eyes at that knowing she was teasing him. Of course he knew she’d been with Hollywood heartthrobs before they met, men and women alike. Mav wasn’t insecure or anything. They’d been together for so long he had nothing to be insecure for. It was just that he had met Matt Dillion in the 90s…..and could tell the actor still had lust for his woman.

Y/n couldn’t help but tease him knowing Pete was obviously jealous the night she introduced the two at a party they attended. It was just a friendly encounter with Y/n having her eyes for the pilot, disregarding the affectionate gaze from her former fling. “He won’t stop staring at you,” Pete pouted when he caught Matt’s eyes for a fourth time, once again checking his girlfriend out. Chuckling, Y/n made herself comfortable in Pete’s lap, pulling him closer so they barely had space as she went in to kiss him after saying, “Let him stare, baby. He had a chance and he missed it. Now he’s in the past and you’re my present and future.”

Yeah, Matt left the party shortly after that display.

Y/n kissed blushing Pete’s cheek and took a moment to think, “But I gotta include the first time we played at The Garden. I think that’s the moment when I really felt like I was a rockstar.”

The dogs were having a grand time with all the attention they were getting. Goose spent most of the time on Bradley’s lap, with Y/n scolding the man for feeding the pup some of the plain chicken wing meat. Plans were arranged for the upcoming months which included Mickey and Jake’s birthdays, Halloween and of course, Y/n’s HOF induction. The daggers were under the impression only Mav and possibly Rooster would get to go in person to the event, so they worked on meeting up to watch the live feed together.

Little did they know their resident rockstar was already conspiring.

Speaking of Halloween, the party was a night to remember when the holiday arrived. It had already been established that Mav and Y/n knew how to throw a party. Mickey and Jake’s birthday were just two examples in which the dagger squad, the band, and their close friends were thankful Y/n’s closest neighbors were quite the walk away. Halloween, however, was where the couple got to shine.

Not only were they best dressed as Jack Skeleton & Sally, with their dogs all dressed up as bats, but their entire home looked straight out The Nightmare Before Christmas. The front lawn was like a graveyard, with a giant inflatable pumpkin. Inside was spectacular with the sunken living room transformed into a dancefloor. One could expect the daggers were trying not to lose their mind with the amount of stars they met. Duran Duran was there, which was expected since the two bands had been friends since the 80s but also because of the induction in just a few short weeks.

Robert Downey Jr. was in attendance with his family—Fanboy pretty much shit his pants when he realized who Y/n was introducing him too. The Marvel junkie in him was going crazy. “Hey, buddy, nice to meet ya. Any friend of the Mitchell’s is a friend of mine,” Robert shook his hand, the pilot’s mouth a gape causing Y/n to chuckle and pat his back, “I think we broke the poor boy, Robert.”

Nat found herself having a drink with Carrie Ann Moss from the Matrix, who she was dressed as her iconic character. “Nice outfit,” the actress complimented with a genuine smile. Nat didn’t know how she managed to find the words to speak, but somehow said, “t-thank you. Wow um—it’s an honor.” Before she knew it the two women were talking with Carrie Ann telling her all the behind the scenes info of her most renowned sci-fi trilogy.

Fucking Serena and Venus Williams was there. Coyote just about had a heart attack and texted his mother right after meeting them saying, “You’ll never believe who I just met, ma.” He then proceeds to send the selfie they took to his family group chat. They were losing their minds just as he was.

Payback’s fan girl moment came when he ended up being challenged in a dance off with the one and only Janet Jackson. What made it better…he was dressed as Michael Jackson from his Thriller music video. It’s probably what had the singer challenge him when the song ‘Scream’ she did with brother came on. The costume Janet had involved a mask, so the man didn’t even know who he was dancing with until the song came to an end.

“Does he know that’s Janet?” Y/n came up to her husband, grinning at the sight. Mav shook his head, “I don’t think he does.” When the mask revealed the face hidden behind, Reuben forgot what the hell was even happening around him. “Holy shit,” was all he could say, grinning wide as she approached with a nod of respect, “You got moves, kid.”

Jake came up and slapped him on the back, “That was fucking awesome!” Payback was still in disbelief, exhaling with awe, “I just dance battled Janet Jackson…. while dressed as Micheal Jackson, to the song Scream by Micheal and Janet Jackson…I’ve won at life.”

Rooster, as usual, was the life of the party. A lot of the guests he already had the privilege of meeting years before. So one could imagine how stunned his friends were to see him nonchalantly shooting pool with fucking Dave Grohl from the Foo Fighters. “You’ve gotten better since the last time we played,” the guitarist chuckled when Rooster hit the winning shot.

“Ain’t no better place to become pro than in a Navy officer bar.”

“Guess you’ll have to teach me a thing or two now, kid.”

Beach days were reserved for dogfight football. Ever since that first time playing it the pilots couldn’t play it any other way. Hondo or Y/n would be ref and there would be times where the band would come out with their kids so they had more players.

“Ready….set…” Y/n blows the whistle and the balls are tossed to their respective quarterback. The speaker blasting music would muffle out due to the shouts and cheers, Y/n squealing when Mav would lift her over his shoulder whenever he scored. “Pete Mitchell put me down!” A slap to his jean clad ass would result in her being tossed in the water. “Hey! Oh you little—,” the pilot was yanked down, falling into the upcoming wave to the sound of his wife’s laughter.

Sometimes the dogs would join in on the fun at the private beach. It always ended with Rooster, Mav, and Coyote chasing after Goose and Ice, the mutts stealing the balls in the middle of the game. Sweet Bella was always on her best behavior, cuddling with the younger kids who opted out of playing. “Goose, get back here!” “Ice, now is not the time!”

Four days before the induction ceremony, Y/n gathers her ducklings to the home for their monthly barbecue. “Gather ‘round, ducklings,” she taps a spoon to her wine glass. “Gather ‘round.”

“The Queen has something to say,” Rooster adds when they take too long to circle the table, resulting in Y/n to lightly smack his shoulder in a motherly way. He feigns hurt, mumbling, “rude.”

The rockstar calls the attention back to her, “It has come to my attention that you all have made plans to watch the live feed of Saturday’s ceremony. Well, I have some news I’d like to share….” She gestures for Pete, who brings over a literal silver tray with eight black and red envelopes neatly lined up. Each envelope had the pilots callsign in silver sparkly lettering.

“Was this your idea?” she muses at the silver tray, Pete and Rooster grinning like children who were presenting an art project.

“We thought it was fitting.”

“You two,” she sighs though there is amusement in her tone. “When I call your name please retrieve your present. But don’t open it till I say so.”

“What did you do?” Nat accuses when she’s the first to receive the envelope. Lightweight in her hands, she examines it closely while the others get theirs, but does not open it like instructed. Hondo is the last to get his, taking his place back between Javy and Mickey.

“Consider this your holiday present from Mav and I,” Y/n leans into her husband when his arm goes around her. “We both split the costs—though I insisted it all be on me since It was my idea,” she looks at him with a knowing look.

He just kisses her temple, “You know I wouldn’t have let you when you already do so much, honey,” Pete looks at his pilots, “But we hope you all like it and accept the offer.”

“If this is what I think it is,” Jake starts to say, catching onto what the couple were implying. Y/n’s little indication of the ceremony is what really had him suspect. “Then I’m going to scream.”

Nat quickly catches on, gasping, “I swear to God, y’all better not have.”

“Better not have what?” Bob innocently looks at the couple, who were both grinning wide. Y/n couldn’t take it any longer and allowed them to open the envelopes. Sure enough Jake screamed, but it was more of a dramatic one. With him were Mickey, Javy, Payback and even Bob was shouting. Nat immediately embraced Y/n in a hug while Hondo did the same to Mav. Before long the entire group was in a big dogpile with the pups getting in on the hype.

“You guys are unbelievable!” Nat shouted amongst the chaos, double checking the papers to see they were in fact what they were. It was a ticket to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony taking place that Saturday at the Microsoft Theater “Wh-what!? How!?”

“I’ve had them ready since July,” Y/n told her, laughing at Nat’s jaw dropped expression.

“Thank you so so much!” Nat hugs her again after the guys express their words of gratitude, “I don’t think we can thank you enough—I mean you’ve already done so much for us. Now this!? Honestly I don’t know how we’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t think about that,” Y/n assured, moving to the side when a play fight broke out between Mav, Rooster, and Jake with the dogs. “It makes me happy to do these things and that we get to share them together. You guys are our family now. Not just mine and Pete’s, but also the Romantics. And I would want nothing more than my whole family to be in attendance Saturday night.”

“It would be our honor,” Nat squeezes her hand, still in disbelief that she got to call the woman a friend and was privileged to experience things she never thought she could. When Saturday came Nat had to pinch herself. Sitting in the stands of Microsoft Theater with her best friends, dressed in a sparkly pantsuit and in absolute awe.

The squad was close to the stage but in the stands since the floor was where all the tables were. From their position, they could see Y/n and Pete with the Romantics and their managers. Front tables were basically reserved for the inductees. The year's inductee lineup was insane. Absolute icons: Duran Duran, Pat Benatar, Dolly Parton, Eurythmics, Lionel Richie, Eminem, Carly Simon, Judas Priest, Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, Harry Belafonte, Sylvia Robinson, Jimmy Lovine, Elizabeth Cotten, and Allen Grubman.

Those who had passed were to be honored by singers and the inductees present would perform. One by one the inductees were honored. Personal friends, fans, or colleagues gave speeches for the artist/group they were inducting. Dr. Dre inducted Eminem, Robert Downey Jr for Duran Duran. In between performances took place with the crowd on their feet and singing along to iconic songs that defined a generation.

Hearing Dolly Parton live was a moment they’d never forget. So many things could be crossed off their bucket list, including seeing Dolly Parton. Together they shouted the lyrics to ‘Sweet Dreams’ by Eurythmics at the top of their lungs, the guys rapping along with Eminem. Nat felt like a teenager again singing along to Pat Benatar’s ‘Love Is A Battlefield,’ & ‘Heartbreaker’. They rocked out to Judas Priest, Duran Duran, and Loionel Richie. Everyone was having a blast and then the moment they were all waiting for came.

To induct Y/n and The Romantics, the crowd screamed in joy when Ryan Reynolds approached the podium. At the table the band were in a heep of laughter already. It was fitting having the movie star induct them considering their songs were featured in the Deadpool movies and they made a cameo in Deadpool 2. Ryan was not only a big fan of the group but had become their friend.

“Hello, hello, greetings and salutations fellow rock n rollers,” he starts, the audience roaring around. Payback brought his thumbs up to whistle. “It’s an honor and privilege to be here tonight with you all, and it’s a mega blessing to be inducting this next group,” his attention lands on the Romantics, the cheers getting louder, “which is safe to say has been long overdue.”

“Damn right!” Rooster shouts, which actually catches Ryan’s attention, the movie star pointing in his direction with a curt nod.

“Now if you’re a child of the 70s like me and had your teenage years in the decade known for religious cults and a substance sharing the name with a popular soft drink,” he pauses at the laughter that rings out, coughing lightly before continuing, “then you should know who Y/n and The Romantics are.” Microsoft Theater rumbled with the reaction of the crowd. “If you don’t,” Ryan shrugs, “then you must be living under a fucking rock.”

The camera pans to the band, Y/n with a hand over her mouth covering the massive grin she had beneath. Her bandmates were just as joyous as they watched Ryan give his speech. “At just the ripe age of fourteen, these young cats hit the streets of Atlanta and sang tunes for all ears to hear. It was 1978. The Camp David Peace Accords was signed, the first IVF baby was born, NASA unveiled their first group of women astronauts, and Japanese explorer Naomi Uemura became the first to reach the North Pole. For a bunch of freshmen in high school, their lives changed when their rendition of ‘Cry Baby’ by Janis Joplin was heard by the right person passing by.” Ryan pauses once more to let the audience cheer, at the table Pete takes Y/n’s hand in his, giving it a loving squeeze.

“Though they released their first single on New Year’s Day of 1979, the new decade emerged with a new spice to rock music. It skyrocketed these kids to stardom with their unique sound and a frontwoman with a voice that sounded like an angel rebelled from God to become a rockstar,” Y/n smiled shyly when the camera panned to her, blowing a kiss before it went to her friends. “They were every rock n roll hater’s worst nightmare. With their leather and glitter, Y/n’s iconic split dye hair and swooning every person they met, the launch of MTV in 1981 made Y/n and The Romantics overnight sensations…. and the celebrity crushes of every young Hollywood heartthrob,” Ryan smirks, nodding with the hollars of the audience.

“The way people are when it comes to securing Taylor Swift and Beyoncé tickets, was the same for us trying to see The Romantics live back in the day. You can best believe seeing grown men and women cry when they were unable to get seats for the farewell tour. I think I even witnessed a fight break out in the ticket line.”

“Oh my God,” Y/n giggled, hiding her face in her hands. Glancing at her friends they had the same reaction: flustered.

“By 2002 The Romantics had sold over 150 million records worldwide and accumulated so many awards I can’t even list them all in this speech. I’ll just name a few: an Oscar for Best Original Song,” whistles and hollars sounded at his pause between each award, “twelve Grammy awards. Over a dozen in MTV Moonmen. Billboard’s Artist of the Year. The AMA Icon Award. Ranked number 15 on the Rolling Stone list of 100 Greatest Artists of All Time—cited as the greatest influence on rock music of the 20th century.”

Ryan adjusted his posture, “I can confidently say that when the news broke of their hiatus, hearts shattered across the planet—including mine,” he faked a voice crack, causing the audience to chuckle. “It felt like my parents were getting divorced—s-sorry,” he wiped away a fake tear, Y/n leaning over her chair in a heep of giggles. “It was an emotional time for me and fellow Romantics.”

“But though they were no longer releasing music their spotlight never dimmed. The members ventured out in other projects and started families. Fans might have recognized keyboardist Ronnie Jensen as Detective Josie Adams on Law & Order,” the camera panned to Ronnie, the woman throwing up a rock n roll gesture with her hand to the cheers. “If you look at the writing credits on some of the 2000s best hits for modern pop rock artists and groups, you may find the daughter of rock n roll's name at the top.” This time the camera went back to Y/n’s smiling face, the rockstar giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Oh and let’s not forget that if you watch any superhero or action movie you’ll hear ‘Thunderstruck’ on the soundtrack.” That had the crowd go wild. “And if you listen to ‘Highway to Hell’ while diving…nine times out of ten you will be pulled over for reckless speeding. Believe me, I would know.” Danny and Evan were capping their hands by how hard they were laughing, wiping away tears that brimmed in their eyes.

“Around this time two years ago we were at the height of a global pandemic. The world was shut down and there was little to hope for in those hard times. But one random day I found myself shitting my pants when the first thing I saw on twitter was The Romantics trending worldwide. I thought one of them had died honestly and was too scared to look as a panic attack arose until my lovely wife Blake slapped me and said, ‘they're getting the band back together you fool—stop crying and get it together.’ I then proceeded to faint for a different reason.” Ryan caught Y/n’s eye and he broke out into a laugh, forgetting what he was about to say next. “I-I fuck I’m sorry.” The audience laughed with him.

“T-their comeback album ‘In Rock We Trust,’ hit the the top of the Billboard hot 100 within minutes of release—going platinum in just a week. Their debut single, the title track, remained number one on iTunes for eight weeks straight and every radio station lost their minds. It’s no surprise they took home the Grammy once again for ‘Best Rock Album’ and ‘Record of The Year.’ And now 43 years after the release of their first single, they have finally earned their spot in the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame.”

As the audience screamed the lights dimmed on the stage so the video montage could play for all eyes in the theater. Those viewing at home would get a full screen picture of the video while those in attendance all shot their eyes to the Jumbotron. Down below, stage crew motioned for The Romantics to get ready for their performance that would happen once the video was over. Y/n kissed Pete, the man telling her good luck as the band did the same to their loved ones before they all followed the stage crew to their positions.

The video montage consisted of clips starting from the Romantics first starting out at just 14 and 15 years of age all the way to present day. Watching them go from shy kids to rockstars selling out stadiums and racking up award after award. Some clips were of their music videos, others were celebrities gushing over the band, including Cameron Diaz and Ralph Macchio. “I love them so much,” a young Cindy Crawford said, blushing when she added, “I just wanna party with them and have a good time.”

“They are the band of our generation,” praised Molly Ringwald on the red carpet of the 1988 VMAs. “Seeing them perform tonight is gonna be the highlight of my life.”

Their songs played over the video showing a montage of the band's most iconic performances. One of which was the 1992 Billboard Music Awards where it was raining outside and they still performed. Y/n was completely soaked with her makeup smearing down her cheeks and hair in disarray, not to mention she was wearing a white tank top with no bra and leather pants. It made headlines with people and the media trying to degrade the rockstar. A clip with Diane Sawyer trying to humiliate Y/n played, showing the woman smirk as she shrugged and said, “why were your eyes there the whole time, Diane? Did I make you look at my chest? No, you and everyone else did that on your own.” The clip immediately cut to the Super Bowl Halftime show, regarded as one of the best performances of all time.

When the video ended, the spotlight shined back on Ryan and the cheers grew louder, “It is my honor to induct your Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame Class of 2022 members, ladies and gentleman gave it up for Y/n and The Romantics!!” Evan’s opening riff sent the crowd wild, everyone on the floor to their feet and the daggers whistling against the noise. Strutting up to the front of the stage, Y/n brought the microphone up to her lips and sang her heart, “Hey yeeeeahhhh, are you ready?” She smiled and winked at Pete.

“We be a guitar band. We play across the land. Shootin’ out tonight, gonna keep you up alright.”

”You hear the guitar sound, playin’ nice and loud. Rock you to your knees, gonna make your destiny.”

“In rock we trust, it’s rock or bust,” she belts the chorus, the audience singing with her. It was their first single back as a band, one that dominated the radio for weeks on end. The theater echoed with the final line of the chorus, “In rock n roll we trust, it’s rock or bust!”

After the song ended they immediately went into the opening of ‘Highway to Hell,’ which had the entire theater in a frenzy. “Livin’ easy, lovin’ free. Season ticket on a one way ride. Askin’ nothin’, leave me be. Takin’ everythin’ in my stride.” Pink was head banging, so was LL Cool J. Duran Duran were dancing with Y/n pointing at them before going over to the side of the stage where her ducklings were going crazy. “Don’t need reason. Don’t need rhyme. Ain’t nothin’ that I’d rather do. Goin’ down, party time. My friends are gonna be there too,” she shook her shoulders with each pound of Danny’s drums.

“I’m on the highway to hell!” Everyone screamed/sang. “On the highway to hell,” Y/n shook her head side to side. “Highway to hell.” Rooster whistled on the last line, “I’m on the highway to hell.”

“Y/n, you’re an icon!” Jake shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands. She must’ve heard him cause she laughed into the second verse.

The rest of the ceremony the energy was off the charts. The Romantics shared the stage with Duran Duran, singing their 1988 collab which had jaws drop and in absolute hysteria. All the inductees gathered at the end of the ceremony, all now official members of the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. It was truly a sight to behold.

The holidays passed with more celebrations. Before long the band were releasing more songs and an album at the end of the summer. By 2024 they were back on tour and this time the daggers would attend shows without telling Y/n to surprise her. They had really become a family in just the two years they’d known each other.

“Oh this is a great song,” Jake practically moaned at the opening chord of Kenny Loggins’ Danger Zone. He and the daggers were on the floor of the Staples Center, Y/n had spotted them not too long into the show and forgot her own lyrics cause she was so excited, “My ducklings are here! Ooh this next song is dedicated to them.”

Pulling on some aviator sunglasses to go with her camo pants and combat boots, Y/n shrugged on her husband's bomber jacket, “Revvin’ up your engine. Listen to her howlin’ roar,” she pointed a finger and drifted from side to side, “Metal under tension. Beggin’ you to touch and go.”

“Highway to the Danger Zone. Ride into the Danger Zone.” She shimmied her shoulders, “C’mon let me hear you!”

“Headin’ into twilight. Spreadin’ out her wings tonight. She got you jumpin’ off the deck. And shovin’ into overdrive. Sing it!”

“Highway to the Danger Zone. I’ll take you right into the Danger Zone.”

At the end of the song Y/n took the jacket off and threw it back over the railing to Pete, the man catching it in his hands, “Thanks for letting me borrow that, baby.”

That night of the show was just a few days before Y/n’s 60th birthday. She couldn’t help but awe when Pete and the squad came out with the band's families, their managers and crew with a small cake and balloons to sing ‘Happy Birthday.’

“You guys,” she wiped a tear away after blowing out the candles. Kissing Pete on the lips, she welcomed his hug and heard him say into her ear over the noise, “Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much—more than my P-51.” She threw her head back as she laughed, kissing him again before saying, “I find that hard to believe, Maverick,” she teased, kissing his cheek, “But thank you for this. You’re everything a woman could ask for.”

“Happy birthday, Y/n!” Rooster blows into the noise maker, placing a party hat on her head. The squad swarm around the couple, the confetti blasting into the crowd.

The moment felt like a full circle. Just two years prior Pete’s 60th birthday brought them all together. Now here they were celebrating her 60th, on stage with her friends, family, and fans. She really had it all.

But not to worry. There were sure going to be more memories and adventures of the rockstar, her husband, and their dagger ducklings.

………………..

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @phoenixssugarbaby @gizmodear

#Spotify #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell imagine #pete mitchell x y/n #captain pete mitchell #dagger squad #dagger squad x reader #dagger squad imagine #Maverick x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #rockstar!reader

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thedroneranger · 10 months

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The Drone Ranger's Be Kind Rewind ⏪ indynerdgirl Edition!

A rec reblog series dedicated to the fics that we love so much, we've re-read them!

@indynerdgirl's Rewind is here! I'll be taking a few recs off the list, and I hope you will, too!

While we continue to churn out amazing new content, let's be kind and rewind to look at some of the OG content we love! And don't forget to reblog when you re-read! Continue to show your comfort fics and favorite creators some love. It helps keep the fresh content coming :)

Let's keep this going throughout the summer, so if you're interested in participating in the Be Kind Rewind, message me. The more, the merrier!

If you want to know when a new Rewind drops, join the tag list, and check out previous Rewinds!

fics below the cut (listed in alphabetical order by title)

Flyboy, Jake Seresin, @kryptonitejelly This friends to lovers fic is just *chef’s kiss*. Jake is just so swoon worthy in this fic that everytime I reread it, I get just a little bit upset that he’s not real.

From The Ashes, Jake Seresin x Natasha Trace, @myshipsaresunk This Hannix rock star au will put you through the emotional ringer but it will be so worth it! I was lucky enough to beta read this one as it was being written and the endings of some of the chapters had me literally shouting at my computer screen due to some of the characters’ life choices.

Je te Laisserai Des Mots, Bradley Bradshaw, @jupitercomet This is an arranged marriage au but it’s also what I would call a period piece au. The writer says she was heavily inspired by Greta Gerwig’s Little Women but it also gives off some regency era vibes as well. Whatever era it’s supposed to be, this fic is another one that I wish never ended because I would love to stay in the world forever.

Mamma Mia, Bob Floyd/Jake Seresin/Bradley Bradshaw, @perpetuelledaydreaming Take the plot of Mamma Mia, set it in the world of Top Gun, and you have this absolutely amazing fic! And I love how it’s tied into TGM by having the reader run into all three of them again when they’re back at Top Gun for the special detachment.

My Girl, Jake Seresin, @ereardon This fic just hits all of the right spots for me when it comes to the single dad trope. And it’s also one of those fics that I wish just never ended because I just adore this little family.

Oh, Baby, Jake Seresin, @seresinhangmanjake This is the first in a super sweet series and the emotions that come through this one had me tearing up a few times the first time I read it.

Sugar and Spice, Jake Seresin, @wombtotombx This is a fantastic fic and the way SB describes things makes you feel like you’re right there in the fic with the characters. And with how knowledgeable she is when it comes to all things Navy, there are a ton of little things in this fic that just give it that extra touch. She also has a really fantastic dad!Jake series that I highly recommend!

That's a Problem?, Bradley Bradshaw, @archivallyfound09 Another super sweet fic that does the single parent trope well! Bug and his love of his ‘Ooster and Dino snacks will absolutely melt your heart!

the echo (or the answer), Jake Seresin, @anniesocsandgeneralstore I still can’t believe that I almost skipped over this werewolf au when if first showed up on my dash but I am so glad I decided to give it a go. It quickly became one of my favorites and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it.

The Princess and The Pilot, Jake Seresin, @perfectprettypisces I am a sucker for a good ‘dating the admiral’s daughter’ fic, especially when said daughter is the only girl with over protective brothers and this one ticks both of those boxes! And the sibling dynamics in this are top notch and very believable!

Creator's Own I Heard From The Heavens, Bradley Bradshaw Not only was this the very first Top Gun fic I ever wrote, but it was the first fic I had written in six years when I posted it last year. It’s also very personal to me. One of my younger brothers is a fighter pilot in the Air Force and while I am incredibly proud of him, I still can’t help but worry about him as an older sister is wont to do so this fic was me channeling those worries and fears I sometimes have in regards to my brother.

Tag list and friends: @petcr3 @desert-fern @Sagittarius-Lovewitch @mygyn @sweetwhispersofchaos @horseshoegirl @the-annoying-fan @dingochef @moon42flight @thecitysgraveyard @ereardon @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner

A kind reminder, this is a 18+ blog. While not all stories in the recommendation list are 18+, please respect boundaries and do not interact unless you are 18 years of age or older.

#tgm be kind rewind #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob fucks #indynerdgirl

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witchwyfe · 2 years

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can i go where you go? | brb

I pairing: bradley (rooster) bradshaw x female reader

I précis: u & bradley attend a wedding together!

I content/warnings: cursing, mention of sex,

I word count: 1,300

The last time you had attended a wedding, you had been young enough to stand on your dad’s shoes while he danced you around.

So, when you and Bradley were asked to be in the wedding, by friends of yours, you were ecstatic.

You had met Kelly in college, when the two of you rushed the same sorority. You and she got along well, right from the start, and were even roommates at the house.

Bradley and Michael met in the academy, and a weekend trip to your college town is how they, simultaneously met you and Kelly.

Kelly is still one of your best friends and she would’ve chosen you for her maid of honor, but her overbearing, older sister took precedent over you. Bradley wasn’t Michael’s best man either, because Michael had promised his little brother, he would get that honor since they were kids.

Nevertheless, you were excited to watch your friends tie the knot, and even get to be part of the process.

As much as you love your friend, you were not on the same page when it came to the bridesmaid dresses. She had been partially swayed by her sister—Ashley—wanting to just put an end to her incessant “suggestions.”

And that’s how you ended up in a dress shop, clad in a pink puffy gown. Kelly bites back her laughter, watching you try to hide your grimace.

If Kelly chose the color, she let her sister take charge on the style. And in your opinion—and all the other bridesmaids—it’s ugly. Way too puffy and poufy, and ribbon clad.

You take a photo in the full-length mirror, not even hiding your frown.

“It’s so ugly!” You whine, dropping your head against Bradley’s chest.

“No, it’s not.” He says, taking your phone from your hand to look at the dress again.

“Don’t fucking lie to me bub.” You groan, words muffled in his shirt.

“The dress isn’t…the best.” He chooses his words carefully. “But you make everything look good, baby.”

“Shut up.” You grumble again, although now you stretch your arms around his torso. “You look so good in your suit, you’re gonna be embarrassed to be seen with me.”

He laughs at your dramatics, squeezing you quickly. “I’m never embarrassed to be seen with you darlin’. If you can put up with me all the time, I think I can handle a puffy dress.”

“You’re so good.” You whine, sounding pathetic and beggy. “Love you.”

“Love you more. Let’s take a nap, see if we can’t get you feelin’ better.”

“I didn’t even know a pre-rehearsal dinner was a thing.” You whisper to Kelly, watching her bite back a snicker.

“Ashley’s idea.” She supplies.

“Hey everyone!” Ashley speaks up, gaining the attention of all the bridesmaids and groomsmen.

“I have an idea.” She says a smirk dancing on her lips. “I’m thinking we switch the best man and Bradley.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, head whipping around to look over.

“Why would we do that Ash?” Kelly wonders. “We’ve paired everyone up and rehearsed it that way.”

“Well, it’s just, Bradley is taller than Brady—no offense—and I think he would look better standing next to me.”

Bradley is watching you, the tiniest pout tracing his lips.

Your jaw is clenched uncomfortably tight, eyes sharp as you watch Ashley shamelessly ogle Bradley.

“Ashley, everything looks fine weren’t not changing anything.” Kelly sighs. “We’re done for the day guys, go ahead and relax.”

You down the rest of your champagne before stalking out of the room. Bradley meets you at the door of your hotel room, sliding a hand down your back, lips at the back of your head.

You unlock the door, pushing in, kicking off your heels, and flopping onto the plush mattress.

A loud groan escapes your mouth, shoulders dropping from the force of it.

“Tell me how you really feel baby,” Bradley jokes, the sides of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

“Shut up. She likes you.” You huff.

“And you love me.” He soothes, sitting down beside your slumped stature on the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Sweetheart,” He raises an eyebrow. “You’re absolutely allowed to be upset but. This isn’t the type of thing that would usually bother you.”

“I’m just tired. And I don’t like Ashley.”

He laughs loudly, eliciting an eyeroll from you.

“I’m serious! First, she makes us wear those awful dresses, and now she’s trying to steal my man.” You sigh defeatedly.

“Don’t worry baby, no one’s gonna be takin’ your man.”

“Damn right.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

You tap your index finger on your chin, pretending to think about it. “I think we need to have sex. Then cuddle for at least two hours.”

“For you? I can make that happen, honey.”

While the old rule is, no bride and groom seeing each other before the ceremony, Kelly extended that rule to all the bridal party and groomsmen.

So, when Bradley peeps his head into the room you’ve all commandeered to get ready in—he earns a few dirty looks.

“What are you doing here babe?” You hiss, getting up from the couch you were settled in. Bradley can’t help but stare, you’re gorgeous in one of his button-downs, makeup-free and already glowing. “You better not let Kelly see you.”

You usher him out into the hallway after a quick glance behind you. Kelly’s getting her makeup done and should be occupied for at least another five minutes.

“Just wanted to see you before everything.” He grins. “You’re wearin’ my shirt?”

“Found it in your suitcase. You wore it to the rehearsal dinner, so I know you weren’t gonna wear it today.”

“Looks tons better on you though.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Quit trying to sweet-talk me. You’re going to get both of us in trouble.”

He shuts you up with a kiss, pulling away with a grin rivaling the chesire cat. “You look so good right now baby.”

You feel heat rising on your face, a bashful smile dancing on your lips. “Take it in now, I’m going to have to put that god-awful dress on soon.”

“And you’re still going to be as pretty as you always are darlin’.”

“You’re sweet. I love you.” You smile, reaching up to peck his lips. “Now get out of here, Kelly’s going to come looking for me soon.”

“Yes ma’am.” He leans down for one more kiss and you let him, groaning when he pulls away too soon.

“See you at the ceremony, gorgeous.”

“You know something?”

You’re dancing with Bradley now, cheek on his chest while he expertly leads and spins you around. The reception is winding down, and the day’s events are finally hitting you, especially now that you’re being held up by your warm boyfriend.

“What’s that?”

“Seeing you in this dress makes me wanna marry you.”

You pull back, amused. “If this dress makes you think about marrying me, you’ve got issues.”

He lightly swats at your shoulder, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not the specific dress itself dummy, just you in a dress, makes me think about what’d you’d look like in a white one.”

“You’ve seen me in a white one. Remember that sundress from our trip to Hawaii?”

He throws his head back and groans, all while still waltzing you across the floor. “You know what I mean!” He whines, exasperated.

“Do I? I think you might have to spell it out for me, lieutenant.”

He squeezes your waist at the honorific, pink suffusing on his cheeks. “I want us to get married.”

“That’s nice baby.” You tease, staring up at him, feigning innocence.

“And how does that sound to you?”

You shrug. “Could be nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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