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kyber-crystal · 4 months

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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw

summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO

a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)

I. meet me in the middle

“Mav!”

You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”

“The pretty one,” Rooster stated.

“Be more specific.”

“I am being specific, Captain.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Fine, I need your daughter.”

“You always need her for something.”

“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”

“Actually, I’m hungry.”

“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”

“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”

“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”

You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait.

It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.

“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out.

“And?”

“You can sit over there.”

“I don’t want to, though.”

“Alright, then.”

You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)

Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you.

There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas.

The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair. Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.

But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch.

But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.

“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”

“Thanks…”

He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat.

“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”

This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”

II. waiting on you

As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality.

“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”

Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough.

Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be.

“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“No.”

“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”

You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours.

Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”

“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.

“Ah. Makes sense.”

“So, we need to do something about it.”

“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”

“You’re so right, man.”

III. rose-tinted glasses

“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.

“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight.

“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.

“Where?”

“I’m looking right at her.”

“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”

“No, you’re even better.”

You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light.

“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”

Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat.

“Wow…it sure is.”

He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before.

Everything seems to fall into place.

IV. for you, i’d cross the line

“Y/N, hey.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”

You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance.

You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life.

The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing.

“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”

“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”

“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness.

It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine.

You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.

Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours.

V. saving grace

You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”

“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”

“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”

“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”

“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)

He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”

Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”

That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you.

“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.”

You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together.

You’re never letting go, and neither is he.

epilogue—soul ties

“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”

His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear.

He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady.

“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”

“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”

You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else.

“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”

Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness.

—

10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you.

“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered.

You shake your head.

“Come on. It’s been all day.”

“No.”

“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”

“No,” you muttered bitterly.

“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.”

“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.”

“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”

“What,” you exhaled.

"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."

Your heart stops.

Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall.

You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips.

This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.

“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”

You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”

You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open.

“Sweetheart…”

“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”

“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I waited ten hours.”

“You should’ve gone home and slept.”

Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”

He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”

Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.

As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest.

When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done.

And you were most certainly right about that now.

“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”

Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”

Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other.

“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”

He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.

He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again.

I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself.

And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate.

tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi

(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)

#top gun #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick fic #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you

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katsu28 · 1 month

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for you i'd wait forever

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)

warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!

a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx

Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today.

And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.

For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.

That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks.

He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with.

Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you.

He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like.

You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.

Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose.

With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later.

That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out.

“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him.

He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten.

Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought.

Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—”

“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.”

“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!”

“Is it okay if we talk first?”

If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs.

“Is everything okay?”

Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words.

“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.”

Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—”

“I think we should break up.” He blurted.

You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?”

“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you.

The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside.

“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features.

“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.”

You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?”

They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me.

If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months.

“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.”

“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Y/N, I—”

You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face.

Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be.

But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth.

All because of him.

-------

Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one.

His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him.

He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him.

“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better.

“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here.

“I promised you I would.”

“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship.

“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise.

His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.”

He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.”

“Humor me, Bradshaw.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.”

His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever.

How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it.

“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.”

Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“Who usually taps you out?”

Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today.

He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.”

“I wanna do it.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.”

“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.”

“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.”

Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him.

The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did.

He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.

He was home. You were his home.

“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.”

Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one.

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—”

“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.”

“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.”

“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.”

He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.”

“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.”

“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.”

“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady.

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.”

“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”

“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.”

“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.”

“From now on? Does that mean…?”

“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it.

Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time.

He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.”

“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back.

Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—”

Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—”

“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake.

“Hangman. Shut. Up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!”

“You’re the only one talking!”

“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.”

You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years.

It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again.

His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.

And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot.

“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.

You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of.

But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?”

“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.”

“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.”

“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?”

You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm.

“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.”

“I didn’t.”

“So you do?”

“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.”

His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!”

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thewulf · 3 months

Text

It Matters || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was thinking of a jake x reader fic, were the reader believes her opinion doesn't matter because thats all she heard her entire childhood and once jake realizes that or she tells him he starts asking for her opinion, encouraging her to talk more and goes out his way to ask her stuff he already knows.

A/N: Shorty but a goodie. Thank you for the request!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word Count: 1,400k +

Jake stopped pushing the cart in front of him looking over the options the store had provided. When he couldn’t decide he turned to you who stood behind him waiting, “What do you think darlin’?” He asked hoping to bring you out of your thoughts you seemed to be stuck in.

You shook your head, “I don’t mind. You can pick what you want.” You gave him a reassuring smile as he looked over the boxed macaroni and cheese choices. He’d noticed it quickly but never said much about your aversion to deciding. It’s not that you couldn’t it’s that you were almost afraid to make the decision. Were you worried about making the wrong one? Were you afraid he’d be upset? Whatever it was he decided he needed to help. He didn’t want to press you but he wanted to see if he could try. So, if you couldn’t make a big decision he’d help you make smaller ones.

You watched as he grabbed two boxes before walking over to you, “I can’t decide. What do you think darlin’? White or sharp cheddar?” He held them up for you to take a look.

You shrugged, “I really don’t mind Jake.”

He smiled a touch, “But you have a preference, I know you do.”

“So do you.” You raised your eyebrows as if to challenge him. One of the things he’d quickly fallen for about you. As much as he loved how damn stubborn you were he didn’t enjoy when he was on the receiving end.

He shook his head, “Afraid I don’t sweetheart. Going to need you to decide. My brain’s fried. Mav’s got us doing all kinds of crazy shit in training.”

Your eyes lowered at him, “If I must. Let’s do the white cheddar.”

He smiled really big at that, “Now that wasn’t so hard was it darlin’?” His smirk that drove you mad, in a good way of course, came out.

“No.” You rolled your eyes before meeting his stride. Jake decided not to push any further at the store casually trying to get your opinion on things when he saw an opening. He adored everything about you and only wanted the best.

When it came time to settle in for the night you joined Jake on the couch. He scrolled through the endless catalogue of Netflix shows that seemed to going and going. He pulled you to his side right as you sat down on the couch wanting you by his side.

“Any show you want to start?” He asked without much thought. When you tensed up in his arms he knew there was something so much more than what you were letting on. Maybe it wasn’t his place to push but he truly just wanted to help.

You shook your head quickly, “Oh no, you can put on whatever you’d like.” You were watching the television and not him, so you didn’t notice the saddened look he was giving you. When the channel didn’t change for a moment to long you looked up to him.

“Why do you do that?” He asked with that same look.

Genuinely confused you just looked at him, “Do what?”

He gave you a tight squeeze knowing what he was about to do, pry into a part of your life you kept hidden for one reason or another, “You always deflect darlin’.” Short and sweet and to the point.

You creased your eyebrows in wonder, did you? You thought back on the last three months of dating him and you did exactly that. Had you always done that? You sat there in bemusement of your own account before you felt Jake’s gentle squeeze on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or press you sweetheart. I just want to make sure you are alright?” It came out more of a question.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I guess I never really realized.” You bit down on your cheek processing his words. It dawned on you just how often you did this with everybody and everything. You were passive. Allowed people to walk all over you. It’s not like you had an awful childhood either, no, not in the slightest. You were just one of six children. Fourth in line and the third daughter. You were a joy but nothing more, nothing less. You weren’t special. You didn’t stand out from any of your brothers or sisters. You got average grades and did well in a few sports you ended up dropping out of. You were just kind of there. A secondary character in everybody’s lives.

It happened over time. You never had you opinion be known. You learned from an early age it was best to just sit down and shut the hell up. That way your mother wouldn’t tell you to shush, and your father wouldn’t throw an angry glare in your direction. It wasn’t just you they did this too. No, your entire family felt the ire of your parents desire. They wanted you to look the part of the happy little perfect family for all the pretentious faces of your city to see. That’s why you didn’t think anything of it. Your brothers and sisters were treated the same way. You weren’t really allowed to have an opinion on things. The concept felt eerily foreign to you.

To make matters worse you followed your father’s footsteps right into the military. The second you turned eighteen you enlisted in the Navy. You weren’t really allowed to have an opinion in this line of work too. It was best to do as you did before, sit down and shut up. Take the orders, do the job, and move on. That’s what you were good at. It’s like your father had trained you from a young age to act a certain way. But the curse turned to a blessing once you met Jake in flight school. You’d been fast friends for a long two years before he decided to make a move on you after the mission at Top Gun. He realized life was short and took the leap. And you were sure glad he did. You’d loved him from the moment you met him. You’d take him as friend or a lover. And you were rather thankful it was the former.

“Really?” He asked pressing his luck just a little further.

You nodded, “My father is military too. We were raised a certain way… very strict. We weren’t exactly allowed to voice our thoughts.” Not elaborating any further you tore your eyes away feeling a flush of embarrassment rip right on through you.

“You know that’s not right? It’s okay to have an opinion. I want you to have opinions! I want to make you happy.” You felt him wrap his arm around you waist giving it a gentle squeeze for some form of comfort.

“I just didn’t think it mattered. My voice never mattered.” You whispered feeling awfully vulnerable as his eyes bore into your side.

He answered quickly, “It matters. Darlin’ your voice matters so much, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, “I can’t… I can’t guarantee I’ll be perfect though Jake. I’ve never had a say. It’s always been told to me. I’m so sorry.”

He grabbed your chin and gently lifted it to look at him. It was agonizing to watch the inner turmoil from your head play out in front of him, “Please don’t apologize. I understand. And if I don’t I’ll try too. I want you to know how much I love you darlin’. I care about what you think. I want to get and do things that make you happy too.”

Your eyes went wide just as his did, “You love me?” He’d never said it out loud before, but he’d loved you for a long time, long before you’d been dating.

“I do.” He nodded knowing he wasn’t going to back out of it. He’d refrained from saying it so he wouldn’t scare you away really. He would’ve told you the night of your first date had he known you wouldn’t have run away. But he knew you. Knew how timid you could be about relationships and feelings. He’d watch you from afar as you tiptoed around these kinds of things in the past.

“That’s good.” You nodded not letting your eyes break from his.

You felt a rumble from his chest and heard a laugh bubble up, “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You grinned.

“And why’s that?” He pressed as his lips inched closer to yours.

“Because I love you too.” It was almost silent as closed the distance between the two of you. The kiss was different. A little more passionate. Filled with a touch more understanding. He smiled when he pulled back studying your sweet face. He’d successfully knocked another block down from the wall that was slowly crumbling down at his efforts.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

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honeysimagines · 2 years

Text

home

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

plot: at a get together after the mission the dagger squad finds out some things about Rooster, causing Maverick to step up and try and help…

warnings: drinking, references to parental death and past trauma

notes: for K ♡︎, thank you for letting me bother you with this for weeks

words: 7k

It was a bittersweet evening at The Hard Deck but they tried to not let it show. After the successful mission it was time to dismantle their little ragtag group of pilots and for everybody to head back to their former assignments. Sadly Fritz had to fly out in the early afternoon but the rest of the pilots and backseaters had descended upon the bar and shuffled some tables around with Penny’s permission to make a large circle where everybody found a place for at least the next few hours.

It felt good to be back on solid ground. While being in the air was one of the best feelings in Rooster’s mind he was glad to be off the ship again. With the old jukebox playing music and the patrons of the bar talking and laughing together it was a little easier to forget about the events that happened just a few days prior.

“You guys are lucky,” Harvard pointed out after everybody except Bob was a few drinks in, “at least you guys get a few weeks leave.” The other aviators knew it wasn’t coming from a place of malice, had they been in the place of the aviators that didn’t fly the mission they’d probably think exactly the same way. Everybody craved the comfort of home while deployed.

“Yeah,” Omaha added, “Leave would be nice. I wish I could head home, see family. My sister had a baby months ago, never even met the kid and he’s already crawling.”

“Maybe Mav can put in a nice word with the commander. Make it so everybody can go home faster.” Rooster said after taking a drink of his beer, “Although with him there’s always a chance we’d end up shipped out overseas for a few months.”

A few nods and words of agreement greeted Maverick as he made his way back to the group after not so sneakily disappearing to the back of the bar with Penny earlier. At least he was smart enough to get a new beer so he could play it off as just getting another drink, even if none of the other aviators bought it. “What are we talking about?”

“Leave.”

The older man just took his place among his now former students, looking around. “That’s nice. What are everybody’s plans?”

Most of the others just answered with the basics. Going to see family, spending some time with their loved ones. Hangman wanted to use his time for a vacation and Rooster didn’t doubt that in a week there’d be pictures of Hangman’s abs at a beautiful tropical beach all over social media. At least that gave him time to prepare a witty joke he could send in the groupchat to roast the blond.

Realizing he was the only one of the lucky ones that hadn’t shared his plans, Rooster took another drink of his beer, finishing the bottle before putting it down on the table in front of him. “Don’t know yet. Probably going to spend some time catching up with Mav and after that head home to see the missus.”

Several heads whipped around to look at him with a speed that put fighter jets to shame. Rooster was sure he saw poor Bob get whipped in the face by Phoenix’ ponytail hard enough for his glasses to become crooked on his face.

“The what now?!” Multiple voices said loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons but the group skillfully avoided paying attention to them.

Hangman let out a fake cough to hide his reaction but he couldn’t hide the curiosity in his voice as he spoke. “Didn’t know you were married, Rooster.”

“Congrats.” Mavericks' voice tore him out of his thoughts about how Hangman had no reason to know his relationship status. His godfather looked at him with a certain sadness in his eyes that made Rooster mad for a split second before he reminded himself that they were working on mending their relationship and a missed wedding might have been another thing to add to the list of life events they didn’t share like they should have.

“I’m not married.” He paused, trying to find the right words to describe what the two of you were. “It’s an… inside joke with an old friend.”

“Oh that’s-”

“I thought about asking her once but… yeah no I’m not married.” He rambled on, unable to stop himself, almost forgetting about his fellow pilots as he looked at Maverick and the way his eyebrows knit up in confusion.

The rest of the group just looked at him before Halo slapped her knees before standing up, signaling she was ready to leave.

“And that’s our cue. Come on boys, let’s give the Daggers some privacy. You coming with, Coyote?”

“Nah, I’m Hangman’s ride. Can’t leave him with the bunch. He’d just say something to piss them off and they’d leave him here.”

It wasn’t a tearful goodbye but hugs and handshakes were exchanged alongside promises to stay in touch. But almost as soon as Halo led Omaha, Yale, and Harvard away from the table all heads turned to Rooster again. Great.

“Alright, spill!” Phoenix ordered. Bob behind her enthusiastically nodded his head to back his pilot up.

“Guys, maybe that’s not-”

“Ignore Maverick. Spill Rooster!” Hangman interrupted.

Sighing he looked at his empty beer on the table in front of him and wished he had a full one in its place. Or maybe a tall soft drink glass full of whiskey neat.

“Here.” Mav pushed over the beer he picked up earlier, opened but still full.

“There’s not much to talk about.” He tried to defend himself. “She’s a friend. A good friend.”

That wasn’t enough to satisfy the lot in front of him though. Phoenix was motioning for him to continue and part of him wished it was just her he was talking too. She had always been a good friend. A good person to talk to when he had the need to talk. Even if they rarely had the chance to just sit down and chat due to the nature of their work.

“Lives in the old house.” He continued in a low voice, hearing his godfather inhale sharply next to him.

“I wasn’t ready to let it go but I- I couldn’t stay there. Not alone. Not after mom died. So when I left and she needed a place to stay I told her she could have it. Tried to pay me rent for years but I don’t take it. If she didn’t stay there it would be empty anyways so why waste a perfectly good house, you know. I go back every few months and she keeps my shit around.”

He just focused on the bottle in front of him, thumbing away at the label as the stares of his friends bore holes into him.

“That’s….nice.” The hesitant tone alone voided the words, he didn’t need to see the unsure face on top of it. He didn’t even want to imagine what the group was thinking of him at that moment. Revealing his tragic backstory in the middle of a bar.

“It’s not really home but it’s… it’s a homebase. Someplace to retreat to in case I’m back stateside.”

“And how long has this been going on?” Bob asked from behind Phoenix, confused, and Rooster was suddenly reminded of the years he had on them. Years because Mav held him back.

Years because he tried to protect you - a soft voice that sounded too much like his mother reminded him in the back of his head.

“Fifteen years? Give or take.” He mumbled.

“And how long have you been fucking her?” Three arms reached across the table to swat at Hangman for his question, Phoenix getting him in the arm hard enough for him to wince loudy.

“Fifteen years. Give or take.”

The only thing preventing an awkward moment of silence falling over the group was the fact that Fanboy choked on his beer hard enough that for the next few moments all the attention went to him, their group making sure that the WSO didn’t die. It didn’t prevent an awkward pause that followed after though. It was heavy, only interrupted by muffled coughing.

“Wasn’t expecting that to be completely honest.” Hangman said after everybody had mostly calmed down. When Rooster looked over to him he saw that the usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found on Hangman’s face and for the first time in his life he wished the other man would make fun of him. Look at him with something more than blank surprise or maybe thinly veiled pity.

“Fifteen years is a pretty long relationship to have, Rooster. Even if you’re not married, that's still impressive.” Coyote tried to be uplifting, smiling at him across the table.

“We’re not dating either. Told you she’s just a friend.”

“But you’re fucking?” Hangman asked.

“Whenever I go back. Unless she’s in a relationship at the time which hasn’t really happened yet because she doesn’t really date but most of the time, yeah.”

Across the table Payback raised his beer to him before taking a sip. “I mean… friends with benefits isn’t bad. Me and my wife started out as fuckbuddies before I grew the balls to ask her out for real.”

A few of the guys around the table nodded in agreement while Phoenix rolled her eyes hard enough that Rooster was worried they’d get stuck, but nobody added on to what Payback said.

Another few moments of silence followed before Bob spoke up, all eyes on the quiet WSO. “So let me get this straight. You and this woman have been on again off again fuckbuddies for the past fifteen years. She lives in your house. You nearly asked her to marry you….. and you still insist that she is just a friend?”

It came out rather harsh and nobody really knew how to react, least of all Rooster. Nodding, he took another drink of his beer, breaking eye contact with Bob.

Pushing his chair back from the table Bob moved to get up from their table. “Jesus fuck I need a drink.”

“Bob, you don’t drink.” Phoenix pushed her chair back too, quick to back up her backseater.

“I’m starting now.”

Six pairs of eyes watched as the two walked over to the bar but the men soon found themselves returning their attention back to the conversation.

“That’s a long time to pine over somebody, Rooster.” Fanboy chimed in, the pilots around the table nodding in agreement.

Before he could defend himself that he wasn’t pining, Hangman decided to speak up again.

“Jesus dude I know you like to wait things out but that’s long even for you.” Putting his arm around his shoulder he continued, “Gonna make your move when you get back? You’re a hero now Rooster, that gets the girls hot. No way she’ll say no.”

Without looking at the other man Rooster just shook off his arm, not taking his eyes off the bottle in front of him. Half the label was missing at this point but scratching at it kept his hands busy at least. “She’s just a friend, Bagman. Just a friend.”

Before any of the others could comment on it, Bob and Phoenix made their way back over to the group, letting themselves fall into the seats they had abandoned before. Their little comeback thankfully drew the attention to them and off Rooster, something he really appreciated. Judging by the way Bob was looking, his first drink didn’t go over all that smoothly.

“How’d he do Phoenix?” Mav teased.

“Went straight for the tequila. I tried to tell him he should start out with a beer but noooo.” She drew out the vowel, interrupted herself with a short giggle, before continuing, “Doubleshot of the cheapest tequila Penny had, didn’t even pull a face.” Phoenix bragged while giving Bob an encouraging pat on the back as he kept quiet. She turned to Hangman, sizing him up before adding. “You can ask Penny if you don’t believe me, Bagman.”

“Nah screw that.” Hangman replied, jumping up in his seat and leaning across the table to get closer to Bob, and Rooster was glad that they seemed to have found a new topic to latch onto. “First time and he went straight for the kill. Atta boy Bobby. Mister B.O.B.”

Most people around the table joined in with Hangman who continued to go on and on like usual while Rooster just went back to focusing on the bottle in front of him. He continued to thumb at the label, using the nail to push the paper back little by little. Almost everybody had stopped paying attention to him but he could feel Maverick’s gaze burn into the side of his head. He just hoped the older man would let it go.

Maverick did not let it go.

Two days after the night at The Hard Deck he was pounding on the door of Rooster’s room until he had no other choice but to roll out of bed. Stumbling his way to the door with half closed eyes he cursed as he walked straight into a table, a hand coming up to rub over his thigh while the other one pulled open his front door.

“What?” The words came out harder than he intended but the other man didn’t react, instead pushing past him into the room.

“Great, you’re up. Come on get dressed, we need to leave soon.”

“It’s like…” He picked up his phone from the nightstand, dropping it onto the bed after he saw the time. “6 in the goddamn morning. Why are you waking me up at 6am on my day off, Mav?”

“I want to show you something but we need to hit the road soon unless you want it to become an overnight trip. So go and get ready.” Maverick picked up a shirt he had thrown over a chair a day or two ago and threw it at Rooster, catching him off guard enough for it to hit him square in the face.

Knowing full well he couldn’t escape this trip Rooster just sighed and gathered his things so he could get ready. Hurrying through the process of getting ready until he was standing back in his room, silently looking at Mav while the older man looked at the pictures Rooster had taped up next to his bed.

Most of his memories were kept in his phone nowadays but he still liked to keep a few physical pictures with him on deployment. An old strip from a photobooth the two of you had squeezed yourself into, you perched on his lap with his arms wrapped around your middle while you made faces into the camera right next to the picture of his parents with their arms around each other. Maverick was focused on the third picture that was taped up though, their last family picture from before the accident. It had been hard to bend the picture in a way that properly hid Mav since they were all crowded together, Mom and Dad and Mav with little Rooster in the middle. He didn’t regret not tearing it apart in a fit of anger though. Instead he had taken it down after the mission, carefully straightened out the picture until Maverick was no longer hidden behind the back of the picture and next to them again, before putting it back up with their family reunited.

Rooster watched as he reached out and trailed a finger across the crease. It felt like he was interrupting a moment so he just stood still for a few more seconds, giving Maverick a little bit more time. When the other man turned around he didn’t seem surprised to see Rooster standing in the middle of his room though, a small smile growing on his face.

“Ready to go, kid?”

“Yeah.” He replied, waiting for Mav to bring up the pictures or where they were going but nothing came in response.

“Great.” Maverick stepped past him, hand coming up to give his shoulder a firm pat. “We’re taking your Bronco.”

It wasn’t until they were out of San Diego and making their way down a highway out east that Maverick opened up a little. He had been designated to the passenger side, left to peruse through the handful of cassette tapes in the glove box and play navigator while Rooster drove.

“Good selection.”

Out of the corner of his eyes Rooster could see the older man’s hands stopping once he came across a familiar mixtape, his own illegible handwriting staring back at him. He had played the tape over the years, knew the songs by heart even. But he still wasn’t able to read the writing. Your daddy had the nicest handwriting - his mother used to tell him - always filling out paperwork for Maverick. It wasn’t until he was older that he understood why his mother continued to do the same after his father’s death. A small act of kindness towards the poor soul that had to deal with Maverick Mitchell, saving at least a little bit of their sanity by shielding them from his terrible chicken scratch. Mav could write legibly when he cared, Rooster had a shoebox full of cards and letters at the old house that proved this, but he never really cared for paperwork.

Still focusing most of his attention on the road in front of them, Rooster saw the older man opening the case and carefully putting it into the correct slot on the old car. It took a moment for it to start but he smiled as the intro to Danger Zone began playing. Mav was nodding his head along the rhythm and Rooster could feel himself being overcome by some kind of nostalgic sorrow.

He was young when his father died. Too young. That wasn’t something he ever tried or was able to hide. But he tried his hardest to shield the ones around him from the full truth and maybe lie to himself a little. Nick Bradshaw had been a good man and he deserved to be remembered as such by his loved ones. Which just caused his limited memories of his dad to be all the more painful. No matter how hard Rooster tried to find new memories hidden away in a far corner of his brain he was stuck with a handful of amazing but painful ones.

It must have been mere days before the accident. His mom was somewhere, he didn’t quite know where, but his dad and his uncle Mav were with him. He remembered that the radio was blasting Danger Zone and that the adults had been singing along. They had all jumped across the room wildly and his uncle had picked him up only to collapse onto a couch or bench or something similar towards the end of the song.

After their falling out it had taken him years until he could listen to the song again without getting overwhelmed by emotions. But sitting here now, side by side with the man he tried to hate for years, all that heaviness he’d been carrying around with himself seemed to lift. It would never be like that one carefree summer afternoon in San Diego again but Rooster was certain that they could work towards mending their relationship again and he looked forward to it.

They had been driving for hours and Rooster was starting to get tired of the scenery. While he appreciated the desert as a beautiful place in theory after driving through it for a while it started to become too monotonous for him. They had stopped at a diner in a small town around eleven and eaten what would probably be considered brunch although there was a distinct lack of mimosas. He had filled the tank while Mav picked up some things from a nearby store and they were on the road again before noon.

“There’s a dirt road up ahead, on the left side. No street sign but you’ll see it.”

It was easy to follow his directions, pulling the Bronco into the street and making their way down the road. He could see a building up ahead, far enough removed from the main road to not be visible to passing cars but now that they were on the smaller dirt road Rooster was able to see that they were heading straight towards it.

An airplane hangar. Maverick had taken him to an airplane hangar. In the middle of the damn Mojave.

He slowed down the car once they got close enough, coming to a stop near the access doors but off to the side so he wouldn’t block the runway. If it involved Mav and a hangar there would definitely be planes around and he didn’t want to be in the way.

“Remember the thing you talked about last time at The Hard Deck?” Maverick said, hopping out of the car and Rooster had to suppress a laugh at the sight before he exited the Bronco too.

He watched as Maverick walked over to the middle of the hangar and raised his voice a little so that the older man could hear him even as he walked away. “What thing? I talked about a lot of things.”

“About the old house and it being your homebase.” Maverick was fiddling around with the chain that hung in the middle of the giant doors but Rooster couldn’t see what exactly he was doing, even as he walked closer.

“Well….” The chain rattled as it fell to the ground but Mav picked it up before giving each side of the heavy doors a push. “Welcome to my homebase.” Maverick said before slipping through the gap in the door and disappearing into the darkness.

Homebase. The stupid word echoed in his mind as he hesitated to follow the older man into the hangar. He had said that, hadn’t he? Downplayed the significance of you, your home… his home. Expressing his feelings had never been his strong suit but part of him didn’t regret his selfish choice of words. He trusted the daggers with his life but he didn’t want to share your relationship with them, not when he wasn’t sure of things himself.

He couldn’t bare himself to them in such a manner. Not when he still struggled to come to terms with things himself.

Trying to shake those thoughts he followed after Mav. The inside of the hangar was significantly darker than the outside even with the slight opening in the doors letting in light and his eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could see but when they did he looked around the large space in awe.

Rooster knew that the older man had an affinity for all things speed -bikes and planes, even the occasional sports car- but looking around he was surprised by how many machines he could see. Just from a first glance he counted at least 15, half of which he somewhat remembered from his childhood, as well as an old P-51 and… random furniture placed in front of a trailer?

“What-” He started but didn’t finish his sentence. What would he even ask? What is this place? Homebase. Mav had already said that.

He looked around again, trying to find Maverick between the machines.

“Go sit down.”

He nearly jumped at the sound of Mav’s voice echoing through the hanger. He hadn’t seen or heard him coming at all.

“I’ll go get the bags from the car but you go sit. Or go look around. Make yourself at home. Just don’t touch anything.”

The way he said it sounded like an adult warning a small child. Don’t touch anything, you could get hurt. And for a second Rooster thought about all the years he had spent with Maverick and his machines. How they had fixed up old bikes and Mav had patiently explained what every tiny screw does before ruffling his hair and telling him good job buddy for handing him a wrench. How he had helped Rooster get all his licenses from bikes to cars to planes and then let him take out some of the machines for joyrides or to impress girls at his high school. How he knew what he was doing and if he wanted to he could touch because he knew not to get hurt. Because he’s not a kid anymore. Because Mav taught him how not to get hurt.

But instead he kept quiet and looked around.

Rooster spent a while looking at the P-51. That thing must have cost a fortune even if it was old and Mav did the repairs himself. It was a gorgeous plane though and he hoped that he could convince his godfather to take him up with it soon.

The row of bikes felt so familiar it hurt but he still ran his fingers over the polished metal with care. All neatly lined up along the side of the hangar.

When he was younger Mav kept a locker covered in stickers in their garage. He still had the same locker now in the hangar and the collection of stickers had only grown. He used to go into the garage to look at them all the time when he was a child. Stickers of the different squadrons in all colors of the rainbow. He had them all memorized before he had memorized all 50 states. This one is where Ice flies -Maverick would point out- and this one is the squad that has to deal with Wolfman and Hollywood. They had gone through all the different symbols and pointed out when one of Mav’s friends flew with them.

As a kid he often wondered which squadron he would be assigned to, what insignia he would rep. He slowly raised a hand and ran his fingers over the Golden Warriors sticker at the side of the locker when something past the locker caught his eye.

Pictures upon pictures taped to the wall, familiar faces staring back at him. He could see pictures of Maverick and his parents as he stepped closer. Iceman. Their class at top gun.

Himself.

One of the pictures he knew. It was taken the day his high school baseball team had won a state championship and he remembered feeling like he was on top of the world. His mom had already been sick at that point but her prognosis had been good. Mav had been home from deployment and was able to bring his mom and together they had cheered loud enough that they could be heard across the entire pitch. Other teens would have felt embarrassed but Bradley had felt nothing but love. They had taken him out to eat afterwards and he had talked their ears off while stuffing his face with fries. His mother hadn’t even scolded him for talking with his mouth full. He had asked about the naval academy and if they had a baseball team and if Mav thought he should join. They’d all been so happy.

Not even a year later his mom was dead and Mav had pulled his papers and he had found himself on the other side of the continent completely alone.

Mav had another picture of him as well although he didn’t know where he got it. It was a newer one of him in his uniform, taken before the start of his last deployment. Ice, he answered his own unasked question. There was only one person that held enough rank and love for Maverick to get a hold of his picture.

He should have reached out sooner. If not to Mav then at least Iceman. Even in his stubbornness he had to admit that the late admiral had never treated him with anything but kindness and now it was too late to apologize.

“There you are.” Mav’s voice came from behind him and Rooster was proud that he didn’t flinch at the sudden noise. He had completely forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the hangar.

Instead of speaking immediately he took a deep breath and swallowed down his feelings. One step at a time. First he’d mend things with Mav for the future, then he’d ask for forgiveness for the past.

“Quite the collection you got here.” He said instead.

“Yeah?” He could see how the older man’s eyes lighted up at the mention of his machines. “I got more up here and a few more back there.” He turned around to point them out to Rooster, taking a few steps away from the side of the hangar.

“I’ve put the bikes on the backburner for a little bit to focus on the plane but as soon as I get it back up and running I have a few that need repairs. Maybe you could come and help me out a little. Like old times.” Mav smiled.

“That would be nice.”

He watched as Maverick walked over to the sitting area and followed. He disappeared into the trailer for a moment only to come out holding two bottles in his hands and gesturing for Rooster to sit. It was almost as if he had set up a little living room in the middle of the hangar. With an armchair and a couch, a small coffee table all on a big rug in front of the trailer. Wait…

“Mav do you fucking live here?”

Mav just gestured to the couch. “Sit down Bradley.”

It felt weird to be called Bradley again. For years he had only gone by Rooster or Bradshaw, building it up almost like a second identity or an armor. To him it felt like he had left Bradley behind years ago when he left home. Still, he sat down.

He looked at Mav.

Mav looked at him.

“Yes Bradley. I’ve been living in this hangar for the past few years while stationed at a nearby air base.” He finally said.

“In that trailer?”

Mav didn’t say anything, just nodded while looking at him.

He shifted a little where he sat on the couch, trying to avoid eye contact. “So you’re just all alone out here in the desert?”

“You know I’m used to being on my own, Bradley. No wife, no kids.”

Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.

He should have known that he would end up eating his words. No matter how much anger and distress he was feeling when he spoke them, no words were said without consequences and he was about to be faced with his.

He shifted in his seat again, still not meeting the older man’s eyes. “Mav, listen…”

“No. No.” Mav took a deep breath and let in out loud enough for him to hear it through the distance between them. “You were right.”

Another silence fell over them, this one weighing heavier on him than the ones before.

“I fear we’re a lot more similar than either of us would like to admit.”

It sounded less than a statement and more like a confession or maybe even a little bit of an apology. Like it pained Maverick to admit it and he had to force himself to say them. As if it had been a shortcoming on his end that had made them this way and not just the universe playing a cruel joke.

“There are… a lot of things we need to talk about and a lot of things I need to apologize for but not now. We have all the time in the world to talk things out but that’s not why I brought you here.”

“Then why did you?” His own voice sounded strange to him but he couldn’t figure out why. His thoughts were racing but at the same time his mind felt emptier than ever.

“I don’t want you to repeat the same mistakes I made.”

“Mav…”

“People like us belong in the sky and when something comes along to threaten that things turn ugly. You think there’s nothing worse than having that freedom taken away from you but there is. Because we can’t… we can’t stay up there forever, Bradley, no matter how hard we try. Once that’s taken away you have to look around and see what’s waiting for you on the ground. And when you see there’s nothing waiting for you… That’s scary, kid.”

Although he understood every word coming out of Maverick’s mouth he couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“You’re allowed to put down roots without them chaining you to the ground. You’re allowed to build a home and a family without fear holding you back.”

And all of a sudden his words began to make sense.

No wife. No kids.

Just like him.

Somebody to mourn him if he burns in.

“I don’t think…”

“Don't think. Just do.”

That damn sentence had burrowed itself into his mind. Nested itself deep enough in his subconscious that there was no way he’d ever get rid of it again and Maverick repeating them now did nothing to soften the blow he felt.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Such a simple question. Such a simple answer. Yet it felt like he had to force himself to admit it. “Yes.”

“Then tell her.”

Sometimes home wasn’t a place but a person but there had to be some incredible luck involved for the two to overlap for him.

For years he had felt a certain type of sadness while driving up to his childhood home, reminiscing about all he’s lost, but as he pulled his Bronco into the little driveway all he could think about was what he was about to gain. His stomach was twisting and turning in anticipation.

Part of him wondered if he was doing the right thing, finally confessing to you. The friendship you had built over the span of more than one decade was too important and he didn’t want to mess it up. It had been easier when he was young and stupid and fell into bed with you the first time without consideration but now your time together weighted on him. He hesitated before exiting the car, mentally going over everything he wanted to say and repeating the words Mav had told him before sending him on his way.

She wouldn’t have waited fifteen years for you to get your act together if she wasn’t head over heels in love with you too.

Oh how he hoped that Maverick was right.

Taking one last deep breath he opened the door and got out, throwing it closed behind him. You had planted some new flowers in the front yard. Last time he had been here he was greeted by soft yellow flowers but now all he could see was a beautiful red. Granted it had been a few months since he last came by but he still felt a slight sting at the change. Not that it happened -he was glad that you actually felt at home in your house and comfortable enough to change the greenery- but the fact that he missed it. As he made his way towards the front door he thought about all the other things that could have changed since he saw you last. Did you get new pillows for the couch? Hung new pictures on the walls?

He had to search through his keys for a moment before he found the house key but as soon as he did he unlocked the door and stepped inside. There were noises coming from the tv in the living room and he had no problem imagining you curled up on the couch with a soft blanket and a mug held between your soft hands with one of your shows playing.

“Honey, I’m home!” He called out, hoping that you wouldn’t be able to hear the desperation in his voice and only the excitement.

Instead of a response he could only hear a crash coming from the living room and instantly became concerned. He couldn’t take more than two steps down the hallway though before you suddenly appeared at the other end of the small space. Messy hair and comfy clothes he didn’t have time to brace himself before you all but tackled him, clinging to his body while his arms came up to hold you up and against him.

Holding you in his arms again just made him feel so much more confident in his decision. His body still felt a little sore even a week after the mission but he’d never tell you out of fear that you would lessen your crushing embrace. The last thing he wanted right now was to be separated from you in any way. He could feel saying something against his shoulder but he couldn’t hear anything, the sound muffled by his shirt.

You must have realized that he wasn’t able to understand what you were saying because you pulled away a little so he could understand you better. “You’re home.” You almost whispered, voice airy and light and a big smile on your face. “Why are you home? You’re supposed to be overseas, why are you here? You always text me before you’re home or at least give me a call. Are you okay? What happened?”

He smiled as you took his hands between your hands, trying to see if he was hurt while rambling and he just couldn’t hold himself back any longer so he leaned down and finally, finally put his lips on yours in the softest, most loving kiss he could muster with the amount of desire running through his body. If he surprised you with his kiss you didn’t show it, instead your lips began to move against his, only for him to pull away once you try to deepen the kiss.

“I love you.”

The words didn’t feel foreign in his mouth even though it was the first time he said them for a long long time. He’s been running from his true feelings for as long as he could remember but now that he managed to spill them he couldn’t stop.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Realizing that he was still holding you up, he carefully lowered you down until there was solid ground underneath your feet. You looked so sweet just standing there and part of him just wanted to swoop you right up again. Instead he brought one of his hands up to cradle your face, carefully stroking his thumb over your cheek.

“Baby...” You started but stopped when his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

He could see your brows furrow in confusion so he continued.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared and it took me fifteen years to finally admit it but I love you. I love you and I’m not scared anymore and I’m yours… in any way that you’ll have me.” It was a blatant lie. He wasn’t just scared, he was absolutely terrified. Not just about his confession but also the future and the past and everything in between. But he needed to tell you how he felt so desperately.

Your hand touching his brought him back from his thoughts, cradling his hands while he cradled your face and a smile so wide he couldn’t focus.

When you spoke your voice was barely more than a whisper. “Oh you stupid man.”

For an awful drawn-out second he couldn’t breathe before your lips met his again and he felt whole again. Deepening the kiss all he could think about was how he was never letting go of you again.

Lieutenant Jakob Middlename Seresin enjoyed the simple things in life. A cold beer, a light breeze, and a beach full of attractive people were paradise on earth for him. After the recent mission all he wanted to do was lay back and relax before he had to head back out for deployment so when two of his old academy buddies talked about their new house in Hawai’i he invited himself to crash in their guest bedroom for two weeks and so far it had been nothing but pure bliss.

Taking a picture of his current view he sent it to his parents before pulling up the group chat Fanboy had made for everybody involved in the mission. He had missed about 50 messages but just from scrolling past them he picked up that Bob had sent a picture with his family and now everybody was roasting him for how out of character it seemed. Apparently there were flannel shirts and horses involved and Jake was just about to scroll back up to take a look himself so that he could join in the fun when a new message was sent to the group chat that caused him to drop his phone into the fine sand with a bitten off curse.

Rooster 🐓

getting hitched in vegas this wknd, be there or be square

txt Mav for details

Before he could fully process what he just read the chat was blowing up again. Text after texts came in expressing various degrees of excitement but Jake just read over Rooster’s text again before putting his phone away. With a sigh he brought his half-empty beer up to his lips and emptied the bottle before getting up to make his way back to the house.

It was only Wednesday so he still had a little time to enjoy his vacation before he had to head back to the mainland and he fully planned on enjoying it. He just needed to ask his friends where he could buy some gaudy Hawaiian shirts first. Maybe he’d even find some Vegas wedding appropriate ones.

He wouldn’t leave his wingman hanging.

#Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine

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mafiatsunafish · 2 months

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The daggers were surprised to see a man that looks like a younger version of Rooster walking into the Hard Deck.

He had the pilot starter pack, Hawaiian floral print shirt, sunglasses hanging on his inner white shirt and all that jazz.

But there was something just so wrong with him, the daggers couldn’t seems to wrap their head on what exactly was wrong.

And then they saw Hangman trailing behind the said man looking weirdly worried and awkward.

“Roo, I’m sorryyyyyy.”

The blond’s apology spooked the entire squad cause the know he DOES NOT say sorry to anyone, except when he really screwed up.

Another thing, so that man was Rooster but apparently just missing something?

A small cartoonish light bulb appeared on Phoenix head. She shouted:

“Hey Rooster, where the hell is your mustache!?”

It has been years since the last time she saw his bare face like that, ever since their orientation at flight school. Therefore, this creeped the fuck out of her.

Now the other daggers took a few seconds to reboot their brain and updated on the situation, started to boom bard the tall brunet with many questions.

To be fair, none of them NONE OF THEM ever see Rooster without his infamous porntasche, so oh my my for them.

Then Halo seemed to find out another thing that just out of place on Rooster point out.

“Rooster, that is one nasty black eyes you have there man, alright?”

The pair, Hangman and Rooster now sat with their squad, the blond still looked weird and the brunet looked so done but still somehow amused.

“Just feels like I want to shave it.”

Rooster shrugged easily.

“And the black eye in on me.”

Hangman suddenly answered and that take their friend out.

“Uhmmm.. what happened? May I asked? Should I even know?” Coyote asked wearily.

“This bastard, decided to shave his face, bare, without saying anything. Then acted like nothing happened, hugged me from behind when I was cooking. I turned around to see a fucking stranger standing in my kitchen so I punch him.”

“What!?” Their friends shouted

“It’s not my fault that I’ve never see him without damn thing on his face!”

Hangman shouted back while Rooster just laughing beside him.

“I vetted him for that, the last time I saw our chicken’s bare face was in our first week of flight school and that was years before Hangman meet him.” Phoenix was also laughing now.

“I’m alright now, just a punch. He screamed bloody murder when he saw my face like this too.” Rooster added

“Roooooo!” Hangman hid his face behind his hands and Rooster just kissed him softly on his side, still laughing of course.

“It’s ok darling.” Rooster said to his lover.

“Damn, but I understand what Hangman did cause you looked so weird” Bob said while giggling.

“Please put it back.” Fanboy distress mumbling get drowned among his squad mate various noise of amusement.

(The first time Mav and Ice saw Rooster with his mustache through a picture Slider sent them.

Slider was stationed at Rooster based then, he had to call the husbands to warned them first, before sending the picture.

But still.

Mav almost have a panic attack and Ice was so shocked, they then just crying that whole evening. Nothing can prepare them to see how much their godson looks like his father. To the point they almost believe that was Goose, standing there in his flight suit, smiling brightly at them.)

(The autocorrect had me rolling fr )

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the-ace-with-spades · 2 months

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(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)

When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.

He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."

There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.

The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.

The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.

Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.

The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.

Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.

Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.

Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.

He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.

Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."

"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."

Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.

Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.

Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.

The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.

Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.

Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.

But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.

He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.

"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"

Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.

"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."

"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."

"Sweetheart—"

"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."

Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.

The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.

Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.

Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.

Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.

They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.

For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.

They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.

Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.

Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.

Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

#this isn't really about Ice's death or Mav's death #but more about getting old in a family #sorry in advance #dunno if this made sense #idk felt some way when i wrote it #my nan had a stroke around that time and as a person who works mainly with critical stroke patients it hit hard #i didn't get into detail here but stroke patient at the end of their lives are very emotional sight for relatives #icemav #hangster #angst #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #tgm #charlie writes #op

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enditen · 10 months

Text

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck.

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse.

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

#bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic

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ohtobeleah · 10 months

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Way Down We Go // Jake Seresin

Summary: Burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Warnings: Angst. Mental health talks. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Friends to Lovers to ex’s to enemies to friends to lovers trope.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Based off my own recent experience with Burn Out. Writing this helped me process some of my pent up frustration with accepting the fact I experienced my first real major burn out at 24.

In 2019, the World Health Organisation officially recognised “Burnout” in its international classification of diseases. Studies show that aviators who report signs of burnout have enlarged amygdalas. The area in the brain that regulates fear and aggression.

But burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Put simply, Burnout comes from a deep imbalance. Too much stress with too few rewards. You're exhausted. Depleted. You no longer have patience, pleasure of serotonin. This is the end unless–

You turn it into something else and find your path to recovery. Pick the pieces you want from your life and find a new way forward. But sometimes it isn't all that simple. Sometimes the all-consuming is just that, it's all-consuming–

And sometimes it's easier to drop the deadweight than to try and carry it on your shoulders.

“Anyone see Rouge today?” It was Hangman's tone that sent a shiver down Roosters spine as he scoffed down the turkey sandwich he had slapped together this morning in the rec room. “We’re on the schedule together after break and I haven't seen her all day?” Rooster knew exactly where you were. At home, probably in bed under a plethora of blankets just trying to catch up on some sleep.

“I uh–” Rooster was raised by an intelligent and loving woman who had always told him not to talk with his mouth full, but in times like these where every second mattered, that rule seemed more obsolete with every day that passed him by. He did however, make an effort to cover his mouth as he chewed and spoke. “Actually I think I’m with you this afternoon, Mav just hasn't had a chance to change the schedule.” It wasn't technically a lie.

“Is Rogue not in today?” Jake frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Or is she just avoiding me or something?” You and Jake Seresin had a complicated history. On again and off again romantically, on again off again friends, but these days it seemed to be that the two of you were more off than on. To the point where if you could avoid it, the two of you would ignore each other's existence completely. It was easier that way.

Which meant Jake didn't know just how bad things had gotten for you. He didn't know you’d decided to take an extended leave of absence from work until you could figure out just what the hell was wrong with you. He didn't know that Rooster had been at your house last night on a welfare check mission. He felt it was his responsibility, after all you were his uncle's daughter.

“Kerners decided to take some time off work.” Rooster explained the best he could without giving too much detail about your personal problems away. “After yesterday's mishap, she got spooked and asked Simpson for a few days to collect her thoughts.”

Jake swore his heart left his body when he saw you lose control for those few seconds. All he could do was watch on in pure horror as you tried to regain control of your fighter jet after getting caught in his jet wash. You panicked, something that was completely out of the ordinary for you which led to you losing control of your F-18 for those brief moments in time.

Jake wanted to talk to you after you landed, but within seconds of touching down you were heading straight for the locker room to grab your things. Unbeknownst to him it was your final straw. He hadn’t seen you since. And now Bradshaw was telling him you weren't in at all and wouldn't be for a while? Things weren’t adding up. Not to Jake. This wasn’t like you at all.

“What aren't you telling me, Rooster?” Jake pressed as he paced up and down the rec room with his arms folded. He cared about you, he just didn’t know how to convey that care. He’d never not care about you.

“I’m not not telling you anything.” Bradley replied, he looked like a deer caught in Jake's headlights. “We should get ready for our next hop man.” Bradley tried his best to change the subject, the subject being you and your mental stability. “I’m sure if Rogue has something to say she’ll say it.” He shrugged as he stood, knowing that Jake was probably the last person you would ever want to come clean to about being so vulnerable. “We better get going.”

“You’d tell me if she wasn’t alright, wouldn’t you?” Again, the tone Jake used sent a shiver down Bradley’s spine. He knew how tramaltious your relationship was. “If Kerner wasn’t alright you’d let me know?” Jake didn’t need Bradley to reply, his silence spoke louder than any excuse he could make up on the spot. “Dammit Bradshaw—“

“She didn’t want you to know!”

“Know what!?” Jake hissed. He didn’t raise his voice in fear of bringing any sort of unwanted attention to the situation, but he was worried. Worried about what he didn’t know, worried about you. The best friend he couldn’t talk to. The love of his life he couldn’t admit to. You were the only woman in the world who knew how to take his breath away, in more ways than one. “God Rooster, just tell me what’s going on!”

“She’s afraid to burn in—“ Bradley sighed as he held the bridge of his nose and hung his head in shame. You trusted him like an older brother and yet here he was, spilling your dirty mental health laundry to the only person you begged him not to tell. Jake Seresin, the love of your life that drove you insane. Your best friend who you couldn’t confide in, the only man who made you want to shoot for the moon and capture all the stars too. “She took an extended leave, told the Admirals they either needed to sign off on the paperwork or they’d be signing her death notice.” It was hard to hear because to Jake this was coming out of nowhere. “She just needs time.” Jake didn’t know how to respond, but most importantly he didn’t know how to react.

“I don’t have time for all this melodrama, Rooster.” Jake shook his head in disbelief. “If Rogue wants to throw her career away because of a few bad days so be it but I’m not sympathetic.” It was the only response Jake knew how to give, but he was panicking on the inside. “I’ll see you for pre-flight checks.”

“I think it’s more than just a few bad days, Hangman.” Bradley wasn’t going to say when he saw you last night he hardly recognised you. “She’s hid it well.” In all the time Bradley had known you, he’d never seen you this bad before. It was serious. He’d experienced his own burn out a few years back just after the Uranium mission. Before you joined the Daggers. It had taken its toll on him a hell of a lot more than he was prepared for. “She hid it so well I didn’t even know something was up until she was on the edge already.”

In that very moment Bradley came to realised why you didn’t want Jake to know you were struggling, you didn’t want him to know that if given the chance you’d quit tomorrow because the burn out you were in was so entirely consuming that it made it hard to even get out of bed. When was the last time you ate?

“She hid it so well it’s almost hard to believe, don't you think?” Jake snapped over his shoulder as he left the rec room, completely in denial about the fact you didn’t let him in.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The entire day had passed you by before you even contemplated the idea of getting out of bed. The idea in and of itself seemed exhausting. Expending any kind energy other than the minimal amount to breath seemed like a chore.

Your stomach grumbled as you sat up and looked out the window that nestled itself beside your bed—pushed up against the wall just the way you liked it. It was dark, the day had passed and even though you couldn’t be bothered doing anything, the idea you’d wasted a full day in bed made you feel like shit. Plain and simple. You felt like crap and there was no one else to blame for that intense feeling of disappointment than yourself.

As you climbed over your mess of linen and covers, a not so subtle knock began to echo out through your apartment.

“Rooster!” You groaned, pressing your forehead into your mattress as you slumped in defeat. “Go away! I told you I’m fine!” You weren’t fine, you just didn’t want anyone worrying about you. You had this under control right? Even if you didn’t know what was happening to you.

When the knocking persisted you knew you had to let Bradley in, he’d camp out in the hall before he left without seeing you.

“My god I told you I’m fine!” You groaned as you made your way down the hall. Still in the same clothes you went to bed in yesterday afternoon. “I don’t need you doing welfare checks on me every dam—“ As you opened the door, it took you a second to register that it wasn’t Bradley standing out in the hall. “Jake?” You frowned, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more vulnerable than you did six minutes ago. “What are you doing here?”

“Bradshaw said you’re on leave?” Was all Jake said as he stepped into your apartment, it still felt like home despite the fact he hadn’t been over in months since your last bust. “What gives Rogue?” He was still in his flight suit, usually Jake showed before leaving base. But you were the priority right now. He just needed to see you. See for himself what the hell was going on.

You watched as Jake made his way into your home, into your sacred space without so much as an afterthought that he may be intruding. He never did think his actions through if he wasn’t inside an F-18.

“Is that your way of asking me if I’m alright?” You rolled your eyes as you shut the front door, making a note to lock it behind you in case any other nosie aviators with callsigns that belonged to the flightless bird community came knocking.

“It’s my way of asking what gives—“ Jake made sure to correct you. “So what gives? It’s not like you to take a break, you’re as good as they come—don’t actually get any better if you want my personal opinion.” It wasn’t a secret that you and Jake rotated as ‘The Best’ like a rositery chicken. He was on top one week and suddenly it was you by just a few points. But the sentiment remained, you were the only one who ever came close to matching Jake Seresin. It was just in your DNA.

“Yeah I don’t remember asking for it.” You hissed, pushing past Jake as he stood in your hallway like a fungus you needed to get rid of before it had a chance to infect you. “Just because I’m the best doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break from time to time.”

As you made your way down the hall toward your bedroom, Jake noticed the way your shoulders slumped just the slightest bit. He noticed the way you looked as if you hadn’t been out of bed all day, the way your hair looked like a bird's nest atop your head. And he wasn’t sure why you were wearing the T-shirt he thought he’d lost three weeks ago but as it turned out you had it all along.

“Y/n—“ Jake sighed as he watched you disappear into your room without so much as an explanation. “Wait.”

“I need to shower.” It was the toneless way you explained yourself that sent warning signals off in Jake's mind as he followed you.

“Hypothetically if I were to ask if you were doing okay would you tell me the truth?” You and Jake hadn’t always been so short with one another, but it was just the way it was now. It was the dynamic you were used to but loathed so much. You just wanted him to love you the way you saw in all the Disney films that were crammed down your throat as a kid.

But Jake couldn’t. It wasn’t in his DNA.

“Probably not, but like I told Bradshaw last night, I’m fine, just needed some time off work.” You shrugged as you fished through your dresser for a fresh pair of socks. Jake just stood off to the side, unsure of what to make of the mess that was your room. Usually you made it a note to keep your space clean and tidy. But when Jake looked around all he saw was complete chaos, a quick look into the inside of your mind looked like.

“Isn’t that what weekends and annual leave is for?” He mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

“Couldn’t wait—I’m taking this unpaid and uninterrupted, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.”

“Don’t lie to me.” It came out more like a plea than a demand but it still didn’t sit right with you. You knew Jake Seresin didn’t care about anyone but himself. You’d known him long enough to know that he was selfishly egomaniacal. He didn’t care, not about you anyway. “Don’t lie to me Kerner—“

Jake had stopped you from moving any further towards your ensuite, with a gentle hand wrapped around your forearm.

“I’m. Fine.” You had grit your teeth together to stop yourself from breaking. The force was enough to make your jaw ache. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Really?” Jake challenged. “Because I’m standing on a pile of washing that smells like the inside of Fanboys locker.”

“What has that got to do with anything!” As you ripped your arm out of Jake's grip he was quick to follow you into your bathroom. “I’m behind on laundry, big deal.”

“It’s a big deal for you!” You could feel yourself crumbling the more Jake pressed you for the truth. “I don’t know what’s going on but—“

“Oh what exactly do you want me to say Jake? That I get up and then all day I'm tired, and that I wanna take a nap all day?” Everything you had been trying to hold in and deny was finally bubbling to the surface. “Do you want to hear me say that I have no motivation? That I don't wanna do anything.”

“Y/n—“ Jake tried to interrupt as you threw your stuff on the bathroom floor in a heap. “It’s—“ There wasn’t a single thing Jake could say that could comfort you once the damn had been broken, you had held it all in for so long.

“That I don't want to work, I can’t Jake because if I’m not in my own mind than I could kill myself up there or even worse–I could kill one of you!”

All Jake could do was to stand there and listen as you let him know everything you had been struggling with for the past few months, slowly losing yourself day by day. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why you felt this way, why all the enjoyment and all of the life had been sucked out of you.

“I don't want to talk to anyone, especially you!” It was then you shoved at Jake’s chest, completely fed up with your emotional turmoil. He didn’t fight back, no. Jake simply held you close to his chest as he pulled you into a warm embrace that you so desperately needed. “I don't want to hang out with anyone, I don’t wanna watch TV or read a book or even go on my phone but at the same time as all of that I'm so bored! I don't care about anything because all that I care about is just surviving.”

“You’re burnt out Rogue—“

“I’m not!!” Jake swore black and blue that was what you’d been trying to get at. “I can’t be burnt out!” He was even more confused than he was when Rooster had tiptoed around the situation earlier that same day. “My dad burnt out when he was at the height of his career and you know what he did?” Jake knew, he loved your dad like his own. Ron Slider Kerner was one of the best men Jake had ever had the pleasure of knowing. “He became a goddamn airline pilot!” There was anger in your voice, a deep sadness that Jake didn’t understand, what was so wrong with being an airline pilot?

“Y/n, Y/n—“ Jake held you as tight as he could. He hadn’t held you like this in what felt like forever. “You’re gonna be okay.” Your head dipped just perfectly under his chin as you broke, there was nothing worse than crying into the arms of the man you loved and hated all at once. “I’m here, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It was the sadness in your cry for help that broke Jake's heart the most, how long had you been dealing with this by yourself? How long had you been telling the people closest to you that you were fine when you really weren’t. “Why can’t I just—“ You couldn’t breathe. “Why can’t I—“ You couldn’t finish your sentences without nearly gasping for air. “I—I can’t—“

“Okay, you’re alright, come with me. Something about Jake Seresin that surprised you the most was the way he dealt with panic attacks. For a guy as level headed as him he sure suffered in silence for the longest time. But you knew—it was one of the reasons you thought Jake couldn’t stand you half the time.

You knew his biggest weakness. Himself.

“Sit.” Jake led you over to the side of your bed as he knelt on his knees before you. “Now just breathe with me alright, I’ve got you.” It was the calming tone in his beautiful voice that had you giving yourself entirely to him. You didn’t want to be trapped inside your own head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you Rogue, everyone goes through burnout, it’s a part of life.” Jake wasn't diminishing your feelings, but from his own experience he knew that there was a weight on your shoulders you needed to rid yourself of. “And it’s real, and it’s valid and it doesn’t mean you aren’t incredibly good at what you do.”

“I can’t handle the pressure—“

“No, you put too much pressure on yourself, that’s what you can’t handle.”

“Oh what do you care Jake!” He’d never seen you like this, so lost and so broken. “Why are you even here right now!”

“Because I care about you! Why else would I be here, huh?” Jake cupped your cheeks gently as he wiped away the tears that streamed down your supple cheeks. “I care about you and when Bradshaw told me you took a leave of absence I knew something was up. This isn’t you.” It was the truth, it wasn’t you and that’s why it scared you so much. You didn’t feel like yourself. “Baby, this isn’t you.”

All you did was cry in Jake's slightly rough palms as he kneeled before you and tried to do what he could to just be present. He hated seeing you like this, so out of your mind and dealing with an existential crisis. But Jake knew what it was like to experience burnout.

“I can’t be burn out—“

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not real?” That was probably the stupidest thing Jake had ever heard you say. “My mum always used to say that being burnt out was just an excuse for not being good enough, it was a cop out.”

“Something tells me that’s a reason why your parents divorced huh?” You couldn’t hold back the small chuckle that escaped through the sobs. “Y/n, what you're experiencing right now is so real it’s not funny—burnout is real and I reckon once you accept that? It’s going to be easier to overcome than to fight off.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this for a guy who’s as confident as ever.”

“Contrary to popular belief Rogue, I wasn’t born the best.” Jake winked as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “How about you go have that shower and I’ll order some food and we can talk about it, all of it.”

“Is this your way of trying to get in my pants?”

“Mmm—it usually would be, but no, not this time.” Jake admitted as he graciously helped you stand as you sighed out a deep breath. “I’m here to help, can’t leave my wingwoman behind.”

“I love you Seresin.” You smiled softly as you pressed your lips together in a fine line. It was hard to admit, but you’d never not love Jake. “Thanks for showing up.” Jake mimicked your smile before his lips pressed into a fine line of their own. He nodded softly before you turned on your heels, heading into the bathroom before shutting the door behind you.

“I love you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fanfic #hangman top gun #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine

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sorchathered · 3 months

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Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

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thebirdandthebee · 1 year

Text

Act Accordingly

Dipping my toes into the Rooster pool here. Using the jealousy prompt “I don’t like them all looking at you.” No real smut, but allusions to it. Thanks for all the love on Aw Honey Honey! If you like this one, don’t keep it to yourself :)

Title: Act Accordingly Rooster just wants you to act accordingly. WC: 3596

There were few things more relaxing than knowing your classes were done for the week, homework all taken care of, and not a single worry in the world for the next three days.

Your situationship was hosting a barbecue on the beach and he’d asked you to come and help set up a few things behind his friend’s bar, which had direct access to the sand.

Tossing on your favorite bikini and a pair of denim cutoffs, you threw a change of clothes amongst other essentials in a tote and head off toward the bar. You’d been hooking up with Bradley Bradshaw on and off for about eight months – sure, it sounded like a long time, but sometimes he’d disappear for two or three weeks at a time, and you’d get caught up in classes for nursing school as well.

Besides, you didn’t mind, he was an incredible lay and seemingly wasn’t looking for anything serious, so you went along with it – no matter how many times you wished your cut-short mornings could have dragged out a bit longer. You also thought it was kind of cool he flew planes for the Navy and didn’t seem to care when you’d pepper him with questions. He actually seemed pretty happy to answer your questions – but that might have just been the post-orgasm haze.

You’d been to this bar before – Bradley’s Uncle’s girlfriend (?) owned it and you’d met in passing once before. She seemed cool and would sometimes comp your bill, so they were good in your book.

“Hey!” Bradley waved you down from the back deck of the bar. He jogged over and you let your gaze rake down his shirtless body.

“I see you decided to skip sunblock again,” you commented, tilting your sunglasses down to the tip of your nose to take in his rosy skin.

“Not on purpose,” he rubbed the back of his neck, taking your tote from your shoulder and opening it up to grab the spray bottle he knew was in there. “Tits look great,” he commented, eyes darting up to your crocheted bikini top. There was a thin layer of nude fabric beneath the knitting to preserve some decency.

“Likewise,” you grinned, reaching up to tweak one of his nipples. “Now what can I help with?” You asked, looking over at a few empty folding tables next to an equally empty grill.

“Table clothes, plates, napkins, all that shit,” he listed off. “Pen and Mav are bringing food out, but I picked up some fruit and veggie trays, too.”

“Put me to work,” you smiled, sliding your sunglasses back up your nose.

“Wait a minute,” he tugged your wrist as you attempted to broach the table. You found yourself pressed tightly up against Bradley’s front, his hands lodged deep into the back pockets of your denim shorts. “No kiss for Daddy?” He grinned, that dumb, hot mustache stretching across his lips. “Can’t believe you just called yourself Daddy out here in the open where Penny and Jesus can hear you,” you scolded, a laugh ripping from your throat as he squeezed your ass hard.

“Okay, break it up,” you jumped away from Bradley as his Uncle stepped out onto the deck with two big rolls of vinyl in his arms.

“Good to see ya, Pete,” you greeted, running a hand through your hair. “I see you haven’t trained this one up at all since I last saw you.”

“Unfortunately some things are just inherent,” he shrugged but smiled anyway. “Mind helping me with this table cover while we have wonder boy go grab some propane?” He asked, tossing Bradley a look. The younger of the two men shook his head before disappearing into the back of the bar through the sliding door.

“So, you meeting a bunch of Bradley’s friends?” Pete asked, in a way that you were sure he thought was casual.

“I guess,” you smiled, “see ‘em from time to time here and there,” you added. “It’s all casual, Pete,” you added. The older man look contemplative but smiled nonetheless. All it took was half a roll of duct tape to get the table covers to stay down before you could start piling on plates, cutlery and big metal buckets filled with ice for drinks.

You were rubbing down Bradley’s shoulders with sunblock when the first wave of people started arriving.

“I’m gonna go plant myself,” you said, jabbing your thumb over you shoulder. Penny had set up a few beach umbrellas about halfway down the sand and you could feel your towel calling your name.

Bradley nodded and you could feel his hand skim your waist with a ghostly touch as you turned to walk away. Grabbing a White Claw, you headed down the sand, oblivious to the conversations taking place on the back patio.

“Who is that?” Coyote asked, eyes narrowing in on your figure. He, Rooster and Fanboy all paused in admiration as you peeled your denim shorts down your legs, stretching slightly before laying out across your towel.

“She looks…” Fanboy licked his lips, “smart.”

“That one’s mine,” Rooster said with definition.

“Your girlfriend?” Fanboy asked his brows creeping up.

“Well, no, I mean – we’ve been… seeing each other – like unofficially, we’ve been – ” He stammered out.

“What you haven’t planted your flag?” Coyote grinned wolfishly.

“I’ve planted my flag,” Rooster cut sharply, eyes narrowing.

“Sure doesn’t sound like it, Rooster,” Fanboy laughed. “Which means… fair game.” All three men returned their eyes to the beach, where you were rolling over on your towel, breasts pressed closed together and fighting against the seams of your top.

“Hey fellas, what do you want to eat?” Pete said, once again breaking up the conversation as he held up a big tray of burgers and chicken.

Down on the beach, you were trying your best to wiggle into grooves that didn’t tweak your back after standing for clinicals all week. Settling with your hands folded behind your head, taking the full brunt of the sun’s rays, it was a matter of minutes until a shadow cast over you.

“Couple of us are going to play some volleyball,” Bradley was blocking the sun from shining directly in your face. “Want to join?” He offered.

“Deal me into the second game,” you said, “the sun feels so good,” you sighed. “I want to soak it up a little bit,” you insisted. Bradley nodded, his eyes, covered by his sunglasses, trailing down your form. He knew what your skin tasted like, but imagined it sweeter in the hot weather, causing saliva to pool in his mouth.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he insisted.

“Give me a holler when you’re losing,” you smirked. He didn’t know, after all, that you played DI in college. He balled up his Hawaiian shirt, tossing it over to land on your half-empty beach bag.

The game started up as more and more of Bradley’s friend filtered in, joining him only about forty feet away from your little camp site. As the sun passed peak in the sky, it was getting a little more bearable out. You couldn’t help but notice Bradley’s friends were overwhelmingly male and were, as expected, a little disappointed.

“Couldn’t help yourself?” Bradley asked as you approached. His skin was covered in a layer of sweat and you were sure his sunblock was already long gone.

“Just let me serve, Bradshaw,” you said, plucking the ball from his hands. Traipsing to the back corner of the court, you rocked back on your heel, delivering a devastating serve to the other side of the net. The other team didn’t have a prayer.

“It’s not fair! Rooster’s friend is a ringer!” A chiseled blonde called from the other team.

“It’s good to meet Bradley’s friend,” you looked over to see a hand extended to you. “Fanboy,” he introduced.

“Right,” you nodded, introducing yourself, “I forget about the code names,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

“Call signs,” another man with a lantern jaw and dark eyes interjected. “Coyote,” he added.

“Okay, okay, are we playing a game here?” Bradley asked, trying his best to keep a petulant scowl off of his face.

“Hey, we want to trade!” The only other woman in the group called out, “we’ll hand over Bob for Misty Mae-Treanor,” she added, making you laugh.

“Deal!” You called, jogging over to duck under the net.

“I’m Nat,” the woman introduced, “Bradley’s told us a lot about you,” she added. You blamed your blush on the sun. “This is Bagman,” she nodded to the blonde.

“Jake,” he cut in, “and Bradley’s told me nothing about you,” he grinned. You recognized this man from a few of Bradley’s post-work stories.

“Hangman, right?” You asked with a tilt of your head. His grin only widened.

Bradley was no better than any other man and it took every ounce of willpower within him to focus on the game as you countered him on the other side of the net. He wondered how strong that bikini top was, where your tan lines stopped and if you still had that little bruise just on the edge of your nipple where he’d bit you just a little too hard last week. It was okay - he made it up to you.

And God, you were really good at volleyball.

“Just take the L, Rooster!” Natasha, who you’d come to learn was called Phoenix, called out.

“Who’s hungry?” Pete called from up the beach. “Burgers are done!”

“Starving,” you said, jogging over to your towel, stepping into your denim shorts, shimmying to get them over the round of your ass.

“She’s single, right?” Phoenix asked.

“Who cares?” Hangman laughed, dutifully trailing after you as you walked alongside Bradley up the sand.

“How did you get invited to this again?” Bradley asked Jake, making your eyes go wide.

“Bradley!” You scolded, bumping shoulders with Jake, “that’s not very nice.”

“Yeah, that’s not very nice, Bradley,” Jake taunted. “Where you been hiding this one, huh? Afraid she’ll show you up at everything else you do?” He asked.

“Oh, yes, I remember you now,” you grinned. “Dagger Spare, right?” Jake slapped a hand over his chest, causing Bradley to shout out a honking laugh. Bradley was impressed by your memory, he wasn’t sure how much you were really retaining as most of your conversations took place on the periphery of sleep.

You’d all settled around a few tables, burgers, fries and all sorts of other snacks abound. You squeezed between Bradley and Natasha, who was more than happy to let you dip your carrot sticks into her too-big pool of veggie dip. You liked Natasha, she could hold her own amongst the group of knuckleheads and had already complimented your manicure.

You were listening to Fanboy and Coyote going back and forth on some sort of training story when you dropped a cold, white glob of ranch on your chest.

“Whoops,” you murmured, swiping your finger down across the swell of your breast before popping it in your mouth – not noticing that the conversation had come to a complete standstill. You also hadn’t noticed that your nipples had hardened in your top, rendering Coyote completely useless.

“SO,” Phoenix said loudly. “I’m grabbing more drinks from inside, who wants to help?” She asked.

“I’ll help,” you volunteered, pushing your seat back, but with how tightly the chairs were crammed together, there was no easy way to get out. Grabbing the armrest of Bradley’s chair, you hopped over his seat, planting your bare feet on the wood deck. “Taking your shoes,” you tossed over your shoulder, sliding your feet into one of the many pair of brown leather sandals lined up by the sliding door.

Unbeknownst to you, you’d grabbed Coyote’s sandals, but there was no way you could’ve known.

“Big feet!” You called, following Natasha inside. All eyes cut to Rooster when you and Phoenix had disappeared.

“Stop looking!” He said, frustrated.

“What am I supposed to pluck my eyes out?” Coyote asked, gesturing wildly, “they looked at me first!” Hangman shook his head with silent laughter. Bradley really wanted to laugh, too, and he probably would have if it was anyone else that brought their girl around – because that’s what he was trying to do – make you his girl. And he certainly didn’t like all the attention you were drawing from everyone else.

“I mean it, stop flirting with my girl,” he said pointedly, his attention snapping over to Hangman who simply shrugged with a flick of his toothpick.

“I’ll stop flirting,” Hangman drawled, “when she says she’s your girl.”

Bradley blanched. Sure, he was crazy about you, but you’d agreed on casual – even when his feelings developed into something deeper.

He loved ending up at your place after weeks away – laying around your living room, sharing boxes of takeout as he helped you study for the NCLEX. He’d been your patient, sitting for cast wrappings and vital tests, and he knew the exact location of your birthmark, right inside of your thigh. He liked to think of it as the doorbell to get to exactly where he’d like to go.

“Fine,” he rolled his shoulders, taking a bite of his dinner. He only settled when you and Phoenix returned with fresh drinks – holding your hand for balance as you maneuvered your way back into your seat.

“So,” Fanboy grinned, “how long have you two known each other?” He asked.

“Like biblically?” You replied, making Natasha cough on her drink. Rooster’s blush burned bright on his scarred cheek. “Hmm, I think eight months?” You asked, folding your sunglasses into the pocket of his shirt.

“Sounds right,” Bradley nodded.

“And how long have you –”

“Fanboy, you ever get those mystery stains out of the common room futon?” Natasha interjected. Fanboy paled and took a sip of his drink.

“So who here can tell me the coolest flight story?” You asked, “I’ve heard all of Bradley’s a hundred times and I want to hear something new.” You gave your friend a little grin.

“Look no further,” Jake replied, launching into a list of his own accomplishments.

The next time you excused yourself to head inside and use the restroom, you were cornered by Bradley in the back hall.

“Hi,” you said with surprise, having just tied your hair up into a loose bun atop your head. To Bradley, your neck never looked more kissable.

“Put this on,” he said, holding open his button-up shirt.

“Why?” You asked, sliding your arms through the short sleeves anyway.

“Because I’m not trying to pop a chubby in front of my friends,” he said as if it was obvious. “Where’d you find this swimsuit anyway?” You laughed, but clocked the look in his eyes nonetheless.

“Why are you so bothered?” You asked, leaning back against the wall, shirt unbuttoned.

“I don’t like them all looking at you,” he said, pressing you up against the wall hips-first.

“You don’t like them looking at me?” You asked with a small smile, “then maybe you shouldn’t have invited me to your party,” you added.

“Let me be clear,” he pushed his body into yours with more intent. “I don’t like them looking at you like you’re up for grabs,” there was a darker tone to his words and he chose them very carefully.

“And who do I belong to, Bradley?” You asked, looking up at him through those thick lashes with a glint that made sweat bead at the base of his spine. It was usually a look he only saw before you swallowed his cock whole.

“You’re mine,” he tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear, “and it’s about time we both start acting accordingly.”

“What happened to casual?” You asked, reaching up to tuck your thumb into the cleft of his chin, focusing his attention solely on you. “I haven’t wanted casual with you since the day I memorized thirty gastrointestinal disease flashcards with you,” he said honestly.

“That’s what did it for you, huh?” You grinned, “all that talk of stomach ulcers got you hard for me?”

“Actually I think it was after you passed your test the next day and I bent you over the patio railing,” he recalled, “Yeah, I think that’s what did it for me.”

“Should’ve said something you big lug,” you chastised.

“I should have,” he nodded, hands on your waist, thumbs swiping across you ribcage. “I knew for a while but it took my friends eyeing up these titties like they were the cure before it drove me a little nuts.” He mumbled, making you giggle.

“Maybe they are the cure,” you shrugged, “you think I wore this by accident?”

“The cure is between your thighs, and I need to be saved,” he said, ducking down to kiss you firmly. “Can we please get the fuck out of here?”

“Ditch your own party?” You asked, smiling nonetheless. “Kinda tacky.”

“Says the girl in the Hawaiian shirt,” he countered.

“Touché,” you nodded. “Tell them we’re out and I’ll meet you at the car?” You offered.

“Actually,” Bradley sucked in a breath, “I need you to tell them we’re out,” he recalled Hangman’s comment. You rocked forward, pressing your lips to his once more.

“Okay fine, but when we get back to my place - I get to be pillow princess,” you said pointedly.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned, and you couldn’t resist that stupid mustache, kissing him again. You pulled Bradley by the hand across the bar to the back door again, where Pete and Penny had decided to join the group as the sun went down.

“Sorry to say, it’s time for us to leave,” you announced, sliding your feet back into your own shoes. “But Bradley just recently found his ball sack and we’re together now – so we’ve got business to attend to.” Bradley narrowly escaped the shower of crudité that came flying his way and he parade-waved his way off the patio. “Penny, please bill Bradley for a cleanup!” you called, just before he could sweep an arm under your knees, lifting you from the ground. “He’s actually quite a good cleaner!”

You laughed as he deposited you right into the passenger seat of the Bronco.

“How was that?” You asked, “definitive enough for your friends?”

“Pretty good,” he nodded, bracing his arms against the top of the car, leaning into your personal space. “Better than what I had planned.”

“And what were your big declarations going to be?” You asked.

“Sorry to eat and run – but I gotta run and eat,” he growled, pressing his lips against yours in a hot kiss.

Your scream of laughter carried across the breeze to the back patio, where Pete had just clinked his beer bottle against Fanboy’s.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Aw Honey Honey, you might also like Mighty Fine! This work is 18+

#rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #rooster fluff #allusions to rooster smut #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #jealous rooster #top gun maverick #top gun fick #jealousy prompt

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callsigncherub · 10 months

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To love and be loved.

Summary: Rooster learns what it's like to love and be loved.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, ANGST, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, major character death, drunk driving.

Word count: 4.6k

This is a very angsty piece so 18+ minors DNI.

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. And he was okay with that. He grew up knowing the damage it causes losing the one person you love the most, he saw it first-hand. He saw what his mother had to go through and how difficult it was to be in so much pain but carry on in life. Working, paying the bills, and having the responsibility of a child was challenging enough, but doing all of that whilst grieving was something he could never begin to comprehend. And something he would never want to put someone through.

Nevertheless, he had a great childhood. Living in a small, white beach house along the coast with his mother, he has fond memories of growing up. Baking cakes on Sundays and licking the batter off the spoon, singing corny 80s songs in the car with his mother on the way to school and building model planes with Mav. He had a lot of friends growing up, he was surrounded by love. But Bradley always felt like a part of him was missing. His father.

His mother always told him stories about his father. With Bradley sat across her lap outside on the porch swing, flicking through several photo albums and fiddling with a picture of the three of them when Bradley was born, she would tell him about how they met and fell in love, how much he loved flying with Mav, the family holidays they went on when Bradley was a young child, how Goose nearly passed out when Bradley was born, and how much Goose absolutely adored his son.

At first, Bradley loved hearing these stories, he used to beg his mother to tell him more, but as he entered his early teens, all he felt was anger.

It all started when he woke up one morning to make grab his mother a tea and noticed his father’s favourite mug still at the back of the cupboard, slightly dusty and derelict. He wondered what it was still doing there if no one had been or was going to use it. The next week he was clearing out the attic looking for things to sell so he could save up for the latest CD player when he came across a box with ‘Nick and Carole�� scribbled along its side, filled with old videos, wedding pictures, his mother’s wedding dress and an album entirely dedicated to his father’s journey of being a naval aviator. But underneath all of the memories held in this box were a pair of boots and a khaki uniform.

A few days after finding the box in the attic, he was on his way out to school when his mother noticed his sweater was getting a bit too tight on him and handed him one of his fathers and when he came home, he found a pile of clothes on his bed that he could only assume also belonged to his father. Curiously, Bradley found himself eyeing the pile of shorts and sweaters when a bright yellow caught his eye and he rummaged through the pile, only to pull out the ugliest looking Hawaiian print shirt he’s ever seen.

“Your father loved that shirt. God, you look so much like him Bradley.’ His mother said, standing at the doorway with tear filled eyes.

Bradley lay awake in bed that night hit with an irrepressible amount of emotion, surprised that despite his father passing whilst he was so young, he could remember so much. He thought about the mug, and how his father would drink his coffee from it every day at breakfast, Bradley sat on his knee eating bacon and eggs and his mother ranting about how she doesn’t understand how he could drink black coffee and enjoy it. He remembered waiting on the front porch every day for his father to return home from work and hearing the same uniform he found a week ago, he remembered the sound that those exact boots would make walking up the steps to their home and the joy he felt to see his father. And as Bradley sat up in bed, mind running 100 miles per hour he caught the vibrant shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair and caught the memory of their last family holiday together. The holiday where he built sandcastles with his father, went swimming in the ocean with his mother, it was their final moment of happiness before disaster struck.

For a moment, Bradley smiled with fondness at the thought of his father. But the grief that came after his momentary happiness hit him at full force, like a punch to the gut. He was hit with the realisation that he’d never see his father drink from that mug again, he’d never hear the clunk of those boots walking up the front porch after a long day at work, he’d never see his father wearing his collection of ridiculous Hawaiian shirts again. And at that, he struggled to understand why he was only now beginning to feel this way.

The funny thing with grief is, it never truly goes away. It comes and goes. Sometimes, some days, it’s easier to handle but other days it’s a tough pill to swallow and Bradley was angry at how much time he already lost with his father and how for the rest of his life, there’s always going to be a part of him that’s empty.

So, Bradley spent his teens in a much more reckless way than his mother thought was natural. The late nights, the disobedience, the parties, the girls, coming home high early hours of the morning because he couldn’t face the way he felt.

In all honesty it broke his mother’s heart, and he could see that. It hurt him to hurt her, but there was something that held him back from ever being able to change and truth be told, he was terrified. Maybe it was the fact that it was easier to run away from how he felt rather than face it head on, or maybe it was self-preservation – that if he pushed his mother away then he would hurt less. He felt the burden of being his mother’s only child. Everything she went through whilst having a son to look after as well. And if anything were to happen to his mother, he thought maybe it would be easier to cope. But deep-down Bradley thought that if he followed in his father’s footsteps of joining the Navy, maybe he’d feel that little bit closer to him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so self-destructive. Just maybe, he would make his parents proud.

There are a lot of things Bradley regrets in his life and the way he acted over his teens was one of them. He wanted forgiveness for the amount of time he missed out on because of his incessant need to prove a point he couldn’t even understand until he did. He would be better off alone, forever.

At 18 Bradley lost his mother to a gruelling bout of breast cancer. It was the most difficult thing Bradley had ever gone through in his life. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that she was gone, that he would never see her face again, sing along in the car with her, feel her warm embrace. And to this day, he still remembers the last thing she ever said to him, lying in the hospice where she took her last breath, a long night of waiting ahead of him.

“Bradley, your father loved you so much. I love you so much. Make us proud, my beautiful boy.”

Those were the last words he heard his mother speak, but he could see in her eyes that she forgave him, that every word she’d just said was meant with the truest of intentions and enough love to conquer the world.

After that day, Bradley made it his life’s purpose to serve his country by joining the US navy. His life consisted of his F-18, ready meals, drinks at the Hard Deck and returning home to the barracks – alone. He didn’t fall in love, he never allowed himself to. Sure, he’s had hook-ups in the past, he’d had girls tell him they loved him, but not once had he ever said it back with meaning or said it back at all. He was okay with being alone, because he had no obligations, he wasn’t important to anyone and he was happy with it being that way because he prefers being by himself rather than forcing a love and marriage and kids – pretending to be a person that he isn’t, when he knows it’ll only be temporary.

What is there to lose?

That’s a simple enough question that Bradley thought he knew the answer to. Nothing, he had absolutely nothing to lose. No wife, no children, not even a pet.

But then he met the most beautiful soul and something in him couldn’t quite stay away.

The Hard Deck was always busy on a Friday night, but this one night in particular was jam packed. Celebratory drinks were held for the success of the Uranium Mission and Bradley, though ecstatic that the mission was over, and that he was alive, couldn’t shake the feeling of misery that he felt deep down for realising just how precious life is and how he’s only getting older – and lonelier. He never thought his perspective on how he would spend the rest of his life would change and so he sat at the bar, beer in hand wallowing in self-pity. Downing the rest of his beer, Bradley stood up and slammed some cash on the bar ready to call it a night, about to head off towards the door before colliding against the bar with a thud.

Bradley groaned at the impact, not in the mood to deal with anything else tonight that could worsen the foul mood he was already in.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry. Are you okay?” You screeched, looking up at him with alerted eyes, cheeks flushed a rosy tint – partly out of embarrassment, and partly from the alcohol you’d consumed, meeting up with your friends from work after a busy week.

As soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to look down at you to know that you’d be the most beautiful woman he’s ever met in his life. But still, he couldn’t help himself and as his eyes met yours, he immediately knew wanted you. He wanted you in every way possible. Everything already felt so different. Too stunned to speak, and his mind blank, you were perfect to him.

Now, Bradley didn’t believe in fate, and he certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight, at least not until the night he met you. But that all changed so fast, and Bradley found himself sat at the bar with you until closing, drinking beer after beer – misery long forgotten and the beginnings of the most beguiling relationship starting to bloom.

The relationship progressed fast.

You both went on your first date a week later. It was simple, but perfect. Bradley picked you up from your apartment with a bunch of flowers, dressed in his father’s shirt - the same shirt he couldn’t bear to look at when he was younger. You answered the door in a white sundress, hair falling naturally around your shoulders with a bright smile on your face that had Bradley’s heart racing. After having to endure a 10-minute interrogation from your best friend, you followed Bradley out to his Bronco and drove down to the beach where you had a picnic and watched the sunset, lying on your backs next to each other on an old picnic blanket on the sand.

Your face mirrored his own, both of your hearts pounding against your chests, synchronised with one another. Hands shaking and smiling at each other through tight lips, breaths shallow, bodies vibrating. Eyes ablaze with a burning desire, thinking of all of the possibilities, reserved from seeming too eager to admit how both of you felt, feelings reciprocated. But knowing, you were it for each other.

About a month into your relationship with Bradley, one torturous month of being nagged by the squad on when they were going to meet you, but one incredible month spent with you, he took you to the Hard Deck to meet up with his friends for drinks. All was going well, and Bradley felt content in knowing you were already comfortable around the people he considered family.

“Bradshaw! You never told us your girl was that hot.” Hangman stood next to him, handing him the darts, a smirk on his face.

“Shut up Bagman, just because you lack the brain capacity to keep a girl around for more than a week.” Phoenix scoffed, slapping him on the chest before patting Bradley’s arm sympathetically.

Bradley knew to pay no mind to Jake, but as he watched you laughing with Bob and Javy by the bar in a pretty pink sundress, sipping on a cocktail too sweet for him to fathom, he couldn’t help but let the insecurities creep in. He felt like the luckiest man alive to be your boyfriend, and he was proud to call you his girlfriend, but he constantly carried that heavy burden of how he felt about himself with him. Sometimes he could supress it, put on a brave face and everyone sees him as the most confident person in whatever room he’s in. But Bradley could never truly talk about how he felt, every syllable of every word that’s willing its way out of his mouth, pushing his head further underwater – looking in the mirror and seeing the scars along his face and neck, carved into his skin like a malediction, something he was precariously wishing he could remove.

“Hey Roos, you okay?” Bradley didn’t even realise you’d made your way over to him until he heard your voice and felt your hand reach up to smooth over his hair, so transfixed on his inner thoughts.

He hummed, kissing your forearm, and then talking your free hand in his own. Just seeing your face with concern written all over it was enough for his heart to nearly burst out of his chest.

It was well past 1am when the Hard Deck closed for good, and Bradley led you out to his bronco and put your seatbelt on. Before he could move around to the driver’s side, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. “Thank you for tonight, I had a really nice time with your friends. Even though Jake’s a bit of a dick” Bradley chuckled “I’m glad you had a good time and I’m happy you’re happy. They all love you.” Bradley caught himself on his words after that. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how he knew he loved you from the moment he saw you and how he was certain he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you. Neither of you had said it yet, but you often found yourself wanting to say it too. You both drove home in a comfortable silence, Bradley’s hand resting gently on your thigh, the windows slightly ajar and the radio playing quietly but those three words had been hanging in the air, urging to be said the whole ride home.

Bradley parked up outside and you led him into your apartment. You both changed out of your clothes, and you threw on one of Bradleys old UVA shirts that he’d left at your place. “You coming to bed?” Bradley said quietly as he pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Yeah, I just need to take of my makeup and stuff.” You said pulling away to head towards the bathroom. “And stuff?” Bradley asked and you giggled. “Yeah, like skincare. Fancy joining me?” You asked and you shrieked when Bradley picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying in you into the bathroom and setting you down on the counter without saying a word. You washed your face and picked up your serums and moisturiser, talking Bradley through your skincare routine whilst he stared at you as if you had grown three heads. Bradley watched you squirt some of the serum onto your hand and rub it all over his face. He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, letting out a deep breath. It was his turn to apply it to your face next and by the end of the routine you were both a giggling mess, breaths heavy with laughter. And in that moment, Bradley forgot about his scars, he forgot about all of his insecurities. He was at his happiest with you, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Still sat on the counter, you pulled Bradley closer and rested your forehead against his looking into his eyes with such a deep admiration for how truly beautiful he was.

“I love you, Bradley.”

And there it was. Those three simple words with the most powerful meaning. Bradley felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs, winded like the time he fell off the slide in his backyard at six years old.

“Say that again.” Bradley murmured, hands tightening their grip on your waist.

“I love you, Bradley. So much.”

And with that, Bradley smashed his lips onto yours in a bruising kiss.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you.” He repeated, over and over again until you were back in your bedroom. Placing you down on your bed, he covered his body with yours. You moaned into the kiss and gasped as he left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. He slipped his hand under the hem of your dress and began toying with the waistband of your underwear, when you sucked in a breath, he stopped immediately, brown eyes searching yours for any kind of discomfort.

“Do you want this? We can stop baby I really don’t mind.”

“No, I want this Bradley, I do.” You said and he made light work of pulling off your dress and ridding himself of his shirt and pants before kissing you again, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling them down your legs. Bradley teased your clit before sinking one of his digits into your soaked pussy and kissing your hip before taking your sensitive bud into his mouth. “Fuck Bradley.” You moaned, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he squeezed your him in a comforting encouragement. Gripping his hair tightly, your climax quickly approaching you moaned loudly “Oh my god I love you Bradley fuck!”

Coming down from your high, Bradley teased your folds with the head of his cock before slowly pushing himself fully into you and you both moaned. “You feel amazing, sweet girl, I love you.” Bradley moaned against your mouth, intertwining his hand with your own before slowly rocking his hips into your own. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and whining and Bradley took a moment to admire how beautiful you looked, the moment was so raw, the only light in the room was the dim glow of the moon which illuminating your features.

It was at this moment that Bradley realised that the confessions of love shared that night were terrifying, and they scared him more than anything else he’s ever experienced in his life. The emotions he felt consumed his body like an entity and he knew that the easiest choice he’s ever made in his life was you. Out of all of the women in this world, he didn’t want anyone else as much as he wanted you, he didn’t need anyone else as much as he needed you. You both spent that night wrapped up in each other, bodies tangled between the sheets in a state of completion, reassurance, and love. There was nothing in the world that could ruin such a deep connection.

For the next three months of the relationship, Bradley knew he could see himself spending the rest of his life with you. Moving in together, he wanted to be your new home. He wanted to build a life with you, make four walls and a roof into something so much more than just a place of residence. He dreamt of waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. He wanted to help you cook your favourite foods together and he wanted to clean the dishes. He wanted to argue over where the candles were kept when there’s a storm and the power goes out. He wanted you to fill him with memories of your own, pictures of your graduation, you most treasured trinkets, the spicy books you read that he pokes fun at you for when you get defensive and say that you don’t read just porn, it has to have a plot.

After years of accepting the fact that he’d be alone because he could never have someone else endure the grief, the pain, and the suffering that he watched his mother go through, he met you, and he was irrevocably and deeply consumed by you. He dreamt of the day you had a child of your own together, the beach days, the baking, the singalongs in the car, babyproofing every corner of the house he wanted that. And he so desperately wanted that with you by his side.

And that’s exactly what you both did. You bought a house together along the coast, one that reminded him exactly of the house that he grew up in, with a big porch and a swing that hung just to the left of the front door. You both packed up your lives into those brown moving boxes, messy handwriting scrawled onto the side of each of them.

Unpacking said boxes in the height of summer was a gruelling task, but one that was made much more enjoyable by the presence of each other ands by the end of the day you both collapsed on the porch swing, happy and content in each other’s arms.

“I’ve never felt as happy anywhere else than when I’m with you sweet girl.” Bradley said, nuzzling his head into your hair, treasuring the scent so not to forget it when he inevitably gets deployed.

“This is our forever baby.” You said intertwining your hand with his as you both sat cuddled up with one another listening to the waves of the ocean crashing and making plans for your future.

Two months settled into your new home with Bradley, two months of the rest of your lives. Lives that entailed lazy Sundays, coffees in the morning, walks along the beach, lingering sweet kisses amid pillow talk and making love – and all things perfect. But also lives that weren’t always bright, lives that held bickering, late night fights over pointless things because you both had tough days at work, misunderstandings, and the challenges of balancing busy days. Some days were filled with bright skies and sunshine, other days filled with dark skies and rain. It wasn’t easy, but you had Bradley and Bradley had you. There was calm and there was chaos, but you had each other to navigate your ways through any problem, together.

But sometimes, the best things in life are short lived.

Bradley spent 190 days with the love of his life.

Standing in the Hard Deck with a bunch of flowers, waiting for you to pull up after work, he fiddled with the ring in his free hand and let out a shaky breath. You hadn’t been in a relationship for a very long time, but they say when you know, you know. And Bradley knew. He knew in his heart without a doubt – even if he couldn’t find the right words, he knew that he fell more in love with you every single day. You were his sun, his moon, and his stars. You were his happiness, his best friend, and the kindest soul he had ever met. Sometimes he wondered if he ever told you enough. You never asked anything of him. You loved Bradley for who he was and never in his 36 years on earth did he ever think that somewhere in this world he would’ve found a heart like yours.

Bradley didn’t get the chance to propose. His time with you was cut short by an alcoholic who made the unwise decision to get behind the wheel of a car and take away not one, but two lives that night.

“Bradley!” You wailed from the top of the stairs. Bradley shot up from his seat on the couch and ran up the stairs tripping several times.

“What is it baby? Are you okay?” He asked, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, not overly concerned when he saw that you were okay.

Looking at him with tears in your eyes, body shaking, and one hand covering your mouth, you raised your other hand to reveal a positive pregnancy test.

“Oh my god, honey, are you – are you sure?” He asked, reaching out to take the test from you to double, triple check.

Nodding your head fervently “I’m absolutely sure, Bradley we’re going to have a baby. Oh god”

Bradley had never been so over the moon. Yes, it was seen as too soon to some, but you couldn’t think of any better blessing, and neither could Bradley. You were both ecstatic and couldn’t wait to start a family together. And that was all taken away from him too soon. He’ll never get to meet his baby. And he wishes, he wishes so hard for the 3am wake up calls for feeds, the dirty diapers, the screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night – all so he can count ten fingers and ten toes, hear that steady heartbeat, and look into the eyes of who he was hoping to be your double. But sometimes life has other plans.

Bradley can’t say he believes he will ever meet another person like you. Someone so full of light even in the darkest of moments. Someone who loved him for him. Someone who would give so much of themselves to others and never complain. Someone who saw the good in everything, saw the good in him.

The one night he’ll remember for the rest of his life, the night you lay in bed together, Bradley’s head resting on your stomach, your hands tracing the patterns of the freckles on his back like a constellation. The two of you dwelling in the afterglow of finding out that you were both going to be bringing a little one of your own into your lives, a mixture of you both, your baby. Bradley was ecstatic but anxious.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand the good that you see in me” He whispered.

“Bradley, its not the good in you that I see, my love. It’s the good that I see in this world when I’m with you, the good that you make me see.”

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. He had spent his whole life trying to push away the idea of love because he believed he would be the reason it wouldn’t work out. He had spent his whole life overcome with the grief that came with losing his parents. And he was okay with being alone, until he met you, an angel he believed his parents sent to him, to walk this earth by his side, for however long it was going to be. And despite his time being cut short with you, he had the most extraordinary and captivating experience of understanding what it’s like to love and be loved.

Taglist:

@aistash

@minichrismd

@roosterforme

@roosterscockpit

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whohasthecards · 5 months

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Just imagining, that in a scenario where Mav adopts Hangman or realizes that Jake is his son and takes him in. And it was rough at first as they get to know one another, the growing pains and all that, but they eventually found stability, strength, and love with one another.

But one day, Hangman did something that scared the shit out of Mav, that pissed him off so badly that he starts berating Hangman, shouting and all that. Hangman and the others have never seen Mav mad often, but Mav was just so terrified.

Jake just stands there jaw clenched, as he took it all. Scared that he fucked it up for good, putting his hands behind his back to make sure that Mav doesn't see them trembling.

Eventually Mav ends with a, "What can you say for yourself, Lieutenant Seresin!?"

And Jake opens and clenches his mouth shut, like a gaping fish, brow furrowed, but eyes looking straight forward, as if he was staring at nothing or at the wall behind Mav. Looking straight ahead, yet no where at the same time.

Everyone waits with baited breathe, waiting for Hangman to fight back, retort, or snap back with snarky comments because it's Hangman.

"I'm sorry, da-" Jake audibly snapped his jaw shut, wincing, "I'm sorry Captain Mitchell, it won't happen again." Jake paused, "I'm sorry." He said the added apology quietly, but it reverberated loudly throughout the room.

Mav took a deep breathe before dismissing all of them, leaving him in the empty classroom to collapse on his desk. Wondering if he had ruined the relationship with the son he just got. Thinking if he could have handled it better. Was his son scared of him, now?

Jake's limbs was heavy as he trudged back to his apartment. He was wracked with guilt, wondering why was he so abrasive, why did he always push, push, and push. Why did he fuck up so constantly. Why was he so Hangman and why couldn't he be better?

He went through the motions of cleaning himself up after he went home and curled up in bed to just, sleep the sadness away.

Mav lugged himself into Ice's office, where his husband was working on his desk and he moves behind his chair and wraps his arms around the man, burying is face in Ice's hair, as if to hide his shame.

"What's wrong, Mav?"

"I-I think I scared, Jake," Mav mumbled. "He couldn't even call me, dad."

Ice pulls the whole story out of Mav before he tries to comfort him saying that he and Jake will work things out. How fathers and sons always will have their ups and downs. Fathers are always scared that their sons will turn out too much like them, after all. Also, they are still captain and lieutenant, Jake was probably trying to keep rank.

The last part even Ice said hesitantly, Mav was never shy about letting his kids call him what they want. Neither was Jake.

"Oh god, I-I left him, Ice, I didn't talk to him, I--"

"Shh, maybe so, but you both needed some space, you can go to him, now, bring him home." Ice said, turning to pull Mav fully in his arms. "Everything will be fine."

Mav ends up outside of Jake's housing. Ice waiting in the car, he knocks. No answer. He knocks again. No answer. He gets worried, checking back to see if Jake's car really was there. He grabs a spare key and opens the door, the apartment eerily quiet.

He never notice how bare the apartment really was, Jake always took a lot of space.

His boots were there, though, so were his car and house keys.

He walked into his son's bedroom, softening at the sight of him curled up in bed. He moved closer sitting on the edge as he ran a hand through his son's hair, frowning at the warmth emanating from the boy's forehead. Although, he did see the boy's face softened.

Jake's eyes fluttered open, blearily peering up at him, "Dad?" He asked softly tugging at Mav's heart, inspiring him to lean down and kiss his forehead.

My son.

"Hey kiddo, you good?"

Jake blinked up at the soft kiss, before the day's events came rushing back to him, "Sir I--"

"You never have to call me, sir, okay? It's fine if you don't want to call me dad," Mav said, choking out the last part. "But, you'll always be my son, even when I'm mad, or even if you are mad, you will always be my son, unless you never want to be again."

Jake stared up, suddenly fully awake before jolting up and quickly wrapping Mav in a tight hug. The angle was awkward, but Mav didn't care. His son was in his arms.

Mav tightened his hold around his boy, cradling his head on the crook of his shoulder. Hushing him softly.

"I'm sorry, dad," Jake muttered.

"It'll be okay, we're okay," Mav muttered, holding his son a bit more tighter.

#fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fandom #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #pete maverick mitchell #mavdad #tom iceman kazansky #ice pops #iceman x maverick #icepops #icemav #father son #found family #for some reason I write more when I have a looming deadline #i am procrastinating so hard right now #but he this is more fun #need some escapism in my life

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oathkeeperoxas · 4 months

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Hello, my friend! 44 or 71 for Icemav, if you're still warming up? <3<3<3

ELWEN yesssss going wild for this one. Forehead press my number 1, you will always be famous to me

71. lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other and barely having enough strength to breathe

The call comes at 6:43pm.

Ice lets it ring for three trills, still in that limbo of not knowing. Dead, or not dead? And the less important question of if the mission was a success or not. These two things are not related to each other. A successful mission could still mean a dead pilot. If that's the case, then he's already living in a world without Maverick Mitchell. If that's the case, then he has five more seconds of not knowing about it, before the knowledge sinks its teeth into him, inescapable.

He picks the phone up. He's has a lifetime of doing the hard work, making the terrible choices that no one else wants to make. He can't avoid this forever, and he wouldn't want to, so he puts the phone to his ear and listens, and when he puts it down he has to lean his elbows onto his desk, face in his hands. Gut swooping like he's just pulled an emergency barrel roll and hadn't had the chance to prepare for it. Sick, like he's grown so used to over his treatment, sick, like he's really going to throw up. But he's had a lot of practice with this too, so he swallows it all down neatly enough. There's still work to do, maybe more work, now that they'll have to switch to soothing Russia's ruffled feathers at having their sovereignty impinged upon. Mav and Bradley won't be back in the country for another day at least. He has plenty to do to fill the time until then.

The seconds tick past, and the minutes dribble through his fingers, and the hour hand on his watch inevitably ticks forward. He gets into a shouting match with the SECDEF and is called into conference with the JCS and watches as updates on the pilots who flew the mission trickle into his inbox. Mav's medical report is last, which means he only nibbles on dinner, a bad habit that Mav would scold him for. Ice would take it, would take any words from him, as long as he he here to speak them.

He works through the night and gets to sleep somewhere about quarter to five, and is back at his computer before ten. Mav's report has come in, and while it doesn't look great, it's not all bad news. He's walking under his own power, and while injured, apparently isn't in too much pain. Ice holds his own reservations about that. Mav's never enjoyed telling an authority figure everything. Ice will get the truth out of him when they see each other next.

All the pilots are in flight back to North Island, which means they're out of contact even if Ice wanted to reach out, which he doesn't. This isn't the first time that Mav has been on a mission and Ice has been able to do nothing but wait for him to come home. He prefers to wait to see Mav in person before they talk to each other. It's better that way.

He fends off orders to fly to Washington, at least delaying until tomorrow or the day after, and makes up for it by sitting on conferences all afternoon while typing away furiously at the dozens of emails that have landed in his inbox. Everything is a flurry of activity, everything needs his attention now, and yet he puts everything aside when he sees that the transport has landed at North Island, and that all the pilots have been taken for debriefing, except for the two who spent time on the ground, who have been shuttled to the base hospital. Ice packs up his laptop and notifies his driver, and is on the road immediately.

He's not in uniform, so manages to fly mostly under the radar until he hits the two Marines standing guard outside Mav's hospital room, who only give way when they recognise him. Ice bids them to wait outside, and closes the door behind him when he enters. There's a curtain that's hiding most of Mav from his sight; the only part of him that Ice can see are his feet, which are bare. His toes are poking out from the side of the blanket that Mav has thrown over him, and Ice is hit with a wave of emotion that's as irrational as it is powerful -- Mav's feet are uninjured. His toes are okay. He can see that. It makes it hard to breathe, and he steadies himself before stepping forward, not wanting to cough and worry his partner. This is not a moment for Mav to be worried about Ice.

"Did you bring me some real clothes?" Mav grumbles. "I'm not wearing this. This is an attack on decency. I'm fine. I don't need to be here. Who do I have to speak to, to go home?"

Ice closes his eyes and musters himself after that volley. Then he moves forward under full sail, to stand at the end of Mav's bed and lay a hand on his ankle.

"I didn't bring you any clothes," Ice rumbles, voice hoarse from all the speaking he's been putting it through today. "And you can come home when the doctors say you can leave."

"Ice," Mav says, eyes wide, and Ice can't stay away from him anymore. Mav is already struggling to sit up, and Ice sits on the bed and ropes his arms around him, lashing them together. Mav makes a low sound, torn somewhere from deep in his chest, and presses their heads against each other. Ice tilts them so their foreheads are together, noses and mouths close, breathing the same air. "Ice," Mav repeats, desperate, and Ice wants to squeeze him and never let him go for scaring Ice so badly, for coming to him in the first place and asking to do this, for daring to get shot down and for making Ice receive the news that he's dead, only to be told that he'd pulled off the impossible--

Ice presses a palm to Mav's neck to feel his pulse, and they're both gasping against each other, clinging like they're at sea and the other is their lifeboat. Like lovers to be parted on the morrow. Like they'll never get another day quite like this one.

"You scared the shit out of me," Ice manages, and Mav barks a laugh through his tears.

"You're telling me," Mav manages, cupping a hand on Ice's cheek and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. "I was pretty scared myself."

"The kid?" Ice asks.

"He's better than me. Young bones, and all that."

Ice can hardly breathe. He pulls away to clear his throat, and then comes back to lay his head on Mav's shoulder and press his face into Mav's throat. Mav's hand rests on the back of his neck. There's still so much to do. Ice can feel the weight of his emails piling up in his inbox. But he can put off making the hard decisions for an hour. He can let himself be human for an hour. Mav's arms have the power to protect him. He hasn't lost that privilege. He hasn't lost Mav.

"If you think I'm letting you do anything like that ever again--"

Mav laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I used that one favour up. Won't happen again. We're even now -- how about we don't do that to each other again, yeah?"

It's good he's sitting down. The dizzying relief would have forced him to anyway. He lays a kiss over Mav's pulse.

"I don't think cancer and flying into a deathtrap are particularly equivalent," Ice grits out. "But I'm willing to overlook that if you are."

Mav cradles him gently, laying kisses against his crown. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Ice sighs and sits up. "Are you okay?" he asks. "I know you've been lying to try and get out of here faster."

Mav sniffs, pretending to be offended. "They're not falling for it," he says plaintively.

"Good. Start telling them how you really feel. I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon."

"Yeah?" Mav asks, looking up at him.

"Yeah," Ice says softly. "Gotta keep an eye on my troublemakers."

Mav's eyes crinkle into his familiar smile, and Ice is home, home, home.

A hundred different kisses prompt list

#cyclone is keeping everyone inside today so writing time #icemav #iceman #maverick #top gun #tg #mine #my writing #forehead to forehead really be my number 1 weakness and yes i blame robin hobb for it

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