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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 8 months

Note

Could you describe how you see some of the creeps' rooms? Like what they havein there or if their roms are messy or always clean? :)

I decided that for this one, I would do my most popular creeps, if you or anyone else reading would like more headcanons on different creeps, let me know and i will be happy to!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

Toby's room is located on the third floor of the mansion/manor (havent decided which one i like better) and is the third door on the left

His door doesn't really have anything fancy on it, it is a simple wooden door with his name on a bronze plate, just like the rest of the creeps

His room has a very grunge-esc and indie vibe to it

His bed is a twin sized bed, with a deep brown comforter, faded yellow sheets and two pillows with no pillowcases on them

He has 2 squishmellows, the hamster and the mango, they sit on his bed, and when he sleeps he uses one as an additional pillow, and the other one he hugs tightly to his chest

He has a lot of tapestries, and not many posters

He has posters for the beetles, fleetwood mac, and ozzy osbourne, and they are all on the wall above his bed

The rest of the tapestries are generic designs with skeletons and stars

He has a small couch under the window of his room, that has a small purple blanket thrown over the top of the couch

He has a lot of fake plants and vines in his room, because he can't take care of real plants to save his life

He has a wooden desk, and on that desk he has his laptop, headphones, tablet, hairspray, books, and writing utensils

Amongst those other things, he also has a few dishes on his desk

He uses his closet as a makeshift house for animals he finds (often possums and raccoons) so that he can help them return to full health, before setting them free once more

However, he does have 3 pet raccoons that just kept on coming back after he set them free, so he just kind of uses his closet for them

His clothes are stored on a clothing rack next to his couch

He has one nightstand on the left side of his bed, where he keeps his phone, charger, and in the drawer, he has spare masks, gloves, medications, and bandages/bandaids

He has a tv in his room, on the wall in front of his bed

All things considered, his room isnt too messy, he has a few dirty clothes here and there, and a few dishes, but it's not terrible

Masky

His room is on the third floor, and is the second door on the right

His door is also not decorated, just a simple wooden door with his name on a bronze plate

His room reeks of cigarettes

His bed is right under his window, it is queen sized and is the first thing you see as you open his door

He has basic white sheets, pillows with basic white pillowcases, and a basic brown comforter

He has a desk on the wall to the left of his bed, where he keeps books, notebooks, writing utensils, and his laptop

Next to his desk, he has an array of weapons

Guns, knifes, crossbows, etc

He has them displayed on the wall, he absolutely just stares at them from time to time, very proud of them

He doesn't have many decorations, but he does have a few trinkets Toby and Sally have given him

He has two nightstands, one has a lamp and the book hes reading, and the other has an ashtray and his current pack of cigarettes

In the drawers he has his medications, and his reading glasses (he refuses to accept the fact he's old, be nice to him about the glasses)

The jacket he normally wears is almost always thrown over his desk chair, ready for it to be used the next day

His closet is only really halfway full, so he uses the other half to store his pajamas, socks and underwear

He has a bunch of records and loves to play them

Takes him back to the good ol days

He is probably the second cleanest on this list

Eyeless Jack

His bedroom is on the second floor, and is the first door to your left

His door has been painted black and his entire room is soundproof

The black door is partly because he just likes it that way and partly to differentiate himself from Laughing Jack, which both door plates just read "Jack"

He has a twin sized bed with grey sheets and pillowcases, and a black comforter

His windows are covered by blackout curtains, making his room one of the darkest

Next to his bed, he has a nightstand with a lamp

Thats the only light source he allows

On the other side of his bed, there is a book cart with books (duh) and a few plants

He also has a bookshelf, but all of the books on the shelf are strictly educational books (studies on anatomy, different illnesses for different creatures, etc)

His desk has his laptop, tablet and a stack of notebooks, all full with his neat handwriting and labled with different things

He doesnt have many decorations in his room, but he does have some framed pictures of his friends from around the mansion

He also has a mini fridge with his stash of fresh food, it is kept clean and is restocked once every 2 weeks

He keeps his room spotless, no dust on anything, bed always made, etc

Definetly the cleanest on this list, if not in the entire house

Jeff

Jeff's room is on the second floor, and is the second door on the left

His door is very much decorated with crime scene tape, a stop sign and a small band poster

His room is very dirty, clothes, trash and dishes are strewn about the room, with a small path from his door to his bed

He has a twin sized bed (if you can even call it that) it is a worn out matress on the floor, with no sheets, pillows without a pillowcase, and a black comforter

He has a nightstand with his vape, medications and phone on it

He has a desk with a pc, nintendo switch, hairspray and makeup but he doesn't really sit at his desk much

His walls are completely covered in band posters, pride flags, road signs, and of course, his tv

He has an electric guitar, but he doesn't play it much

He only knows how to play MSI songs, but he is suprisingly good at them

He has a mannequin in his room as well, "Lucy", he named her, she is missing a leg, and four of her fingers on her left hand, jeff has stuck a knife through her eye and placed stickers over where her nipples would be as makeshift pasties

It is a running joke that Lucy is Jeff's one true love, but they have to keep their love a secret because people wouldn't understand them being together

BEN even bought lucy a cheap wig off of amazon, which sits crooked and tangled on her head

Lucy holds Jeff's bags, and his knives

His room doesn't exactly smell bad, but it doesn't smell pleasent

0/10 PLEASE DO NOT GO IN THERE WHATEVER YOU DO, YOU WILL BE MUTATED

BEN

He is on the third floor, and is the third door on the right

His door is a simple wooden door with a bronze plate that says his name

His bed is very low, almost touching the floor

There are no sheets, no pillowcases and a basic blue comforter

He has LED lights on the ceiling, which are almost always turned green

His desk has a full gaming set up, double moniters, and LED headphones, keyboard and mouse

Behind all of that, he has his hairspray, deodorant, and nintendo switch OLED

On the wall in front of his bed, his tv is mounted, under his tv he has a ps5, an xbox1 and an n64

He also has a small bookshelf where he stores all of his physical game copies

He has a bunch of blue light tapestries, almost all of them have at least one skeleton on it

He also has some posters for his favorite animes and video games (Black butler, one piece, the occassional hatsune miku poster...)

SPEAKING OF HATSUNE MIKU

He is throughly obsessed with her

He has a bunch of figurines he keeps around his gaming set up, he has a hatsune miku plush that sits on his shelf of video games, and he also bought a miku body pillow "as a joke"

And you better believe he has a few t-shirts

He keeps the body pillow stuffed under his bed, away from anyone who could possibly see her

I wouldn't say he classifies as a weeb, but he's definitely up there in the ranks

He also has a snack cart by his pc set up, one tier with drinks, the other two with snacks like chips, cookies, pastries, etc

As for cleanliness, i would say he isnt too dirty

He has a few dirty dishes on his desk, a few dirty shirts and hoodies here and there but other than that, his room is pretty clean

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theloveoftoms · 1 year

Text

one hell of a pilot - maverick x reader

summary: after a recent breakup, your long-time friend goose suggests you join him and the others at a bar off base. maverick and you forge a meaningful connection <3

a/n: hello babes, guess who's back from her far too long hiatus, this girl! I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy, I know writing it was a blast! I have my poetry final today, so wish me luck lolz. have a great day :)) - xoxo mac

wordcount: 4.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, shitty ex-boyfriend, language ;0

Today had been a rough day. Training at Top Gun had increased to a new level of difficulty. With each new assignment and flight training demanding a new level of grit and determination to accomplish. And it certainly didn’t help that your heart was still in the process of mending from the pain caused by your most recent boyfriend, well, now I suppose, ex-boyfriend.

The day at Top Gun was finally over, and the thought of coming home to your single-unit pleased you in the moment, but you knew damn well, that the second you got back to your apartment, the dread of it all would sink in.

So, after a shower, and a luke-warm beer that you had forgotten to put in the refrigerator, you found yourself perched on the arm of your living room couch, fiddling with the remote that never seemed to work, but probably just needed batteries. You found some shitty action movie on tv and ate a plate of strawberries as the sound of fast cars and men with Floridan accents became a comforting lull in the background.

Your night, or at least how you had planned it, would consist of, 1) the second half of this shitty movie 2) the leftover chicken quesadilla you had waiting for you in the refrigerator and 3) the cheap thriller novel that you had found at the drugstore last week. What you didn’t anticipate happening, was the doorbell ringing promptly at nine, just after you had finished your dinner.

So, you pulled yourself up from the couch, and on the way to the door, when you passed a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror, you debated grabbing a cardigan or a blanket or something to cover up your sloppy look. You were wearing a navy-branded t-shirt (courtesy of your days at the academy), and pair of biker shorts that appeared to be non-existent as they hid beneath the excess material of the mens tripple-XL shirt. But the closer you got to the door, the further that thought was in your mind, and you decided, that whoever was on the other side of the door would just have to deal with your post-work image.

“y/l/n,” Goose stated confidently, a hand resting on his hip, “you busy tonight?”

Your posture relaxed when you realized who it was; the man you practically grew up with.

You deadpanned and gestured to yourself, “does it look like I’m busy Bradshaw?”

Goose shrugged, not entirely sure how to reply to that retort of yours.

“What do you need Goose?” You asked nonchalantly, both wanting and not-wanting to get back inside to the comforts of your sofa.

“A couple of the guys and I are going to grab drinks at the Duke and I was wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

You gestured to yourself again, “Does it look like I’m fit to go to a bar Nick?”

“It looks like you need a pair of fuckin pants,” he said jokingly, which earned a slap to his bicep.

“I know things haven’t been great for you lately y/n,” Goose said, “with Brett and all.”

Brett. Just hearing his name brought an unwanted surge of pain through your chest. Specifically, the surge of pain that you had been trying to push away for the past couple of weeks. You didn’t cry about him anymore, in the daytime that is. But at night, when you would lie in bed beneath the darkness of the moon, missing the presence of having someone to curl into, the tears would come, and they would temporarily make an impression on your pillowcase. But as you slept it off, the tears would dry, and you would wake up the next morning feeling mostly okayish.

“And I think,” Goose said, bringing you back into reality from the facade of memories that you had been reminiscing upon within your mind just then, “if you came out with us tonight, you’d have more fun than you would here,” he said, gesturing to your townhome, “spilling a tub of ice cream all over yourself while you sit alone with the lights off.”

Way harsh Goose, you thought to yourself. But he did have a point. You hadn’t been out in forever. The last time you actually went and got drinks like a proper twenty-something-year-old was with your parents when you relocated to San Diego for your position in Top Gun. And that was just at some locally owned Mexican restaurant that happened to have a bar inside. Maybe it would be good to get back out there?

You rolled your eyes, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

So, as Goose, your childhood best friend stood in your kitchen, washing the plate you had used to eat your chicken quesadilla, you were busy in your room getting yourself ready for the evening. You dressed yourself in a lacey black tank top that looked only slightly like lingerie, but didn’t if you wore it tucked into a pair of straight-cut jeans and wore it alongside a pair of low beige heels. As you ran a comb through your wavy hair, you couldn’t help but stare at yourself in the mirror.

Sure, it was a pretty typical outfit that other young women of your age wore when they went out for drinks, but it was cute. And it did provide you with the security of looking just like every other woman. Thats exactly what you wanted to appear to be; just like every other woman. Brett had dumped you because you weren’t ready to settle down with him. You weren’t ready to move in, you weren’t ready for marriage, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for children. Brett wanted you to finish up Top Gun and then lie low for a while, putting your career aside. “Be realistic,” Brett had said, “This pilot shit can’t last forever. Maybe look at getting a different job, one thats more feminine?”

Your career was very important to you. You had worked so hard to climb the latter that that is the United States Navy. Your career was the highlight of your life. It was everything you had ever worked towards. And you weren’t going to give that up. And as much as you hated to admit, the reason of your recent break-up, had been affecting your ego ever so slightly.

So tonight, as you admired your curves in the mirror, and put on some mascara, you told yourself that you were just like every other woman.

…

“This better be worth it,” you grumbled, shutting the door to Goose’s Bronco, scanning the beach-side dive bar with your eyes.

Off in the distance, the evening tangerine hue was beginning to creep up and onto the horizon, putting the day to sleep in preparation for the night. And alongside the dimming of the evening, the neon lights of the dive bar became more welcoming.

The Duke, the off-base bar that Goose had insisted you join him and the others at, was the kind of place that had charm, but only if you knew where to look for it. It was the kind of place with neon lights and drinks that were both cheap and good. It was the kind of place that people came to forget about the day they had just had. Thats what you wanted. And the aura of the loud music coming from the bar would sure help with that.

“Trust me, y/n,” Goose reassured you, responding to your question, “it will be.”

You wanted to believe Goose, you really did. And the moment you saw the table of guys that you’ve began to come to know as your group of friends, the night already seemed better.

“Look who made it!” Iceman said as you approached the table, making you feel welcome, “Its good to see you Cobra,” he said, calling you by your call sign.

You smiled and as you took a seat at one of the empty chairs, saying your ‘hellos’ to the other classmates that were here. And at the end of the table was no other than Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell – perhaps, your greatest competitor – sitting laxly with a beer in his hands and his regular leather jacket draped around his chair.

Damn he had nice arms.

“Evening Cobra,” he said to you, leaning back ever so slightly in a way that seemed to be slightly too confident.

“Maverick,” you offered as a form of pleasantry.

Slider, who was busy looking at the drink menu slapped it down on the counter, pointing to one item in particular. “Now this,” he said, his finger drawn to a platter of five tequila shots, “this is what we need to get things going.”

So, as soon as a one of the circulating waitresses happened to be walking by your table, she wrote down, and then brought over the collective order of your table, the night certainly got a whole lot more exciting.

“Alright,” Goose said, handing you your stalky shot glass of 100% pure tequila, complete with a rim of salt and an accompanying lime, “To good times,” he said nodding.

“Good times,” you repeated along with the others, before drawing the glass to your mouth, tasting the dryness of the salt right before proceeding to take the shot.

The warmth of the alcohol tricked down your throat as you swallowed, and you forgot just how strong shots could be. You weren’t sure if swallowing it as quickly as possible made the uncomfortable sensation better or worse, but as soon as the clear liquid was all emptied from your glass, you jammed the lime into your mouth and squinted your eyes shut as a way to combat the sensation. You weren’t the only one. It seemed everyone at your table, was just to realizing how strong Slider’s chosen shots were.

“Shit,” Goose groaned, setting his glass down on the table, “And you enjoy these Slider?”

Slider shrugged, grinning, “Its awful right now, but hey, come ten minutes, you’ll feel real great.”

Opening one of the beers on the table, you rolled your eyes Sliders comment, “It’ll take more than that,” you sarcastically groaned to Goose who was seated beside you.

“What was that y/n?” Iceman asked.

You shook your head, “Ah, it was nothing.”

“Do I hear you wanting to go for a round two?”

Now, a sensible you would have said no. But since it was Friday night, you wouldn’t have to get up early tomorrow for class. And its not like you had any other plans for the day besides catching up on some paperwork and going on your usual walk. So for once in your life, you threw caution to the wind and agreed, “You got it Ice.”

So, naturally, when your platter of shots arrived, you passed them out, handing each one of the guys their respective glasses with a smirk.

“Maverick,” you said charmingly – gee, thanks alcohol – and you tried to avoid the warm feeling in your chest when your slender fingers skimmed against Maverick’s as you handed him the glass.

“Three, two, one,” you counted down, giving yourself, and possibly the rest of your group, the mental preparation prior to that same burning sensation that would wreak havoc in your mouth prior to swallowing and quickly placing the lime in your mouth.

There was a collective groan from your table as the five shot glasses returned to their small cedar serving plank.

You laughed, washing down the remaining remnants of the uncomfortable taste with the beer you had ordered. “I am not doing that again.”

So, for the next while, as the effects of the alcohol began to make itself present in your body, you sat at the table, just chatting and hanging out with your classmates, sharing stories from your lives before the navy. And while the five of you talked, you couldn’t help but stare at the opposite end of the table where Maverick was seated.

Sure, naturally, prior to this evening, you had realized that Maverick was attractive, but being in a relationship with someone didn’t really allow you to fully appreciate his beauty. With his dark hair, carelessly brushed in an effortlessly windswept way atop of his head, and his oceanic eyes, that in some lights appeared green, and in others, appeared to be almost blue.

Physically, he was gorgeous, but your past interactions with him intrigued you to what it would be like to know him. He had an ego, one that was strong and unaffected, but there was something about his drive, about his reach, about the passion he put into everything he did. You couldn’t help but wonder if one knew him intimately, if he would pursue them with the same passion and drive.

The thought cleared from your mind when his eyes met yours, making you look away, and ultimately force yourself to think of something other than the man that is Maverick.

You hadn’t noticed, but with the loss of your collective sobriety that each one of you can your friends had came in with, the music in the dive bar began to form a sound for itself. The radio collection, of rock, and pop, and some hard core groovy songs had elevated in loudness, so much so, that in a section of the bar a cluster of people had begun to dance among the cleared spot in the building.

“Do you guys see that?” Slider asked, his face drawn in a grin.

You turned in your chair, studying the dancers with your eyes, then turning back to face the table, “What?” You asked.

“That blonde over there,” Slider said, “She’s giving me some serious fuck me eyes.”

Hearing those words come out of your classmates mouth nearly made you choke on your beer, you weren’t expecting that.

“Wanna join me Ice?” Slider asked, “She’s got friends.”

You rolled your eyes as the two of them as they both threw themselves out of their seats and leisurely sauntered over to the dance floor.

“Anything to get laid,” Goose muttered jokingly when the two men began to sway to the beat of the music not quite beside, but very much near the two women.

“You could probably meet someone out there Cobra,” Goose said, more directly to you.

You scanned the crowd again, “I’m not too sure if I want to,” you gestured to the men, “they all look like their mothers still pick out their clothes for them.”

Maverick snorted from his spot over across the table, “She’s got a point Nick.”

You turned to face Maverick and flashed him a grin, “see, someone gets me!”

Goose shook his head, trying to hide his smile before saying, “I’m going to go give Carol a call, I promised I’d call her tonight. You two try and stay out of trouble,” he said, lecturing the two of you like children.

Seemingly the moment Goose left the table, Maverick’s gaze met yours. You were usually fine with eye connate, but there was something about the way that Maverick’s enchanting green eyes were staring into your own that made you feel both nervous and calm at the same time. You weren’t too sure what to say, or what the two of you could talk about, so as a way of diverting the imminence of your conversation, you took another drink of your beer, which only provided a moment relief where you weren’t required to think of what to say.

“You dance?” He asked you, the comment coming out of nowhere.

You shook your head, “I can sort-of dance, but I don’t that often,” you told him unsure of why you chose to tell him that. “And you?” You asked him back.

Maverick shook his head grinning, “not really my thing either.”

And then from across the room you heard a voice of familiarity, and right away you knew who it belonged to. Brett. Your ex-boyfriend Brett. The man who broke your heart Brett.

As much as you didn’t want to turn around, and face the man who had told you to take a step down from your career, your suspicions got the best of you, and as much as you didn’t wish to see him, there was some sort of burning panic in your chest that wouldn’t be fulfilled if you didn’t turn in your seat.

There he was. Standing tall, with his sandy hair, and well sculpted physique, whispering tiny inaudible thoughts into the ear of a woman with bleach blonde hair. Your eyes met his, and suddenly you wanted to leave. You wanted a sinkhole to come up into the bar and swallow you whole. And the moment Brett flashed you a grin, one that said, this is my new woman, you jealous? You felt the desire, no, the need to get out of the bar. You weren’t ready to face all of this just yet.

But time doesn’t always work in your favour. And so the moment Brett walked over to your table, his arm linked tightly around the slender waist of the bleach blonde woman, you weren’t too sure what to do.

Brett smiled in the kind of way that reminded you of what it was like to know him, before spewing out pleasantries and introducing the woman known as Crystal who was joined at his hip. “Its good to see you out y/n,” he said coyly, and in that moment, a ping of hatred found its way through your heart, how had you ever been with this man.

But instead of telling him off, as much as you wanted to, you smiled bluntly, your eyes revealing your true nature, “And its good to see you indulging in pleasures other than morning runs and cheap beer from the gas station.”

As Crystal gave you a dirty look, Maverick snorted before walking over to your end of the table and putting an arm around your chair, “I think its time for you to be on your way man,” he said to Brett.

Brett shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “I was just coming by to say hello,” before he walked away, his hand moving down from Crystals waist circulating above her ass. Good riddance Brett!

You turned to Maverick, flashing him a gentle smile, “thanks for that Mav,” before pausing and looking to the door, “if you don’t mind, I think I just need some air.”

And without protest, you pushed yourself up from your seat, and tried to compose yourself as the night time air hit your face. You felt warm – thanks to the alcohol – but the coldness felt lovely on your skin. You felt refreshed, cleansed almost.

On the opposite side of the Duke, was the sandy beach leading up to the ocean, which now, in the dark of night, was illumined by nearby houses and buildings, and the light of the moon reflected calmly on the waters. You decided to walk onto the sand, removing your heels from your feet and letting the now-cold sand wiggle around your toes as you walked, until you found a spot within the sand to take a seat.

Gosh, the one person you didn’t want to see tonight was Brett, and surely enough, he was there. You hated that you saw him, and you hated that you weren’t quite over him yet. Naturally, things would take time, you just wanted to get through that as quick as you could.

Behind you, you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, which made you turn, your awareness of your surroundings coming into a fuller passage.

It was Maverick, waking slowly towards you through the sand. “Mind if I sit?” He asked.

You gestured to the available ground beside yourself, “by all means, be my guest.”

You didn’t really feel like you wanted company, but then again, it was Maverick, only Maverick, and you didn’t want to turn him away after he had stood up for you back there.

And as soon as Maverick sat down beside you, the warmth and familiarity of his scent filed your way through the air, a blend of sandalwood and citrus, and cedar, and near-summer nights, you found yourself relax a bit in his presence.

For a while, the two of you just sat there beneath the moonlight in one another's company, just listening to the sound of the waves upon the shore. It was peaceful.

“So that was him?” He finally asked you.

You nodded, turning your face ever so slightly to face him, “that was Brett, the Marine.”

Maverick nodded, “Goose told me about him,” he paused, “he seems like an ass.”

You chuckled, not too sure why, “you’re right about that.”

You weren't too sure how much of your failed relationship you wanted to share with your friend. You and Maverick weren't particularly close, but the two of you obviously cared about one another.

“I just hate,” you sighed, “I hate how when I was with him, I didn’t even realize how big of a dick he could be.”

Maverick looked over to you, as if he knew you were going to say more.

“He told me to give up my career after I’m done at Top Gun,” you said, feeling a sense of relief by telling someone else about the matter, “He wanted to get married, and have kids, and he wanted me to follow him wherever he went.”

Maverick scoffed.

“And its not that I even hate that that’s what he wanted, I hate that part of me, a very, very, small part of me, considered it. And sometimes, all I can do if worry about if I made the right decision, and walked away from him, from that life for the one Ive worked so hard for.”

Maverick shook his head, and in a more quiet tone, he turned to face you, “don't ever doubt yourself like that. Ever.”

You looked away from him, feeling some warm sensation in your chest, but when Maverick resumed to speak, you had no other choice but to turn back to face the brunette.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, “Its in your blood, its in your veins, its who you are. And you’re damn good at it. Hell, somedays I wish I was nearly as good as you. You fly with so much precision and drive and when you're up there, I only wish I could have a fraction of whatever it is that you do, because you are just so so good at it.”

You looked back to Maverick, noticing the soften in his usual expression. His moonlight eyes were on you, and only you.

“And if you ever think you would be better off with some dick like Brett, you’re wrong, because someone who loves you, shouldn’t hold you back from your potential, they should push you, they should inspire you to do better, to be better, to become better.”

For a while, the two of you just sat in silence, absorbing the pure intimacy of one another's gaze. You hadn’t realized how cold it was beginning to get because you were too busy thinking about what Maverick had just said. You didn’t realize the trail of goosebumps that had found their way across both of your arms, the cool night time air that brushed against them. But Maverick did.

Maverick slipped his arms out of his leather jacket, and draped it around your shoulders, a peaceful expression on his face. “Here,” he said, dawning the jacket, the very one that smelt so much like him it made you relax, “Its not super warm, but its better than nothing.”

When the warmth returned to your arms, almost the minute you gathered the material around yourself, your thoughts were finally gathered back into your head. You turned to Maverick, your knee brushing up against his faintly, but just enough that you were aware of its presence, and the way in which the faint warmth radiated through the fabric of both his jeans and yours, until you became hyperaware of its presence, and gave him a soft smile. “Thank you,” you told him.

“For the jacket,” you said, pulling the leather closer to your chest, “and for what you said. No one has ever told me that before.” You paused a moment, “it means a lot.”

Maverick’s expression softened and he looked at you contently, “its the truth,” he said softly.

You leaned into him, your head now resting on his shoulder, you felt a sense of peace, a sense of relief, you felt relaxed in Maverick’s presence. And when he leant his head, gently atop of yours, you knew that what Maverick had said was genuine.

And so, like you had initially thought, when Goose suggested the idea of going to a bar, you thought you would have maybe made one or two bad decisions, maybe choosing to kiss a man with far too much tongue, or follow him home. But what had ended up amounting from the evening was far better. You made a real connection, with someone who you would later find out, would become well worth you time.

That was the night you had met Maverick for the second time. The night when the two of you forged a connection one that even time wouldn’t be able to take away.

#top gun #maverick #pete maverick mitchell #lt pete mitchell #goose #maverick x goose #maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #iceman #tom iceman kazansky #slider #maverick x reader #maverick x y/n #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #nick bradshaw

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sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

Sailor-Aviator's Playlist Writing Challenge

Hello, hello!! Welcome back to another writing challenge! This one also had a lot of votes in the poll I posted, so I figured why not go ahead and release it?

The Concept

I have what some might call an eclectic music taste. What does that mean? I like a bit of just about everything! So, I compiled a list of songs from my playlists that I thought might make good fanfic inspiration! As with my Christmas Challenge, there will be a limited number of spots for each song! Just send me a DM/ask telling me which song you'd like to choose and for which Top Gun character you'd like to write for!

The Rules

You may sign up for more than one slot as long as there are slots available. However, you can not take up two slots for the same song.

Tag your fics appropriately! (Angst, smut, fluff, warnings, etc.)

18+ ONLY!

This can be a series, a one-shot, moodboards, or even a collection of drabbles! Just have fun with it!

You MUST use your song in some way in the fic. For example, if your song is Two Doors Down by Dolly Parton, then you could write about going to a party or about being a Dagger's neighbor.

HAVE FUN!!!

This writing challenge will not have a time limit, and you can sign up whenever you want! When you are finished (or started the series/collection), you can shoot me the link so I can tag it below. Also, please tag me in the fic and tag the challenge! The more the merrier! Now, there are some popular artists on here, but I encourage EVERYONE to listen to ALL the songs before making your decisions!! I will add more songs if I need to as well!

Tagging a couple of mutuals who I think would be interested: @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @jupitercomet @seresinhangmanjake @number-0-iz

The Playlist

Songs below the cut!

Two Doors Down by Dolly Parton

@aworldinsideaperson w/ Jake Seresin

@alegendoftomorrow w/ the Dagger Squad

Ends of the Earth by Lord Huron

alegendoftomorrow w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Work Song by Hozier

@devil-angel-winchester w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Darling by Halsey

@goldenseresinretriever w/ Tom Kazansky

The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens

Stolen by Dashboard Confessional

Youth by Troye Sivan

Get on the Road by Tired Pony

Littlething by Jimmy Eat World

The Saltwater Room by Owl City

Enchanted by Taylor Swift

@shinycupcakebaker w/ Bob Floyd

@seresinsbrat w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Georgia by Vance Joy

I'll Be by Edwin McCain

@powellssugarbaby w/ Jake Seresin

@sweetwhispersofchaos w/ Bob Floyd

Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar

New Religion by The Heydaze

@aworldinsideaperson w/ Bradley Bradshaw

alegendoftomorrow w/ Jake Seresin

She Burns by Foy Vance

Shrike by Hozier

Dancing With the Devil by Short Stack

Like Real People Do by Hozier

Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON

Bright by Echosmith

Someone to You by BANNERS

WILD by Troye Sivan

Stay With Me by ayokay

Iris by Jada Forcer

goldenseresinretriever w/ Tom Kazansky

Sunshine by Short Stack

Tell Her You Love Her by Echosmith

aworldinsideaperson w/ Bradley Bradshaw

alegendoftomorrow w/ Bob Floyd

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac

Too Late to Turn Back Now by Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose

Leather and Lace by Stevie Nicks

Mine by Taylor Swift

@bellaireland1981 w/ Bradley Bradshaw

alegendoftomorrow w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Burn You Down by Short Stack

Jolene by Dolly Parton

@dingochef w/ Jake Seresin

Pretty Carolina by Jontha Links

Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

aworldinsideaperson w/ Bob Floyd

Style by Taylor Swift

Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift

You and Me by Lifehouse

@bobgasm w/ Bob Floyd

seresinsbrat w/ Jake Seresin

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

aworldinsideaperson w/ (TBD)

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

Note

Could you write a crossover story featuring Beau/Ally and Harm/Savanna?

Tagging: @kmc1989 @keyweegirlie @snowlover250 @kenbechillin @@too-strong-to-lose @buckysteveloki-me @sca3a @flopiboni @secretsquirrelinc @@sportslovers-world @burningpeachpuppy @mandy426 @@al-lethan @thiashazzywriting @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @imaginecrushes @flrboyd @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @crimeshowjunkie @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @penguin876 @deliriousfangirl61 @goosterroose @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @marshmallowflufffox @whateversomethingbruh @4everademigod @notanotherpotter @yousigned-upforthis @silversprings-mp3

Ladies and gents we got ourselves a crossover! Refs to both Ally's career in JAG and Beau being a flyboy.

It’s in a park by The Naval Yard that Mac first sees Harm again. It’s been nine years since she last laid eyes on him and he still looks as handsome as the day he packed his bag and walked out the door. He’s standing alongside the coffee kiosk, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark overcoat as he surveys the menu board fixed the outer wall.

She doesn’t expect to see him back in Washington DC, the last she heard he was seeing a girl down in New Orleans, spending all his shore leave celebrating Jazzfest and Madri Grais. That man, she’d thought at the time, he’ll never grow up.

She hasn’t had a single successful relationship since she left Harmon Rabb and she blames him for that. She blames him for a lot of things. The two of them had made a pact when they’d flipped that coin, he was supposed to stay out of the service, live life as a civilian in San Diego. They’d get married, have a couple of kids.

It had worked for a while but then he’d run into Ally again and it had all started to fall apart. The Admiral's Wife, Mac calls her, because she’d married Beau Simpson a decade ago, the rear admiral in charge of the Top Gun program.

Harm had been her mentor when she was coming up through JAG. He’s walked her down the aisle when she had married Beau at sunset in Cape Rey. Mac remembers she’d been a ferocious little thing, tenacious and fierce in the face of adversity. She packed a hell of a punch in the court room. Mac should know, she’d run up against her a couple of times since taking the promotion in San Diego.

“She’s as good as you.” Mac had told Harm over dinner one night. “And just as infuriating.”

“No.” Harm had responded, sipping from his beer bottle. “She’s better.”

It was Ally that had urged Harm to rejoin the Navy, her and Beau. Mac couldn’t see how unhappy he was at the time, she hadn’t understood it, not really. She remembers the day he’d come home from the airfield, eyes bright with exhilaration. He’d been out flying again with Beau, the two of them were like boys with toys once they got up in the sky. Testing boundaries, playing wargames, showing off. He always ended up at their home afterwards, talking cases over dinner with Ally or swapping war stories with Beau. He would come home with a smile on his face, smelling of cigar smoke, tasting of whiskey.

“I’m re-enlisting.” He’s told her that night after he stepped out of the shower. “It’s a different commission from JAG, it won’t mess up our agreement.”

He was wrong, it had been the end of everything. The posting that Beau had offered him meant he was away on aircraft carriers for six months out of the year, flying jets and sailing ships, the two things he loved most in the world.

Mac had hated him for that, she hated Beau and Ally for giving him that option because now she was the one left behind. The lonely one, the sad one.

It had lasted one deployment.

By the time the next one came up, it was over.

It was a way of punishing him at the time, she’d expected him to resign his commission, come back with his tail between his legs, but he hadn’t. He’d packed a bag instead and gone to stay with Ally and Beau before shipping out to the USS Allegiance, she hadn’t seen him since. She’d heard stories over the years from mutual friends, places he’d been, women he was seeing. He’d become the Harm she used to know, the one without ties or commitments.

She had always believed they would find their way back to each other. Nine years and thousands of miles later, it’s finally happening on a rainy day in Washington DC.

She doesn’t realise how wrong she is, not until she sees you. You’re hurrying towards him, gesturing with your hands, your voice full of apology. He smiles then, and it’s that smile that completely obliterates her. She’s never seen him smile like that, not in all the years she’s known him.

You’re nothing special, not really. She’d call you pretty as opposed to beautiful, a step down from the women he usually covets. You aren’t military, she can tell from your walk, but you carry, she can see it in the way your coat drapes. Law enforcement then, she assumes. Most likely NCIS.

Strong women, she recalls. That’s what Harm’s attracted to, strong capable women.

It’s when he kisses you, she knows that it’s real. When he cradles your face between his large hands, there’s such tenderness in his expression. He looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world and her heart just breaks. He’s loved before, she realises in that moment but he’s never been in love, not until you.

Her eyes start to sting because for all these years she’s clung to this hope, this stupid ridiculous dream that the two of them were meant for each other. She’d imagined that they’d bump into one another, their eyes would lock and it would be like it was back then. Nights filled with fire and passion, their days adventure and laughter.

That life, it isn’t a reality anymore.

It’s clear that Harm’s moved on and it’s time that Mac does too.

Love Harm? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#beau simpson #beau simpson x reader #beau simpson x you #top gun maverick #harmon rabb jr #harmon rabb jr x reader #harmon rabb jr x you #harmon rabb #harmon rabb x reader #harmon rabb x you #harm rabb #harm rabb x you #harm rabb x reader #jag series #ncis los angeles #ncis la

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mistydeyes · 10 months

Text

Some very American (and asshole) things about Graves

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: Phillip Graves is 1. an asshole and 2. very American so here's some headcanons about him.

pairing: Phillip Graves x himself (fucking narcissist)

warnings: SWEARING

a/n: lol I have a love hate relationship with Graves so this was fun to write (like I wanna kiss him but also punch him in his stupid pretty face)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

He was on the Homecoming and Prom Court in high school and he ATE THAT SHIT UP

He also was voted “Most Handsome” in his yearbook

Joined the Army purely because of the glory he saw in Top Gun (he picked a different branch because he couldn’t handle the Navy training)

Was pissed when he saw Glen Powell in Top Gun: Maverick

For weeks his Shadows heard him complain that they based the character off of him

Loves pickle back shots (whiskey followed immediately with pickle juice)—something Price finds revolting

One time, made his Shadows get him Chik-Fil-A because he was craving it abroad

Speaking of which, he’s such a pussy when trying new foods—any spice will immediately put this man on the toliet

Always smothers his food in ranch dressing

Cool ranch Doritos? RANCH. Pizza? EXTRA RANCH. Mac and cheese? RANCH MIXED IN!

“Happy Independence day, you colonizing fuckers!” he exclaims whenever he works with soldiers over the seas (and it just happens to be the 4th of July)

If he’s at home, just know he’ll be chilling in an American flag tank top from Walmart and drinking a Natty Light

Plus he’ll be launching fireworks all night long so hide your dogs

His home? You might ask. Well, picture a mansion tucked away in either Texas or Wyoming with that Western Cowboy aesthetic

Even though he’s very Mr. Americana, he secretly buys French perfumes and Italian suits (but will always stand by a “Made in America” tag)

Just looks like he has a good face routine but DOES NOT moisturize his body (if he does it’s because he’s getting laid and is ashy)

He heats up hot water in the microwave and uses one of those Lipton tea bags Ghost almost shoots him

Definitely competed in one of those “All you can eat hot dog” contests

Also proudly shows off his award winning “Wet T-Shirt contest” photos

“Sweet Home Alabama” can never be played for the 141, they get war flashbacks of Grave’s playing it prior to the Dark Water mission

Confident that he could’ve played a better Ken than Chris Evan’s in the new Barbie movie

Got one of those terrible barbed wire tattoos when he was fresh out of bootcamp to look cool to his new army brothers

Also just know if he wasn’t in the Army, he’d be going to the University of South Carolina and be in one of their top frats

But while in the Army, he used the fact that he would be deployed oversees to bring women (and his Tinder dates) in

Reusable bags? HAHA never for Graves, he doesn’t get why he has to bring one in or buy one for ¢15

Will either buy the stupid bag or carry everything in his arms like an idiot

I also just KNOW this man doesn’t recycle

When he goes to New England, he makes a big fuss on how they can’t make sweet tea

Finally, he just RADIATES Ford F-150 or a Jeep with no doors energy

#call of duty #mw2 imagine #cod mwii #phillip graves #graves call of duty #graves x reader #mw2 #izzie is writing

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year

Text

Mix Tapes.

reader is dustin’s older sister and she appreciates the bond that her brother and eddie share, they aren’t close but have a bit of small talk when he’s around, she hasn’t really had a big crush on anyone before and suddenly finds herself thinking about eddie more and writes his name whenever she’s writing anything, dustin becomes a big tease during the process since she asks about eddie more but talks to him less, eventually she builds up the courage to not tell him but eventually talk to him more and express how she feels through mixtapes

but is eddie smart enough to find out?

Request by anon 💞 also thank you @ghosttownwherenoonegoes for your input 😘

Warnings; angst, some insecurity, and a jealous moment. Eddie being a cutie, fluffy content.

Likes or reblogs are always appreciated 😘

I do not give anyone permission to copy my work.

💞💞

Since Dustin had joined Hellfire and had been taken under Eddie's wing yn had seen such a difference in her brother.

When he first joined Hawkins High School he wasn't sure how to fit in and neither did his friends Lucas or Mike.

Then when Eddie invited them to join Hellfire they found their place and she was so glad.

She and Dustin were close and since she was in her senior year at High School she was glad she could watch out for him and liked that Eddie looked out for him.

Even though Dustin had been in Hellfire for a couple of months she didn't know Eddie that well, they had conversations here and there but they weren't besties or anything.

The only thing was she couldn't stop thinking about Eddie. He popped into her head at random times and she found herself doodling his name.

Sometimes she would find herself daydreaming about his gorgeous brown eyes or the way he smiled, those cute dimples.

Dustin had noticed her doodling one day and asked what she was doing. He peered over her shoulder and saw that she was writing Eddie's name and maybe drawn a few love hearts beside it.

He had a field day when he saw that and had been teasing her about having a crush on Eddie ever since.

She had never had a crush before on anyone so she didn't recognize the signs at first, feeling butterflies in her stomach, she grew flustered when he was near her and her heart raced in her chest.

When he was close enough to touch her body felt like it was tingling everywhere.

Whether Eddie felt the same was another story.

To get her feelings out and confess to Eddie how she felt about him she had made a mix tape and planned to leave it for him when she picked up Dustin from Hellfire Club.

💞💞

The minute she sees Eddie at Hellfire her heart skips a beat. He beams when he sees her.

"Hey sweetheart", she murmurs hello to him and hands him the first tape.

"Hey, I made this mix tape for you, there's some Metallica and Judas Priest on there but also some music I think you'd like, and um one of my favorites" he grins.

"I don't think anything can top Heavy metal rock music Henderson but I'll give it a go and let you know what I think yeah?" she beams and tries to hide her nerves.

"Great" she wonders if she should have been a bit more obvious in her choice of music for the mix tape and decides to make another one for him just in case.

💞

Dustin has been a teasing little shit for the last few days and now he knows she gave Eddie a mix tape he is even worse.

She had left the second one for him with Dustin who had left it with Eddie at lunch.

This tape was a little more personal with songs by AC/DC, Guns and Roses, Heart, Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, and Foreigner.

There was also some Blondie and Madonna.

Maybe he might feel the same. What was he thinking when he listened to the tapes she wondered?

Would he figure it out and ask her out? Or would he let her down gently if he wasn't interested.

The thoughts fill her head and she is distracted by them until she sees Eddie.

Her hopes dash when she notices Eddie talking to a pretty redhead. Sasha, was her name wasn't it?

Dustin swears as he sees her fallen face when Sasha flirts with Eddie, she's a metalhead too so they would have a lot in common.

Perhaps Eddie liked Sasha and she was just kidding herself with these mixtapes and hoping Eddie liked her back.

Crushed she hurries away ignoring Eddie who notices her as she turns away and she heads into class before he can catch up with her.

💞💞

Eddie was confused at why yn has hurried away from him. He had listened to the mix tapes she had sent him and he had noticed the theme in the tapes after the second listen.

Or maybe it was that one Madonna song he could not get out of his head that made him realize what yn had meant?

Either way, it had stunned him when he figured out that she liked him. She was beautiful and funny, sweet and she liked him.

When he saw her rush away while he was talking to Sasha he tried to catch up with her but she wouldn't stop?

Did she think he liked Sasha because that wasn't the case? Sasha flirted with him a lot but he wasn't interested in her at all, she was too needy and bitchy at times, he had told her that he wasn't interested when she tried to talk to him again when he couldn't catch up with yn.

Now he has to figure out how to tell yn that he felt the same way she did. That every time she came to Hellfire he felt his heart was going to beat out of his chest and she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Maybe if he made a mix tape for her then that might explain everything? With that idea in his head, he gets set to make her the most metal mixtape ever.

💞💞

When she had seen the mixtape stuffed into the side of her locker the funk that she had been in the last day slowly disappeared as she recognized Eddie's handwriting.

The most metal mix tape 🎸

She grins and the first chance she gets she sneaks back into her car and begins to listen to the tape.

"Hey, sweetheart. I listened to your tapes and you may have gotten me around to liking some of the music you're into.

Turns out Blondie's Call Me is fucking catchy and Fleetwood Mac have some bangers.

I hope this tape explains how I feel, the thought of telling you makes me scared shitless, and that is terrifying because I have no problem calling that asshole, Jason out or drawing attention to myself.

But with you? I get nervous and my heart feels like a jackhammer in my chest.

Anyway I hope you like this princess

The first song wasLet me put my love into you by AC/DC. Followed by Black Sabbath and a song called Country Girl.

The first few songs were definitely Eddie's musical taste.

Billy Joel's Uptown Girl was a surprise and it made her giggle with delight as the songs veered onto the ones Eddie thought she would love.

There was Every little thing by The Beatles, he had even added her favorite song by Cynda Lauper - Time after time, and ended with Foreigner - I wanna know what love is.

Then for the final surprise, Eddie played his guitar for her and she was crying. The minute she saw him come outside and realized it was the end of the school day she rushed out to see him.

He looked nervous and smiles at her.

"Hey, princess. I know you saw me with Sasha but I am not interested in her. You're the only woman that I want to be with and I'm not interested in anyone else"

"From the moment I met you I fell for you and was stunned because I've never fallen for anyone before, just random hookups but you are my dream girl and..."

She cups his cheek.

"Eddie, kiss me" he does, and it's amazing, he moans and pulls her closer and they don't stop until they hear Lucas and Mike teasing Dustin.

"Aww yn and Eddie sitting in a tree k.i.s.s.i.n.g" they sing and quiten the minute Eddie gives them a dark look.

"Dude, why did you have to fall for my sister?" Dustin sighs then looks at the beaming smiles on their faces.

"As long as you're both happy then I'm happy but no kissing in front of me please" he looks nauseated at the thought and pleads to her.

Eddie chuckles and shrugs.

"I will try and uphold that promise butthead but you're beautiful sister may be led astray"

Dustin groans.

"Ahh shit"

💞💞

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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redfurrycat · 6 months

Note

Hey! Have you made a master list of Ice being Jake’s dad? (I absolutely love, appreciate and frequently use your master lists)

Just as I’m writing the Ron is Jake’s dad au I’ve been trying to read all the Ice is Jake’s dad and I’m sure I’m missing some??

Hey Mac! 😊

This is slightly different than how I usually do rec lists. In this case, I searched through the Top Gun (Movies) fics tagged as Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Jake "Hangman" Seresin and then proceeded with the collecting of all fics mentioning any paternal-filial bond between the two, regardless of the pairings.

Meaning I don't think I know most of them, but I hope you can find stuff to read nonetheless.

(I'll probably -absolutely- do a Hangster & Icepops-Hangson recs list though, at some point in the future! 😊)

I invite anyone to add fics fitting the request if you have more! 💖

Tumblr Posts

The Hangman's Guide to Winning Over Your Disapproving Admiral-In-Law – Part 1 – 2 – 3 (@amostexcellentblog)

Also see these:

nonbinary-jakeseresin post

weewoobrainrot post

whohasthecards post

AO3 Fics

(All have Jake as Ice's biological or adopted son, unless mentioned otherwise.)

See You Again by sleeping_maple {T}

Just when Hangman thinks that the day can't get any worse, he finds out that his father died. His father, Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky. And he doesn't take it well. Luckily, Sarah Kazansky and Maverick are there to help.

Mini Man by SpringPetunia {T}

Hangman is Iceman's son. He never tells anyone anymore because of how they always react. But his dad is coming for a visit

Golden Boy by Earthangel_44 {E}

“Say it.” Jake says smiling. His face is so close to Bradley’s that Bradley has to duck his chin to look at him. “You’re a bird, Jake.” Bradley replies and Jake beams. “I already have the wings.” Jake says happily as he presses short quick kisses to Bradley’s lips. Bradley smiles and Jake kisses that too. “Now say you’re a bird.” Bradley laughs and he smiles until his eyes crinkle. “Well if you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” A Notebook AU because Glen Powell ships Hangster

Touch Starved by LeonDesdichard {M}

(Ice acting like a dad)

Jake shows up at Ice and Mav's house and he's completely out of it because he's sick and Maverick and Bradley are out of the house so it ends up being Ice who is the one that is taking care of Jake. Jake is completely out of it because he's feverish and he's really touch starved which has Ice angry for a ton of different reasons.

Military Amalgamate by rem_png {G}

(Icemav’s son)

Back in the 80s, the government wanted to make a new generation of super pilots. So, they turned to science and mixed the DNA of their best fighter pilots. None of the pilots knew about this project. Fast forward to 2020 and the truth comes out, rattling many families.

Take me home by Target_rich_environment {G}

Jake takes Bob home after the bird strike

IcePops and HangSon Series by UFOxMulder {T}{E}

Hangman snippets Series by Fantasy2739 {T}

Even worse idea! by LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade {T}

(Ice acting like a dad)

“Bradley, Ice just texted me to come to “hang out”, is this a threat?” “Jake you’ve known him for almost five years now, it is definitely just Ice wanting you to do some work around the house.” “Okay but-” “Baby, this exact conversation happened last week, you know Ice is so different at home than he is at work.” “But is he?” “Jake, please,” “Okay yeah, I’ll go over.”

Midnight Hour Mixtape by Bubblegumchaos {T}

Hangman runs; he always been much too good at that sort of thing. Jake would give anything to find his father except his clues are half a dozen letters in a shoebox and his late mother's drunken rambles of a man who wasn't her husband.

I don't know how to change a tyre by blazingstar29 {G}

(Son-Fatherly Feels)

Jake gives his first father's day at 30.

Top Gun: Kazansky Twins by Tazlady691 {T}

A cannon divergence AU: The story of a pair of twins and their life up to 2023

The Mitchell-Kazanskys Series by WhisperingNights {T}{M}

Flowers for my grave by TheReadingWriter {T}

When a study on the genetics of Hanahaki disease brings forth the revelation that Jake "Hangman" Seresin is in fact Tom "Iceman" Kazansky's son, their lives take a dramatic turn, as they for the first time in their lives have someone to other than the ones who cursed them to live for. Their times are both running out, but they will be damned if they will let the other die without at least trying to save them. When the mission of a lifetime arrives, one thing is certain: It will either mean happiness for the rest of their lives, or certain death before the year has passed. How far will they go to protect the secret they know will kill them?

A Choice by Ren_Anders {_}

(Son-Fatherly Feels)

After everything, when everything is suppose to be smooth sailing, Jake gets a call. His dad has just died. But it doesn’t matter, right? He was an asshole and he refuses to give him his grief. OR Ice and Jake have a heart to heart about shitty dads and how to overcome their deaths

Family Ties by CryoCait {_}

Jake knows what policies there are in place to avoid familial conflict of interest, he's lived it for years. He knows how sacred those policies are to keeping his family sane. So logically it follows that he understands how dangerous this mission must be for the Navy to look aside and allow the entire Mitchell-Kazansky family to be a part of it. Now he just needed to make sure they all made it home in one piece. Or Jake is a Kazansky just as much as Bradley is a Mitchell, and Mav never pulled Bradley's papers. Now, the close-knit but under the radar family all must work together for the first time during the Uranium Plant mission and keep their relationships to each other under wraps while trying to make sure everyone survives this suicide mission.

Bikes and Bruises by WhisperingNights {M}

(Icemav’s son)

"You aren’t taking one of my bikes to the HR Drag Strip, Jacob, end of story,” Mav responded, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t be racing, it's just a show,” Jake protested. Mav snorted “Yeah, right.” “I won’t! The show starts at 9-” “How many times are you going to make me say no, son?” Mav asked.

Heartbeats & Bird Nests Series by SamHeartfilia {T}{E}

Two Men and a Baby by multifangirl11 {_}

(Mav’s son & Icemav)

Jake is Pete's son, Tom is a good friend who hopes to become more.

Keeping Dreams Alive, 1999 Hero's (I Ain't Worried Right Now) by Luxu1230 {_}

(Icemav’s son)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin is the biological son of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and Tom "Iceman" Kazasky but was kidnapped not that long after being born all he has of them is a small f-14 Tomcat silver necklace which he keeps hidden. He knows his "parents" are his real "Parents" though they don't exactly know that but when he overhears a certain conversation between three people he starts suspecting of who his true parents maybe and from the sounds of it they definitely didn't abandon him.

Been searching for a(n Ice)man by crowstakeflight {G}

Jake did not really look like either of his parents. Sure, he could see some of his mom in his features when he looked in the mirror, but the majority of them are from someone he’s never seen before. It didn’t take much to bring the question up to his parents and they answered honestly. Or, Jake's biological father is Iceman and this is what happens after he finds out.

Living after midnight, loving 'til the morning, then I'm gone. by WaffleToaster {E}

Nobody thought their actions back in the winter of '85 and beyond would end up having these consequences. A story woven from past mistakes, indecisions and loss that eventually helped shape his world and upbringing. But despite all the hardships one thing was for certain, Jake Seresin was destined to fly and he knew the Navy was where he belonged. A slightly altered kind of retelling that includes Jake 'Hangman' Seresin being Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky’s lost son, a story about revelations, love, loss, friendship and most importantly family. Where two rivals find out they may not be so different from one another and their journey to understanding, unity, serenity and eventually love. First by hating, then by loving and finally understanding and helping one another find a place they both deserve. Just not in the same order.

A Kazansky Redemption by WhisperingNights {E}

This is a Kazansky love story. Can one win back the love of their life? Can the other find love in a storm of hate? **** “Sarah, that’s been over for 26 years, besides your my wife, remember? It wouldn’t be good to go tell a man I love him now would it?” Ice grinning playfully at her. She gave a small laugh that quickly turned into a cough, causing him to lean toward her in concern. “I’m alright, I’m alright, sit down,” she rasped, waving him off, then she looked at him “I love you Tom, but we both know our love was foraged in partnership nothing else. We did what was necessary for the safety of ourselves and your career. But it’s 2017, it's easier now. Sexuality rights are better, people are more open. I’ll never get to have a wife, but you Tom, you deserve to have a husband.” ***** Jake’s eyes landed on a figure in an awful Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. His irritation instantly grew, the universe really must hate him.

#do me a 🐈recs list🐈 asks #answered ask #jake hangman seresin as tom iceman kazansky's son #hangman is iceman's son #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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annikin-annotates · 1 year

Text

CamGirlAU - A Proposal

Hiya ya’ll sorry this has been a long time coming! I’ve been super sick and really had to put this on the back burner! It’s my first time writing smut all on my own lmao so please be kind to me! and I know I said this would be a CamGirl fic, but I’m thinking of incorporating Sugar baby/daddy dynamics in here also. either way I hope you enjoy it! also I’m giving my girl @whoahoney some love in this fic, pls follow her; she posts amazing Eddie fics and Stranger Things content.

Pairing: Modern!Aemond x Camgirl!Reader, Honey x Modern!Eddie Munson.

Warnings: Smut minors DNI, Sexual innuendos, Use of Wacky Baccy, Swearing.

Word Count: 4.5k

The incessant blaring alarm pulled her from her slumber for the third time this morning, she let out an exasperated sigh as she snatched the phone from the wireless charger on the bedside table. If she didn’t get up now she’d miss the train and it would then be a 40 minute uber and she wasn’t interested in forking out that much money. Throwing back the covers with a grunt, her legs stretching as she stood to stretch, she gave herself a once over in the floor length mirror in the corner of her room. Pulling on stockings and a black and grey skirt, tucking in a thick black sweater, and slipping on her well loved platform Mary Janes. Her laptop already sat in her bag along with its charger and a book to read - she had the forethought to pre pack her bag the night before, which meant she had time to tie the top section of her hair into a little bun. She headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth before grabbing her bag and her over ear headphones from the stand on the edge of her desk. taking the stairs two at as time as she swiped her keys from the bowl on the kitchen bench yelling a quick “See ya!” to her roommate who was simply known as ‘Honey’.

Winter in Kings Landing was certainly setting, the brisk breeze as she stepped out of the run down apartment in Flea Bottom sending a jolt through her body. letting muscle memory take over as she put her headphones on and made her trek to the station. It was bustling as usual, not that she could care, she had places to be - and luckily she made the train in time, no free seats though; standing it would be. Scrolling aimlessly through social media filled the time, sending out a post on her cam socials

‘Going live tonight my sweets, hope to see you all there.

Planetary_M0ans xx’

There’s nothing that will ever top the satisfaction of watching all the likes, comments and Dm’s roll in. This whole thing started after a particularly terrible breakup, he had called her a prude and she too that personally. When she first started it all - it freaked her out; all the attention from men, she was shy and prior to her first stream had never even taken a nude picture of herself. Now she was ‘Out pasting her pussy on the sidewalk’ as Honey would say; with the most love and respect. Honey was one of her only friends who had stuck around after the break up, picked her up out of her pity party and into what she had called her ‘Villain Era’. Said Villain Era consisted mostly of eating terrible microwaved mac and cheese and posting thirst traps online; and getting paid. So it all worked out in her favour she would say.

The train came to a screeching halt as she got off at her stop, it was only a five minute walk from where she was so sh wasn’t going to be terribly late to class. The door of the lecture hall clicked closed behind her as she quickly found a seat in the back of the room and opened her laptop, beginning to take notes. At least it was an interesting class - Homicide; The class always brought something different each week and the lecturer didn’t act like he was being held at gun point to be there. The single buzz of her phone in her hand pulled her from her focus, she unlocked her phone to see a message from one of her regular viewers Sunfyre96;

‘Wear that red set, you look delicious in it. I’ll tip extra’

Her eyebrow raised, she knew the set they were talking about it wasn’t the first time he had suggested it.

‘Of course! anything else, My King?’ she responded, they had requested that they only be referred to as ‘My King’ the first time they spoke; and he tipped big, it worked for her. The speech dots appeared and disappeared several times she knew he was trying to come up with a snarky response but only returned with ‘Good, I’ll transfer before the stream’. She double tapped the message to heart it ‘Thank you, My King’ was all she responded with before locking her phone; focusing on the lecture once more.

Once again she was thrust into the cold as her lecture finished, she made her way down the steps of the lecture hall and across the Quad to one of the several campus coffee shops. She rubbed her hands as she waited in line rehearsing what she wanted to order, she stepped up to the counter the man at the counter flashing her a smile “Hello! What can I get for you today?” he asked cheerily. She smiled back at him “Uh Yeah Hi, can I please get a Hot chocolate on oat milk and a blueberry muffin please?” she asked, digging out her card from her wallet, half watching him punch in the order. Pressing her card to the reader, the little beep letting her know it had processed, she gave him another smile as she stepped off to the side to wait for her drink.

Once she had received the rich sugary drink that fuelled her very body and her muffin she would save for a snack later, she began her walk to the station to head home. Putting on her headphones as soon as she sat on the uncomfortable arcade floor patterned seats and sipping her drink, staring out the window thinking about all the things she had to do be for the stream. She decided to be a courteous roomie and send Honey a text,

‘Hi my love, Just letting you know that I’m doing aa spicy stream tonight. Just wanted to be a good roomie and let you know xx’ She replied almost instantaneously ‘If King Sunfyre needs a second, you know where to find me x’, she stifled a snort as the text came through, She could always count on her friend to be accepting. The ride home felt much quicker than the ride that morning, the luke warm heating of the apartment foyer taking some of the chill off her bones. she gave the lady at the front desk a wave, to which she received a sour look and a raised eyebrow over the rim of her purple glasses frames. She cringed at the look and started up the stairwell to the apartment, her keys jiggled in the door as she struggled with the lock, it tended to get jammed on chillier days. Finally shouldering the door open she was met with the smell of weed and patchouli candles, she couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that her friend probably had a certain curly haired puppy eyed boy over.

She didn’t bother with calling out, not wanting to disturb whatever was going on in her roommates room. A quick tidy up of her room was the first chore off the list, laying out the requested red set and snapping a picture and sending it to the requester;

‘The red set, as requested. My King’. There was no response, only the ping of her bank account getting a deposit; she went to check on the amount, thinking it would only be $20 like it usually was. Her breath hitched in her throat s she saw not just two but three zero’s “What do you mean $200?!” she exclaimed, immediately sending her gifter a thank you note, and an attached special picture. Before almost slamming Honey’s door open “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever-the-fuck is going on in here but Sunfyre96 just paid me $200!”. Both Honey and her friend jumped in fright, the brunet trying to hide the glass bong behind his back, no doubt spilling bong water on the floor. Honey gasped “No fucking way! he did not!”, all she could do was nod frantically and show her the bank account “Sushi is on me fella’s!” she laughed, so giddy that she was shaking. Her friends toasted counter part grinned at her “Hell yeah, dudette. Get on that grind” he high fived her, she returned the favour. “Anyway! that’s the good news, I’ll see you guys at like 8pm!” she smiled, closing the door behind her and heading back to her room.

Making quick work of cleaning her room and setting up her equipment, making sure everything was clean before changing into her set for the night. She pulled on a silky robe for her own modesty turning on her setup, ring lights, soft box and back drop that hides the rest of her room from prying eyes. Logging into her computer and opening spotify and pressing play on her chosen playlist for the night. Before she stepped back into the mirror to look at herself, the chosen set was stunning; a deep blood red boning and lace a nude mesh not leaving much for the imagination between her legs. But the bra of the set was a quarter cup, so her breasts sat almost uncomfortably high, her nipples nearly popping over the edge of the cup - there was sure to be a nip slip tonight. Not one to waste too much time, she logged into he streaming platform and her work socials and keyed in all the appropriate information before sending out that a link would be dropping in fifteen minutes. Though she sent an early access link to a few of her higher tier subs for a private pre-show, which was mostly just chatting to a few lonely men and women, though some she came to genuinely enjoy.

Taking the spare few minutes she had to pop on a pretty red lip, her patrons loved when her pretty little lips got all smudged - Their words, not hers. And a matching red bunny mask, she didn’t need anyone finding out her identity. As promised she spent the first fifteen minutes talking to her higher tier subscribers, laughing at their jokes and making sure they were well taken care of. She sent out the secondary link - already having it queued to go out after the fifteen minutes was up, her chat exploded with messages and suggestions. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, “Yes, Yes. Hello my loves! How are you all? I appreciate you all coming by tonight! Let’s get started shall we?” She asked.

Luckily she had bought a sit to stand desk making use of the adjustable settings to get that perfect height, she hooked each of her legs over the arm of her chair causing her tummy to scrunch up. Exposing her clothed core to the camera - running a delicate manicured finger down the centre of the mesh slowly, watching some of the messages roll by each one making a little ping. “Take it off?” she asked innocently “I’ll take it off if we can get my tip jar to $300, I’ll be good to you I promise” she continued, rubbing small circles over her clit, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. Unsurprisingly they surpassed the goal set by well over $600, “Aw! Thank you so much my loves” her voice came out sickly sweet. Unhooking her legs from the chair and standing once more “Can we just admire how stunning this set is? Thank you again to Sunfyre96 for their generous donation. I hope I’m doing it justice” she said to the camera, turning around and bending down. Exposing the soft rounds of her ass as she hooked her thumbs on each side of the band and shimmying it down her legs, she was smart enough to wear her thong over her garter so the pretty stockings and garter remained but her pussy was now fully exposed.

She ran a hand over her ass before giving herself a squeeze before sitting once more, hooking her legs over her chair once more. Her heat was now on full display in all its glistening beauty, she ran two fingers along the slit before circling her clit, she leant her head back against the chair, her toes curling in pleasure “Ugh, fuuuck” she moaned. She picked up the pace feeling that familiar bubble in the pit of her stomach form, though her fingers just weren’t cutting it - reaching for the basket beside her chair pulling out her tried and true wand. She was so used to using it that she didn’t even really need to look to see if it was turned on before she held it to her aching button. Switching her wand to her non-dominant hand using her centre two fingers to sink into herself, she couldn’t contain her moans from that point on.

Oh Gods!

Oh Fuck!

I’m gonna cum!

The ever tightening coil in her stomach finally snapped, she rode out that glorious high with her lip between her teeth - though she was sure the apartment three doors down would have heard her by now. When the slight numbness in her body died down, she leant forward to check the chat which was now flooding with comments taking the time to thank each person personally for their donations. “Thank you for coming by my loves! I hope you all had a wonderful time, I will see you later in the week” she said sweetly, blowing a kiss to the camera and ending the stream.

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she stood to clean herself up, putting on a fresh pair of leggings and black thigh high socks with an oversized shirt, a half faded band name printed on the front of it and tour dates on the back. Grabbing her phone from her desk and taking it with her to Honey’s room - making sure to knock this time. Honey and her scruffy haired friend were known to have relations from time to time; it was better for her to be safe than sorry. Only entering when she heard Honey tell her to come in, both of them were under the covers, Honey’s hair was disheveled as she laid on her friends chest; she bit back her grin. “Do you guys still want sushi? I’m sure you both have worked up an appetite” she winked, both of them nodded “Just come down stairs and I’ll order it when you guys are ready” she smiled, closing the door behind her and heading down stairs.

She snatched the tv remote from the table changing it to some lofi on YouTube as she sunk into the worn couch with a loud sigh. A soft tail brushed up against her leg, the near silent plop her feline companion made was more than enough to make her heart squeeze. She stroked the soft fur as she posted on her socials;

‘Thank you all again for joining me tonight, As always I appreciate every single one of you!

Planetary_M0ans xx’

The sound of two sets of thumping feet were coming down the stairs, pulling her attention away from her phone and back into reality. Two grinning faces appeared in to the room, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed and sticky; she raised her brows and gave Honey a knowing look as they made their way to the two seater adjacent to hers. The apartment wasn’t in terrible condition, the walls were that weird shade of beige with a satin finish that always made them feel sticky, the flooring was wood up until the kitchen; where ugly apricot tiles started - they were only in the kitchen which was vaguely annoying, why not just keep the hardwood? “-getting?” She caught the tail end of Honey’s question, “Huh?” she questioned shaking off the fog clouding her brain “What are we getting?” Honey asked with a half laugh. Shaking her head once more and opening her phone “Ya’ll still want sushi right? Or we could get burgers?” she asked without looking up. An excited “Oh!” was heard from her companion, looking over the rim of her glasses, her smirk hidden by her phone; Honey snorted at his reaction “Burgers please, oh kind ruler” she laughed, it was one that came from the depths of her throat.

They passed around the phone each of them taking turns in ordering what they wanted from the local burger joint - Joey’s. They all sat and chatted for a while, exchanging giggles and jokes until Honey’s scruffy haired companion - Eddie, broke the giggles “Hey, I uh gave your phone number to my Uncle. You said you were an accountant and I told him you were really good at your job and could help him file his taxes” he said with a sheepish grin. Both her and Honey stared from each other, to Eddie and then back to each other before bursting into a fit of racious laughter. “E-Eddie! That’s not the type of accountant she is!” Honey cackled, slapping him on the arm playfully, “There’s other kind’s of - Oh.” he began before cutting himself off, his face flushing. He looked to the girl opposite him, as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the inside of her shirt “I’m sorry - I” he stammered. She waved him off hardly containing her laughter “It’s no problem at all dude, but I would fuck up your Uncles tax so bad. I’ll send you the details of my actual accountant later though” she chuckled.

Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she took that first bite of her burger, chasing it with a mouth full of fries “My fucking god! Joey’s never fails us!” she groaned. Her roommate giggled at her “Praise Joey, King of the grill!” she praises in between bites of her own burger, Eddie on the other hand was so consumed in his burger that he said absolutely nothing the entire time, choosing to focus his attention wholly on the food in front of him. “Praise Joey!” she laughed, the three of them had spent many a night drinking and stumbling into Joey’s grill for a late night burger. Sighing in contentment as she popped the last part of her burger in her mouth, slapping both hands on both her legs and getting ups with a sigh “Well! I’m going to shower and go to bed, I’m tired as heck” she said with a yawn.

The steaming water soothed her body and she stepped into the shower and letting her shoulders drop and throwing her head into the water. She spent a while washing and conditioning her hair, and moisturinging after she got out she slipped into her favourite pajama's; yellow and black tartan bottoms and a plain black shirt. The hardwood creaked as she padded across the hall to her room, closing the door behind her as she stepped inside and flicking the light off. She crawled into bed under the cover of darkness and opened her phone once she was situated, there was a notification of a message through Instagram;

Legacy_98 sent you a message request

this’ll be good she thought to herself as she opened her insta and read the message; Hello, I viewed your live stream tonight. I want to know if you would be interested in an arrangement?

Her brows furrowed, she exited out of the message and looked at the profile, no followers, no following and no posts - suspicious. She was very familiar with the type of person she was dealing with here, a total fake - these guys really have to try harder. Switching back over to the message she began to reply; Sure! what did you have in mind? She hit send and exited out of the app, choosing to scroll on TikTok instead.

less than two minutes later came a response; I would like to pay you for private calls and for you to accompany me to events, set your price. I will pay. Her eyebrows rose now she was intrigued, I don’t usually take private clients. She responded. The response bubble popped up You seem to give Sunfyre96 special treatment Was all he responded with, an incredulous laugh escaped her before she replied again. Bold words for someone requesting my services she retorted, her chest puffing at her snarky response I’ll pay you $2,000 a call.

“He’ll pay what?!” Honey exclaimed from the kitchen, watching the breakfast sausages she had sizzling in the pan. “He said he would pay 2k every phone call!” she replied, Honey turned to her friend, the tongs still in her hand “And what did you say?” she pressed. “I said yes - but only if he could provide proof he had the funds!” She said, putting her hands up in mock surrender. Honey’s brows rose higher - if that was even possible, “And how did he do that?” she questioned, turning back to the stove to take the sausages off the heat. “…He paid me 3 grand up front…” she mumbled, Honey’s head whipped around so fast she was sure her friends neck would break “What!” she cried, nearly dropping the plate full of breakfast sausages. She shrugged “I mean yeah, like it’s no biggie if this guy want’s to spend his money on me” she tried to play it cool but her insides were just about vibrating. Honey sighed heavily “If you’re sure about it - just be safe and don’t be stupid about it. Keep your head screwed on; I don’t need another messy girl on my doorstep”. She pressed her hand to her chest in offence “I’ll have you know that this is my apartment!” she laughed “But I will, I promise. that won’t happen to me again” she finished, loading her plate with some eggs, a pancake, some bacon and some breakfast sausage. They both ate together in silence “Where’d Eddie go?” she asked her friend softly, a soft sigh escaped her “Oh - uh, He’s at band practice. They are hoping to be picked up by talent scouts at their next gig” Honey responded, swallowing the hunk of pancake in her mouth.

Nodding to her friend as she thought for a moment, “Why don’t you go and surprise him? take him lunch or something, that’d be cute” she offered, as she stood up and walked to the kitchen to wash her plate. There was a pause, “Hmm, I might. I dunno” Honey replied softly, Her friend rose her eyebrow “What’s the matter?” she asked, taking her friends hand and leading her to the couch. Honey sat with a loud sigh and threw her legs across her friends “I don’t know, I just don’t think we’re going anywhere. Like - I invite him over, we, you know…And then he acts like he’s oblivious to what’s going on” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She sat for a moment to formulate what she needed to say, “Well - If you feel he isn’t giving you the attention your relationship deserves, have a talk to him about it! you never know, he might not know he’s doing it. and if not; There are plenty of hot guys out there! this is Kings Landing!” she smiled, rubbing Honey’s calf soothingly. “You know what? You’re right - life’s too short to do this stupid little dance, I’m going Up-Town right now” Honey said trying to hype herself up.

About twenty minutes later she was left all alone in the apartment, laying on the couch staring at the ceiling - doing nothing. She had tidied the kitchen and done the dishes by the time Honey had left to confess her undying love to Eddie - so she was left with not much to do. Just as she was about to fall sleep; her phone buzzed on her stomach, she picked it up to see a message from Legacy_98;

Are you free to call right now? I would like to talk about our arrangement. She could feel her heart beginning to race as she began to type Uh yeah, sure. Give me two seconds and I’ll call. Quickly jogging up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind her, perching herself on the side of her bed; pressing the little call icon on the app.

It rang once, twice and picked up on the third ring; “Hello?” a deep, smooth voice asked “Hello, am I talking to Legacy98?” she asked softly, a little unsure of herself. A beat of silence followed the question, “Yes, I am.” was all he said, “Not much of a talker, are you?” she quipped light heartedly. He let out a soft chuckle - the kind that just comes from your nose “No - I suppose I’m not” he responded, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. A sigh escaped her - “Well, my name’s Kit, It’s nice to meet you. I like long walks on the beach and eating shredded cheese from the bag when I’m sad” she wasn’t exactly sure where they reply came from but the rumble of a chuckle over the phone made her smile. A short silence followed as if in contemplation, “My name’s Aemond -” the following sentence that garbled over the phone line fell of deff ears, surely they were joking right? right? Shaking the stunned silence from her throat with a cough “Um, I’m sorry - I didn’t catch that, you said your name was Aemond - right? as in -”. He cut her off, his smooth voice overlaying her own “As in Aemond Targaryen”. Aemond said it as if he and his family weren’t house hold names and constantly on the front pages of magazines, there were fan pages online dedicated to this man. He could feel the tension on the phone line “All I ask is that you come to one event with me, all you have to do is act as arm candy. I’ll pay for all the expenses. If you find you still don’t want to do this - we can go our separate ways”.

Her eyebrows rose as a smirk spread across her face “Deal” was all she said, he made a sound somewhere in-between an acknowledgement and a grunt before he hung up.

Legacy_98: Meet at this address tomorrow at 8am, do not be late.

Planetary_m0ans: I won’t.

She flopped back onto her bed, a satisfied grin on her face and a thrumming in her ears. Things just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

taglist: @adelusionalwriter @princesssszzzz @chainsawsangel @poppyreader @sahanna @hopelesswritergall @arcielee

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oh-surprise-its-me · 9 months

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Bradley laying behind Jake listening to him play a video game while he reads a book with his arms over Jakes chest.

Jake pauses the game leaning back into Bradley’s space biting his jaw to get the man’s attention.

“oh I uh forgot to ask you but um what’s you ring size.”

Bradley who’s pretty sure he definitely didn’t hear him right leans back and blinks as Jake.

“I’m buying you a ring Bradshaw. But before you get excited I’ve got a plan I’m sticking to so no you can’t have it now.”

Bradley fucking lights up. He kisses Jake until they both can’t breathe.

“Dunno baby probably 12 but I know you are a size 10.”

Jake sits up with a flush turning around to straddle his basically almost fiancé, “Bradley Bradshaw why do you know my ring size.”

“Gotta see who’s plan to propose comes first to get that info Jake.”

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw x jake seresin #bradley x jake #ofc they’d be competitive at proposing #hangster #hangman x rooster #mac writes top gun

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bradleybradshaw · 1 year

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the long way home

Jake and Bradley had come in late last night and settled into the guest room of Maverick and Iceman’s beach house. Jake had driven them both up at Pete and Tom’s insistence after Mav’s voice on the phone and Jake’s hand running up and down his back hadn’t been enough to get Bradley to stop shaking when he’d woken up screaming from a nightmare. He's hoping being there will be good for Bradley, maybe finally get him to talk about how he's been feeling. Because Bradley's the only one who's bottling everything up. And Jake is perfectly fine. He swears.

words: 5,982 rating: teen

#top gun #top gun maverick #icemav #wanted to post all my stuff here so :)#mac writes #sereshaw

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 2 years

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ch. 4: A Safe Place to Land- Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 5.6k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.

Warnings: so much angst, panic attack, not taking care of oneself? related food mention, more angst, sexy time mentions (but no actual smut), alcohol mention, cursing, men are the worst, overuse of italics

a/n: hi y'all! thank u all for the patience & love you've shown this series <3 ngl, this chapter was hard to write bc of the subject matter & all that but i'm really happy w how it turned out! i listened to "Salt In The Wound" from boygenius on repeat while writing this chapter, i HIGHLY recommend giving it a listen. also--my toxic trait is naming my villain-esque original characters after people who’ve done me dirty personally. voila captain ethan was born :)

series master list | master list

On Bob’s birthday, the squadron threw a small party for him on base. It was nothing major–just a small party with his closest friends, quiet and lowkey–just how he liked it. Impromptu party rooms were few and far between on base, so they set up in a Top Gun classroom that wasn’t being used at the moment.

y/n was wandering around the halls in search of the classroom, balancing a cake box in one hand and her phone in the other. Though Rooster texted her specific directions to the room, she felt like she was trapped in a labyrinth. Screw the security system and guards spread throughout the building, the confusing layout was enough to disorient anyone who didn’t belong.

A stray balloon that escaped from a room at the end of the hall served as y/n’s personal beacon. She was working the night shift at the emergency room that night, so she couldn’t stay long at the party. She at least wanted to say hi to everyone and wish Bob a happy birthday before she left for the hospital.

Halfway down the hall, y/n was stopped in her tracks when a familiar face turned the corner. Tall, dark, and handsome as ever stood Captain Ethan Richards. y/n shuddered at the sight of him, a stark contrast to the attraction she felt just a few months ago. She prayed that her ex would walk in the opposite direction, would turn around, do anything except see her down the hall. There was nowhere for her to hide while he passed, so she stood in the hallway like a sitting duck. As luck would have it, he glanced back in her direction and did a double take.

Whatever the Captain had set out to do in the building was forgotten as he stalked toward y/n like a predator hunting its prey. y/n gulped and tried to school her deer-caught-in-headlights expression. Ethan didn’t deserve to see her so vulnerable. He didn’t deserve to see her at all.

“y/n, what a nice surprise!” Ethan greeted with a grin.

“Ethan.” y/n’s response was curt and accompanied by a tight-lipped frown. Ethan let his eyes drag down y/n’s scrub-clad body. A few months ago, she would’ve felt flattered. Now she just felt dirty. His eyes lingered on the cake box in her hands for a moment.

“You always were so good at baking. Mind if I try a bite, sweetcheeks?” The innuendo and his hungry stare made y/n nauseous. Her frown deepened. Ethan, evidently unsatisfied by her reaction, decided to change tactics. y/n watched his face harden and thought that he could’ve served his country much more effectively in Guantánamo Bay. Never in y/n’s life had anyone been able to get under her skin like this.

Ethan was smart and observant, she had to give him that. Between the lone balloon down the hall, the cake in y/n’s hands that read Happy Birthday Bob! and the distant lively voices of Top Gun’s best squadron, he pieced together what y/n was here for.

“You sleeping through a whole squadron now? I saw you getting cozy with Bradshaw, Machado, and Seresin at The Hard Deck,” Ethan’s voice was low and sinister as he stepped toward her. Everything in y/n screamed at her to take a step back and get away from him, but she stood her ground. His accusation took her aback, there was no denying that, but she refused to be bested by him.

“You would know what that’s like, wouldn’t you?” y/n jabbed, her voice cold. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a look of hurt flash across Ethan’s eyes but it was gone a second later. His jaw ticked in frustration. Ethan could always dish it out, but he wasn’t as good at taking it.

A cruel smile overtook his face before he made his next remark. y/n braced herself. She knew his words would seek to cut through her like a knife, but nothing could’ve prepared her for what he said.

“At least I was able to return your engagement ring. That wasn’t cheap, sweetheart. Unlike you, apparently,” Ethan tutted and rocked on his heels. He looked satisfied when y/n’s face dropped. She was certain a punch straight to the gut would’ve hurt less than his revelation. Now that stopped y/n in her tracks. She was at a loss for words. She couldn’t even manage a pathetic sputter as her eyes widened in shock.

He was going to propose? y/n was lost in thought. The worst part was that she knew she would’ve said yes. Before she found him cheating, she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with Ethan. She made a secret wedding board on Pinterest. She started brainstorming baby names after they celebrated their year-and-a-half anniversary.

Rooster checked his wristwatch. y/n was supposed to arrive 10 minutes ago. It was plausible that she got lost, but something in his gut told him something was wrong. He excused himself from the party and made his way out into the hallway. Rooster was surprised to see Captain Richards facing away from him just down the hall; as far as Bradley knew, the captain had no business being around Top Gun’s section of the base. Bradley couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed when Richards shifted to the side, his tall frame no longer hiding y/n from Rooster’s view.

Rooster set off towards the two with long deliberate strides. He had no plan of what to say or do when he approached them, but y/n’s color-drained face was enough to have him moving fast. Once Rooster stood just feet away, the sight of y/n’s wide eyes and white-knuckle grip on the cake box had him on the defensive.

“Is everything okay out here?” Rooster asked with as much authority as he could muster. The lieutenant hoped his worry didn’t seep into his tone, but his focus on y/n and y/n alone gave him away. Ethan smirked as he glanced between Bradley and y/n. y/n was doing her best not to cower as she stood in a daze with her lips pressed into a thin line. Bradley, on the other hand, was laser-focused and struggling to hide his bubbling anger.

“Just fine, lieutenant. I was just leaving. Bye, sweetheart,” Ethan delivered a condescending wink and licked his lips before leaving. A moment of silence passed as y/n stared holes into Ethan’s back until he turned down a corridor hidden from her view. Rooster’s wild eyes darted across y/n’s face while she was still trapped in her daze. The aviator had never seen her so shaken in their months of knowing each other.

When Ethan was far out of sight and earshot, y/n slowly turned towards Bradley. She could hardly look him in the eye as she wordlessly handed over the cake. Confusion etched its way across Rooster’s face when y/n took a step back towards the door instead of toward the party.

“Tell Bob I said happy birthday,” y/n voice was quiet as she looked down at the ground and turned to leave. Rooster gently grabbed her wrist before she could walk away.

“y/n, are you okay? Did he say something?” y/n bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Rooster’s worried eyes and delicate touch were enough to have her tearing up as his question went unanswered. y/n cleared her throat and met his eyes, unable to hide the unshed tears in her own.

“I have to go. I’m gonna be late for work,” y/n said flatly. She was honestly surprised that her voice didn’t betray her and let her emotions spill out everywhere. Before Bradley could stop her again, she tugged her arm out of his grip and quickly made her way towards the exit. Rooster stood in the hallway alone with a homemade cake in hand as he watched her go, looking like a lost puppy.

A few twisted turns later, y/n finally saw a red exit sign hanging above an exterior door. This too felt like a beacon, but for an entirely different reason. She haphazardly burst through the doors and made her way towards the parking lot on unsteady legs. Air couldn’t seem to fill her lungs enough as she took shallow heaves, her shoulders shaking from the motion. y/n couldn’t hold in the sobs that wracked through her body once she was in her car. Her uncontrolled breathing punctuated the onset of a panic attack.

y/n got upset countless times over the past few months about her breakup, but she hadn’t had a panic attack like this since she walked in on Ethan with his mistress in their bed. She suspected that also had to do with the fact that this was the first time she spoke to Ethan face-to-face since before the move. The last time she was within arms reach of her ex was when they broke up. y/n cringed as she remembered how she yelled at him with red-rimmed eyes and a packed duffle bag slung over her shoulder as she shoved their house key against his chest.

After 20 minutes of unsuccessfully trying to clean herself up and regain a semblance of composure, y/n called in sick for work. Her manager didn’t ask questions–y/n’s congested voice and sniffles were enough of an explanation–and y/n didn’t give answers.

y/n was M.I.A. for two days. No calls, no texts, and a missed work shift. Shitty reality TV played in the background while y/n ate a tub of ice cream, surrounded by tear-stained tissues in her bed. She looked like a mess, but nothing could compare to how she felt inside.

Rooster knew y/n slept through most of the day following her night shifts. As far as he knew, she went to work that night. But it wasn’t like her to go more than a few hours without answering texts. So when a few hours turned into a day and then a day and a half, and his calls went unanswered for the fourth time, Rooster went to visit y/n at her house.

y/n heard muffled knocking at her door from underneath her duvet and several blankets. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and even if she were, she still had no intention of getting out of bed. The turning of the door lock and squeaky hinges had her sitting up straight in bed. No one had a key to her house. Was someone breaking in? y/n frantically searched for her phone amidst her bed covers, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Heavy footsteps made their way down the hall and y/n’s shaky thumb hovered over Rooster’s phone number before a voice spoke out.

“y/n/n, are you in there? It’s me,” Bradley’s voice was gentle but could be heard clearly through the door. y/n let out a sigh of relief when she recognized the voice. She made a mental note to ask him later about how he managed to unlock the front door. Just as quickly as the relief flooded through her, it was replaced by anxiety. To put it lightly, y/n looked like shit.

“Go away, Roos. I’m fine,” y/n’s words weren’t even slightly believable. She knew Rooster wouldn’t just go away–not after she’d been radio silent for so long and the last time he saw her she practically ran away with tears in her eyes. y/n tried to make herself look as presentable as she could after spending forty-some hours in bed. Her attempts were pretty fruitless; she just barely managed to smooth down her hair, but there wasn’t much she could do about her mascara-tear-stained cheeks.

Rooster gave a soft knock before he opened her bedroom door, letting light from the hallway spill into her darkened room. His eyes adjusted to the light difference while he took in the bags under y/n’s puffy eyes and mascara streaks across her face. His heart broke at her disheveled state.

y/n shied away from his gaze; she didn’t want him to see her so weak. Bradley had never seen her seem so small. As he moved towards her bed, he reminisced on the first day they met, when y/n was taking care of him at his bedside.

When y/n still wouldn’t look at him, Bradley reached out and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest when she saw the worry filling his eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was drag this perfect man into her bullshit. Her life was messy, especially now, and he didn’t deserve that.

y/n tucked herself against Bradley’s body when he outstretched his arms, beckoning her towards him. He rubbed circles against her back and softly smiled when he realized the fabric separating their skin was a shirt of his that went missing a few weeks ago. Her legs were unsteady from lack of use, but Rooster was unfazed (after all, this wasn’t the first time he supported y/n on wobbly legs, especially after certain activities).

“Have you had anything to eat?” The words ‘other than ice cream’ were unspoken, but y/n received the message nonetheless. She shook her head wordlessly against his chest.

y/n couldn’t help but crack a smile when Rooster, ever the Navy man, came up with a plan on the spot. He’d go to the kitchen to make y/n dinner and suggested that she do whatever she needed to make her feel better–stretch her legs, splash some water on her face, or lay back down until dinner was ready. y/n murmured “don’t burn down my kitchen,” and relished in the rumble of Bradley’s chest as he chuckled.

Dinner was quiet. Bradley and y/n didn’t speak much. She muttered a quiet thank you towards the end and Rooster nodded appreciatively. Most of all, he was just happy to see her consuming an actual meal after surviving on Ben and Jerry’s alone for the past 48 hours. After dinner, y/n washed the dishes. Rooster insisted that he do it, but y/n argued that she needed to do something after being dormant for two days. She left out the fact that she mostly just wanted to run her hands under the scalding hot water to feel something.

Neither of them were sure what to do after dinner. y/n stood in front of the sink rigidly and Bradley remained seated hesitantly at the table. The heavy silence was broken when Rooster spoke up after a bout of eye contact.

“I’m here for you,” Bradley cleared his throat before continuing, his eyes never leaving y/n’s. “If you want me to go, I will, but I’ll camp out on the couch all night if you want me to so you’re not alone.” Rooster’s sincere gaze was enough to pull at y/n’s heartstrings. His words even managed to bring a small smile to her face, too.

“This couch is terrible. I’ve ejected from F-18s going warp speed and laying on this sad excuse for a sofa has given me worse back pain,” Rooster groaned during one of their regular movie nights a few weeks ago.

“Maybe you’re just getting old, Brad. Your body can’t bounce back and move the way it used to,” y/n teased with an infectious grin. Rooster scoffed and brought his hand down to slap her ass cheek.

“Last I checked, you weren’t complaining about the way my body moves, Patches,” Bradley quipped back with raised eyebrows. A blush spread across y/n’s cheeks at the insinuation.

“Touché, Bradshaw. Touché.”

y/n bit her lip as she thought. The guilt settled in her chest dissipated at Bradley’s words. The pilot was willing and maybe even wanted to be there for her–that realization both comforted and terrified y/n. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but think that he didn’t deserve to be caught up in her problems. She strongly considered sending him away–even though she really, really didn’t want to–but it was too late to shut him out now. Plus, whether she was ready to admit it or not, she needed him.

The last thing y/n expected was becoming attached to someone, much less another Navy guy, so soon after her breakup regardless of whether or not she was over it.

At this point she truly was–over her breakup, that is. y/n grieved the loss of the relationship and processed everything within a few weeks of her and Ethan calling it quits. Well, more like y/n telling Ethan to go fuck himself and delete her number.

The real reason y/n went through an entire box of tissues and stayed in bed for two days was that Ethan was able to get under her skin, even now. After everything that happened–the whirlwind romance and the promise of a forever love and a future and then the cheating and the breakup–the person who she trusted most and betrayed her the worst was still able to bother her. y/n hated that Ethan still had power over her. And she was angry at herself for that.

With that clusterfuck in mind, y/n still couldn’t quite pinpoint why she spent so much time crying. It was clear she still had some healing to do because Ethan wasn’t worth her tears, not by a long shot.

So, with bated breath, she nodded and accepted Bradley’s offer to stay. Stay. The concept of Bradley staying by her side felt like warm honey for a sore throat. Maybe this could be her remedy.

For the first time in days, y/n glanced at her appearance in a nearby mirror. Rooster’s shirt looked good on her–something she always teased him about and Rooster agreed, she did look better in his clothes–but everything else was a bit of a mess. y/n stiffened when she realized Rooster was seeing her like this. She was a total mess and he chose to stay.

“Actually, Roos… I, uh, I need to take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” y/n asked shyly. Rooster’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the offer (yes, yes, a thousand times yes) and he stood up faster than he ever had in his life. Rooster knew the last thing on y/n’s mind right then was anything sexual, but she was letting him in. She was letting him close and being vulnerable and that’s something. That’s everything.

The bathroom was dark, illuminated only by the dwindling sunset light streaming through the window and a small night light by the sink. For a while, they stood in silence while Rooster held y/n in his arms and gently swayed them side to side. The warm water and sure beating of Bradley’s heart against her ear soothed y/n, almost enough to make her forget about the past couple of days.

Eventually the shower became productive. y/n’s mascara and salty tear stains washed away with a little bit of soap and the warm water helped ease the pain. Halfway through washing her hair, y/n turned back to look at Rooster. He ceased his massage on her scalp and waited patiently as y/n formed her words.

“Ethan told me he was going to propose. He told me he bought an engagement ring but he returned it after we broke up,” y/n admitted tiredly. Rooster sucked in a breath. Of all the things he might’ve expected y/n to say, that was not one of them. y/n chuckled at Bradley’s reaction. Yeah, that’s how I felt too. After recovering from the initial shock, he searched her face for any indication of how she felt. The limited light made it difficult, so he cautiously asked her how she felt about that. y/n shrugged noncommittally.

“If he had proposed before I found out he cheated, I would’ve said yes. Things were good between us, you know? But there’s no way in hell I’d even think about getting back together with him now. So it’s all kind of pointless to worry about, I guess,” y/n breathed out. It felt good to get that off her chest. Thinking out loud to Bradley for a few minutes in the shower was somehow more productive than the endless thinking she did over the past couple of days. Rooster didn’t push her to say anymore, he just listened intently. He felt a little selfish for the relief that flooded through him when y/n firmly stated she would never get back with Ethan.

The rest of the shower followed a similar pattern: Rooster and y/n worked in tandem to wash her hair and body, they took breaks to let the warm water cascade over her skin, and y/n spoke up every once in a while.

“He basically called me a barrack bunny,” y/n said with a huff. Now that stopped Rooster in his tracks. He ceased the movement of the washcloth against y/n’s back and slowly turned her to face him.

“He said what?” Rooster asked steadily, though a simmering rage began brewing inside him. y/n recognized his anger. Over the past few months, she’d gotten pretty good at picking up on his emotions–he was still a man after all and had a complex relationship with displaying emotions outwardly. It was clear to y/n that his anger wasn’t directed toward her, but rather at Ethan, and she was tired of covering for him.

y/n took a deep breath before explaining that Ethan must have seen how she interacted with the squadron the first night she met everyone at The Hard Deck. y/n and Rooster made no efforts to hide the way they cozied up to each other that night; Coyote frequently referred to y/n by ‘home girl’ and gave her fist bumps; and Hangman even managed to pull y/n into a hug before he left.

Rooster stood lost in thought while y/n rinsed the remaining soap from her body. He scoffed at the thought that someone with Ethan’s track record would judge anyone else’s possible sexual escapades. As Bradley helped y/n wrap a towel around her body, he firmly decided that the next time he saw Captain Ethan Richards off-base, Rooster would give the man a black eye.

Bradley wiped the steam fog from the bathroom mirror so y/n could do her skincare routine. Rooster learned just how important this regimen was to her on two occasions. The first was an impromptu spa night she roped him into. y/n didn’t force Rooster to paint his nails with her, but she did treat him to a sheet mask. Rooster would never admit it to his fellow aviators, but he especially enjoyed the bath she let him join; the soothing warm water ebbing at their skin was complimented by bath oils, a bath fizzy, candles, and some well-deserved glasses of wine.

The second time Rooster found out the value y/n placed in her skincare was during one of their many sleepovers at her house.

Rooster was pulled from his post-nut daze when he felt the mattress shifting beside him. y/n tiptoed to the bathroom and began quietly digging through her cabinets.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Rooster called out and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His voice was rough and riddled with exhaustion, but his curiosity and desire to have y/n cuddled by his side got the best of him. She knocked over a bottle in surprise when she heard his voice.

“Sorry, Roos! I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m just doing my skincare routine.”

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face and pulled his brows together.

“We literally just screwed for almost two hours straight and you’re worried about putting on lotion?” Bradley’s voice came out with an incredulous deadpan.

“If you’re gonna keep me up all night, I need to at least apply my eye cream, Bradshaw.”

Bradley stood with his chest pressed against y/n’s back, his arms linked around her waist. He let her be for the most part and pressed intermittent kisses to her exposed neck. y/n pulled at her skin in between applying serums and creams. Miraculously, her time working in hospitals hadn’t given her too many wrinkles or gray hair, but she felt like her youthful beauty was dwindling. After all, the past few months took quite a toll on her. It was especially easy to get stuck in her head when one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life was standing right behind her, looking absolutely flawless.

The intrusive thoughts kept piling up and tears started to pool in y/n’s eyes. Rooster had seen months worth of tears already that night, so y/n buried her face into her hands. Bradley’s head snapped up at the motion. He kissed her temple and gently pulled at her wrists so he could see her face in the reflection of the mirror. The silent tears streaming down her face broke his heart.

“What’s wrong, y/n/n?” Rooster asked, concern painting his features. y/n wouldn’t meet his eyes while she picked at her nails. Her lips twisted together as she took a shaky breath.

“I just worry that I’m not enough, you know? I mean… I’m not getting any younger and I get exhausted from work so I can't just put out all the time and…” y/n started rambling and got herself worked up. All her insecurities spilled out in a flurry of words. “that’s why Ethan cheated, I guess,” y/n’s voice was small by the end of her rant.

Rooster’s jaw clenched at the pain Richards put y/n through. He squeezed his arms tight around her middle and pressed a kiss to her temple before turning her to face him directly.

“What that asshole did does not define you,” Rooster’s voice was steady and his gaze was serious. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You work hard and the world is a better place because of you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’m sure I’ll think the same thing years and years from now.” Bradley paused to let his words sink in. He softly squeezed her hips before continuing.

“He was a damn fool for letting you go. But I’m so glad he did. Maybe that’s selfish but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you in my arms right now.” y/n let out a small gasp and Bradley held her gaze for as long as she’d let him. The weight of his words was heavy, but y/n felt lighter than she had in days.

After that night a few weeks ago, Rooster and y/n were closer than ever. y/n supposed that was bound to happen after Bradley saw her at her lowest. She felt good when she was with Rooster. Really good. y/n was an independent woman and tried not to rely too much on other people, especially after what happened with Ethan, but she couldn’t help the gravitational pull she felt towards Bradley.

The only problem was that her travel nursing contract would be over in just a month.

y/n didn’t have any solid plans of what she’d do after finishing up her time at the base hospital. From the moment she got there, her plan was to leave. Maybe she’d sign a contract in a different city, maybe she’d go stay with friends and family for a while. There was nothing keeping her here. Not until now.

Each day she spent with Rooster she couldn’t help the pang of pain in her chest when she remembered her mental countdown. She also felt guilty that he didn’t know when her contract was up. She told him on their first date that it was a four-month contract, but they hadn’t really talked about it since then.

When there were just 29 days left in her contract, Rooster went over to y/n’s house with a pizza box in hand. y/n greeted him at the door with a smile, but her face fell when she saw the solemn look on Bradley’s face. She shut the door behind him and cautiously followed him to the kitchen. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, y/n tried to get Rooster’s attention but he busied himself with gathering plates and drinks for them.

“Roos, what’s wrong?” y/n asked hesitantly. Rooster typically didn’t show when he was upset, but y/n saw right through him. He set his jaw with a heavy sigh before turning to face y/n.

“I’m being deployed for 3 weeks. It’s a shorter mission but…,” he trailed off with a shrug. y/n was surprised to see him like this. Normally Rooster was ecstatic and couldn’t help but grin when he talked about his job. There was nothing he loved more than flying, so to see him disappointed about being sent on a mission was strange.

“Why are you upset?” y/n asked carefully. Rooster’s brows scrunched together and his head tilted to the side as if to say Isn’t it obvious?

“I’ll be in the middle of nowhere and you’ll be here. Reception will be shoddy at best, so I don’t know if I’ll even be able to call you.” He looked like someone kicked his puppy. y/n’s heart ached at the thought of being away from Rooster for so long, but her teasing nature got the better of her.

“Are you saying you’re going to miss me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” y/n wiggled her eyebrows and rounded the island to wrap her arms around his waist. Bradley rolled his eyes and leaned down to peck her lips.

“Yeah, I am, nurse y/n,” Bradley teased, throwing her own professional title back at her.

They ate dinner on the couch while a cheesy rom-com played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid any attention to it. y/n sat with her legs thrown across Rooster’s lap and he used his free hand to massage her exposed skin. They told each other about their days–y/n shared the meal-friendly versions of her interesting cases at the ER and Rooster explained some of the offense maneuvers he worked on in training. The aviator slang still felt like a foreign language to y/n, but she was slowly understanding bits and pieces.

The light-hearted mood dissipated after they finished eating when the conversation drifted back towards Rooster’s upcoming deployment. The mission was classified so there wasn’t much he could tell y/n, but he could at least give her a vague timeline.

Her stomach dropped when Bradley told her he’d be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. If the mission stayed on schedule, there would only be one week left in her contract by the time he got back. But y/n put on a brave face. Rooster was the one being sent into enemy territory, not her. This wasn’t about her. The last thing she or the Navy needed was for him to worry about her while he was flying at warp speed with missiles on his tail.

y/n moved to straddle Rooster’s lap and tossed both of their plates to the side. Her nails gently scratched at the nape of his neck and she brought her lips close to his ear.

“We better make tonight count then, huh?” she whispered. Rooster was done for. Without missing a beat, he shot up from the couch, holding y/n close to him with his hands on the back of her thighs. y/n emitted a squeal when Rooster playfully slapped her ass cheek on the way to her bedroom

Bradley spent the night at y/n’s house, opting to leave earlier than normal in the morning so he could swing by his house and grab his things. His 4:30 a.m. alarm was nothing short of a rude awakening for y/n, but it was even worse to watch Bradley get ready to leave.

y/n held his hand, trailing behind him to the door in a sleepy stupor. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sobered up once they stood next to his bronco in the early morning darkness.

“Be safe out there, Roos. Come back in one piece. And don’t do anything stupid while I’m not there to patch you up,” y/n said with a small smile in between yawns, but she was completely serious. Rooster couldn’t help but chuckle and grin at the sentiment.

“I will, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I get the chance,” Rooster promised with a kiss to the top of her head while y/n hugged him tighter than she ever had before. The kiss they shared was passionate and deep and far too scandalous to be happening out in the street where y/n’s neighbors could see, but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

y/n leaned across the open window of the closed driver's door to press a final peck to Bradley’s lips. After he put his key in the ignition and started up the old car, she poked his chest.

“This isn’t a goodbye, just so you know,” y/n said pointedly. There was a double meaning to her words when her thoughts drifted to the quickly approaching end of her contract. Rooster nodded with a grin, oblivious to her secondary thoughts.

“I’ll see ya later, baby.”

a/n: rooster is an ass man. you can try to change my mind but you'll probably be unsuccessful. as always, reblogs & comments are much appreciated! i love hearing what you guys think :)

edit: i changed my mind. rooster is a boob man. he just happens to be fond of y/n's ass too.

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #nurse!reader #rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #a safe place to land #tw: food mention #tw: alcohol mention #tw: panic attack

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coyotesamachado · 2 years

Text

Wouldn’t you love to love her? 1/3

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Original Female Character

Then Hangman is telling him to follow her, and it takes a moment for him to blink out of his reverie. He scrambles out his seat and Phoenix barks out a laugh. No one knows who else is going on the mission, but they all know that Mac will be one of those pilots. A lot of them would be lying if they said that they hadn’t known that from the minute she walked into the Hard Deck that first night. While all of them were cocky pilots, outwardly so, Mac was just confident. The rest of them were quick to try and discredit each other's abilities, trying to make themselves seem bigger and badder, but she just simply let her flying do the talking. However, with her being a guarantee to fly, it means there’s a guarantee that she might not come back, so maybe that affords her a few little luxuries.

Long time reader, first time publishing something for other people to read. This was heavily inspired, loosely based on "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac. Apparently there's just something about Fleetwood Mac and shirtless men with a 80's editing wash that just gets to me. I say semi-reader insert because the main character is never identified by anything other than her callsign.

Callsign is "Mac". I know I'm so creative.

It has been about two weeks since I saw the movie so if anything is out of whack in terms of sequencing, I apologize. I also want to apologize if there's any mistakes in Americanisms. I am Australian, and though I have been writing for very long time as American characters, sometimes the Australian still peeks through.

This is cross posted from my AO3, link in the source.

WC: 5560.

Warnings: eventual smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, drinking, safety first, gratuitous use of commas. Under the cut because it is 18+ Reader discretion is advised.

Part two. Part Three.

Who will be her lover?

They watch her take off, can hear the smile on her face when she speaks over the comms.

They were brought back to Top Gun because they were the best of the best, as Phoenix reminded them the night before, but when Mac takes to the air with a lightness and grace, even Hangman has to admit that she’s the best among them. She has this air of coolness that when she’s in the air, nothing phases her. She deals with the g-force amazingly and her breath control is insane. Hangman would make a comment about it if he wasn’t so impressed. She breathes out slowly as she pulls the F-18 into a straight climb, narrowly missing being “shot down” by Maverick. She barely makes a sound over the comms as she shoots through the sky, where they could hear everyone else’s heavy breaths, snide comments, and quick rebuffs. She flips her plane easily, dropping down behind Maverick in their dogfight exercise, her sight set on him as she aims, but he drops out quickly before the kill tone can sound.

They fly around for what feels like hours before Maverick’s breathing heavy and Mac’s hands are shaking. He tells her to land her plane, calling it a draw, and the rest of the class are looking at one another wondering what that means for her push-ups. She has sweat dripping down the back of her neck, the tank underneath her flight suit heavily drenched. Her breathing finally seems heavy, her chest heaving despite the broad grin on her face. She grips Maverick’s hand in a firm shake, and he’s shaking his head at her with a laugh. She passes him her helmet and walks back into the hanger to the slow clap from the rest of the team with the exception of Rooster who is still completing his push-ups.

She waits there while everyone else is showering and when he doesn’t come back once the hanger is cleared, she goes in search of him. Hondo isn’t out there anymore, but Rooster is still doing his push-ups.

“They’re all gone Rooster, you can stop,” she says as she approaches, but he only gives her a grunt in reply and continues.

She goes to walk away when she hears the choked-out sob. She doesn’t turn to stare, instead she sits down on the tarmac looking out over the runways. She’s not too far away but she’s close enough that he knows she’s there if he needs her.

She moves easily through the crowd, spinning and ducking and weaving through the hands and voices trying to capture her attention. Her feet move with the agility of a dancer, and she supposes that she was in another life. In another life, she was dancing on the stages of the world, high on tip toe, graceful and delicate. But it’s not another life, it’s this one so she’s dancing through the crowded bar, four beer bottles dangling from her nimble fingers.

“MAA-AAAC!!!!” rings through her ears in a singsong fashion and she grins as she approaches her new friends. Rooster’s voice is loud over the noise in The Hard Deck and it only makes her chuckle. Passing out the beers to Bob and Phoenix, she holds Rooster’s just out of reach, teasing it back and forth, frustration etched in his forehead until she holds it out a little too long and he’s able to grasp it, snatching it from her. Her laughter rings out loudly, and Bob’s and Phoenix's joins it until after Rooster has swallowed his first mouthful and gets over it.

She sits with them and brings her own bottle to her lips, tipping her head back for a moment, and Rooster can’t help but stare for a moment as her throat bobs when she swallows. Phoenix coughs when she catches him, and Mac opens her eyes glancing at the woman she considers her closest friend here as she continues to down her beer. She misses the way Rooster’s eyes darken, but Phoenix and Bob don’t. A look is shared between them before Rooster blinks and brings his eyes to anywhere but her.

“You look like you need a dance partner, Mac.”

Hangman’s in her ear, and her hips stutter from their swaying movement, the skirt of her dress still moving despite the sudden stop.

“And you think that’s going to be you?” she asks, a smirk appearing on her lips. She twirls away from him, her laughter following as she sways her way over to the bar and parks herself next to Bob.

“How many times do men need to hear the word no?” she asks him with a sigh before picking out a peanut from his bowl.

“Some men, only once,” he states factually, “But men like Hangman, probably another dozen.”

Mac smiles at the smirk on his face, happy to see him enjoying himself. Anything to bring Hangman down a peg and prop Bob up just a little more. His quiet demeanor reminds her of her own. She appreciates having him at Top Gun, a grounding force when it should be so easy to fall into a cocky stride alongside the other pilots.

“Do you need another drink?” she asks him, turning back to the bar to get Penny’s attention. He barely has a chance to answer before she’s ordering two beers on her tab and passing one over to Bob. Then she’s standing up again and dancing away. He can’t help but be impressed that she’s the same on the ground as she is in the air. She’s calm, cool and collected, never staying in one place too long and constantly dancing away from scenarios. He admires that about her.

She finds her way over to Phoenix, her eyes fixating on the other woman from the moment they land on her. She takes a swig of beer as she shimmies over to her. When she reaches her, her beer is thrust into Rooster’s hand without a sideways glance before she extends her other hand to Phoenix.

“Dance with me?” she asks, her whole body swaying to the music. Phoenix lets out a laugh before she finishes off her own beer. She shakes her head but takes Mac’s hand, allowing her to twirl her before pulling her close and pushing her away again. The smiles are bright on both their faces as Phoenix sidesteps while Mac spins around her. She pulls the other woman close, rocking their bodies together in a dance reminiscent of a funky waltz. They move like that for the rest of the song and the next before Phoenix pulls away, breathless with laughter.

“No, I need another drink,” she says, walking away from a pouting Mac. The guys around them rush to look away, like the two women were not the center of attention for the last five and a half minutes.

Mac turns, her eyes scanning over the guys around them. They settle on Rooster, seated on one of the chairs by the pool tables in the back. She takes a seat on his lap, wrapping an arm around in neck in a comfortable manner. While she is relaxed in her seat, taking her beer from his hand, he is significantly less comfortable. Her proximity was making him more drunk than her beer that he had been drinking. When his hand rests on her knee with nowhere else to put it, she smiles brightly at him, and he’d deny that he sits up straighter, his body tensing. His lips still twitch up in a smile in return. She sips at her beer as her attention turns back to the bar. Her fingers tap out a rhythm on his shoulder, humming happily. No one says anything about it being the longest they’ve ever seen her sit still when she isn’t in a plane.

She signals to Penny rather than getting up, a surprise to just about everyone around them. Rooster doesn’t say anything as she hands both of them their beers, an eyebrow raised and a questioning glint in her eye. Mac is watching everyone around them carefully, daring someone to say something, anything, but no one does. She stays seated on Rooster’s lap, and he refuses to make any movement that would make her run away like a frightened cat. He knows he’s not the one in control right now. She watches Phoenix attempt to beat Hangman in pool, her nails scratching gently at the hairs on the nape of Rooster’s neck and his thumb starts rubbing circles over the fabric of her dress until it slowly begins to ride up. He stills when he makes contact with her skin, but she doesn’t stop her own comforting movements, so he continues.

The night slows out and when Mac finally stands, she spins quickly, the skirt of her dress flaring out. Everyone in their team sees when she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but she has the kind of cool confidence that allows her to walk over to the bar without embarrassment despite the whistles. She closes out her tab and waltzes out of the bar with a wave of her hand to Bob and Phoenix, without a look back at him.

Rooster follows her, a quick nod to Penny who is grinning like the cat who got the cream at getting to see this all unfold. He walks out into the parking lot and she captures his attention like she practiced it. She’s swaying to the beat inside her head as she starts walking back towards base. He wonders if that’s how she stays so calm in the air, some unheard tune playing constantly in her head. It would not surprise him if that were the case.

He catches up to her easily, an arm slung low around her waist. She looks up at him, that same easy confidence written over her face as she smiles at up at him.

“I wasn’t sure you got the invitation.”

“I didn’t. Hangman of all people had to spell it out for me,” he admits, and she nods slowly. They’re both silent as they walk, his steps nearly clumsy next to her’s as she seems like she’s floating.

“You good enough to drive me home?” she asks him and he nods, directing her towards his Bronco. It’s a quiet drive back to the barracks, but it’s a comfortable one. Her hand is warm and heavy, high on his thigh, making her intentions well known. It makes it incredibly difficult for him to concentrate on the road. She hums along to the songs on the radio while he sings quietly. It’s almost like they’ve been doing this dance for years, rather than a week or two.

His arm wraps around her again, pulling her close as they walk through the barracks and to her room. She unlocks her door, pushing it open before turning her attention back to him.

Just as she’s wondering if she’ll have to make the first move again, Rooster moves, the arm around her waist curling back towards himself and bringing her with him. She blinks up at him, her smile still so bright even though the night surrounds them.

“Mac,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to tuck the stray hair clinging to her cheek, back behind her ear. He’d call it a cliché if his heart wasn’t beating loudly in this moment. Her eyes glance down to his lips and he peeks his tongue out to wet them.

“Rooster,” she returns softly, her fingers walking up his chest until she can wrap her arms around his neck and press herself closer to him. “If you don’t kiss me soon, I’m walking in there and closing the door behind me.”

It’s a threat, and one they both know she’ll make good on. His laugh rumbles through his chest, and she can feel it from where she’s pushed herself up against him. She’s about to pull away, disappointment blooming through her, when the hand on the side of her face turns from soft and calming, to gripping her chin and tilting her face towards him. He still has to duck down a little, but then his lips gently touch her’s.

That’s all the gentle he gets before she pushes back hard, her fingernails scratching hard at the hairs at the nape of his neck. It’s reminiscent of only an hour before. She bites at his bottom lip and the gasp that follows is all she needs to push her tongue forward and deepen their kiss.

It’s dizzying, how fast the speed has changed, before Rooster remembers that they’re pilots. They’re both used to idling on a tarmac or ship before getting up to speeds fast enough to take off. Satisfied that he’s not going to run away from her now, Mac drags her hands back down his chest until she settles with toying with the hem of the tight, white t-shirt underneath one of his many Hawaiian shirts. Both of his hands drop to her ass, squeezing at her cheeks like most of the guys in their team had been longing to do. She huffs out a laugh into their kiss before she breaks it. Taking a step backwards, she tugs on the open sides of his shirt, dragging him along with her.

She turns them before they reach the doorway and pushes him through. She walks in after him with deliberate strides until she can kick the door closed behind them. Rooster doesn’t allow her to turn around and lock it before he’s pushing her up against it. He kisses her again, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her to where he wants her. She reaches for the door knob behind her, flicking the lock and praying that Phoenix doesn’t come back early, or if she does, she has the decency to knock. But that’s the last she thinks of Phoenix as Rooster starts kissing down her neck, nipping and biting as he goes. She hums happily, her nails dragging down his back before she brings her hands back around to his front and slides the Hawaiian shirt from his shoulders. It catches on his elbows and he laughs, untangling his hands from her hair so he can drop it unceremoniously on the floor. While he’s there, she tucks her hands under his t-shirt and pushes it up as her hands run the length of his torso.

He pulls it over his head, and it’s joining his other shirt while she drinks in the sight of him without anyone around to judge her. Phoenix had caught her staring at him the day of dogfight football, and had specifically run at her, tackling her to the ground before any of the other guys could catch her. Could she really be blamed when he was dancing around like that after his touchdown? The two of them had stayed up that night gossiping, and she’d whispered quietly that maybe she wanted him.

She goes to move again, but Rooster’s shaking his head and stepping back into her, crowding her against the wall. His fingers are delicate as he slides the strings she calls straps on her dress down over her shoulders so the only thing holding it up is the zipper in the back.

She brings his lips back to hers with both hands on either side of his face, trying to bring him to her as close as possible. His mustache tickles at her nose but she finds herself not caring, it's certainly attractive on him. She arches her back, her head knocking back against the door, so she can press her chest into his. He’s smart enough to get the hint at that moment and his hands are hot on the skin of her shoulder blades. They’re only there a moment before he’s ripping the zip of her dress down and she falls back against the door so gravity can do its thing and her dress is sliding to the ground between them. He pulls away from their kiss, his eyes holding her’s like he’s too respectful to glance down. She expects that from someone like Bob, but not Rooster. Her hands trace up the curve of her own stomach, fingers dipping under the line of her breasts, softly caressing the skin until she’s tugging on her nipples and his attention is finally drawn downwards.

He blinks and swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing and she smirks.

“Come on Rooster, no need to be gentle, I promise I won’t break,” she whispers, like anything louder will break the tension in the room and bring him out of this. She doesn’t want him running now, not when she’s on the edge of death and he might be joining her.

He pushes her hands out of the way, grabbing them in one of his own and holding them above her head. He looms over her and kicks her legs wider apart, pushing his thigh up against her core. She moans deep in the back of throat, and the noise catches both of them off guard. But soon he’s smirking and his free hand returns to toy with her nipple, pulling and pinching until he’s happy with its pebbling. She’s rolling her hips against the strong muscle of his thigh, and if she wasn’t so turned on, she’d be embarrassed by how desperate she seems. He bites at the junction where her neck meets her collarbone and she gasps, snapping her hips forward.

“Please Rooster,” she pleads, and it sounds so foreign to him because he genuinely doesn’t think she should ever have to plead for anything in her life. But it’s his name, his callsign, falling from her lips in a breathless fashion, and he wouldn’t mind hearing it again.

But he decides to placate her, knowing that if he doesn’t, she’ll kick him out into the hallway with blue balls, leaving him with the knowledge that she’s taking care of herself.

His hand follows the line of her body from the curve of her breast to the dip at the top of her hip. He runs his finger through the top of her laced panties while their tongues battle for the dominance that neither of them are sure they want to win. It’s much more fun to fight for it. She whines and huffs, trying to move her hips so that he’s touching her right where she wants him. But he moves his hand back with her hips, teasing her the same way she teased him with the beer bottle all those nights ago. She huffs out a sigh and he finally pushes forward, his finger sliding easily between her folds. She sighs happily at the contact, grateful for more than just humping herself on his leg. It soon turns to a soft moan as he finds her clit and slowly runs his finger over it in circles. She wants it harder, faster, but she can only roll her hips so far because the grip he has on her wrists is just the right amount of tight that makes her body tremble.

“Bradley,” she whines by way of asking for more. He groans at his name falling from her lips that he practically bruises them when he kisses her again. He pushes a finger inside of her, his thumb taking over rubbing circles on her clit. He’s quick to add a second as she bucks her hips forward to meet his hand. Her own hands strain against his grip because all she wants to do is touch him, but at this point he’s so determined to make her come on his fingers that he doesn’t give a damn about how hard he is.

He adds a third finger and she comes undone. Her moans come out in breathless pants because she knows that she needs to be quiet but it’s just so difficult when his fingers fill her in ways her own can’t and the calloused feel of his thumb on her clit is enough to drive her crazy with desire. It’s so much better than anything she’d be able to do to herself. Her muscles relax and she falls back against the door, expelling the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as her body stops trembling.

He looks down at her in amazement, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, and she tugs at the grip on her wrists again, desperate to touch him now. Rooster finally lets them go and she rolls them to get movement back into them.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, and she shakes her head.

“Do not apologize for anything you just did,” she says sternly before dropping her hands to his belt.

Her nimble fingers have his buckle undone before he can blink, and she whips the belt from its loops, tossing it aside. She flips open his button and slides down the zip. Rooster sighs in relief from the strain of his erection against the denim of his pants. She chuckles as she slides her hand in and grips him, this time it’s him moaning as she surges up to kiss him and quieten him.

Much to his annoyance she removes her hand far too quickly for him to get any satisfaction. He groans unhappily, and she laughs into their kiss, pushing him back towards her bed. She slides her hands down the hard lines of his body into the back of his pants, pushing them down slightly as she grips the meat of his ass. When his legs hit that side of her bed, she pushes them the rest of the way down, and she follows them getting on her knees in front of him. Rooster moans at the sight, knowing what’s coming next.

One of her hands trace up his thigh until she reaches his stomach and she pushes him so he’s sitting on the edge of her bed and it’s easier for her to wrap her hand around his cock. She gives him a gentle tug, getting used to the weight of him. She adjusts her stance on her knees and before he can say anything to her, she licks a slow stripe up the underside of his cock. Rooster moans again, and Mac is smirking to herself as she wraps her lips around the head, her tongue swirling around him. He leans back on his hands, watching her as her hands wraps around the base of his cock and she continues working over the head.

A mean thought lingers through his head, a comment Hangman made after a drunken night out, and Rooster is far too tempted to try it. He tangles his hand in her hair, gripping at her skull, pulling slightly. He guides her gently, rather than the rough push Hangman would have given her if it had been him in this position. She pushes off, a line of spit connecting her lips to the head of his cock, and he groans at the lack of contact. If he had a chance to panic, he would. Instead, she breathes in deeply through her nose before taking him in her mouth again, her hand coming off and she’s guiding herself lower on his cock.

Her breath comes out in one slow puff as he feels her throat relax and her nose touch his stomach. A loud moan escapes him, and she swallows around him, extending it. His fingers tighten in her hair and she chances a glance up at him through her lashes. She can see, feel, that he’s holding back, and she bobs her head before pinching at the skin of his thigh. He hadn’t realized that his eyes were scrunched closed tight, that when he looks down at her, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sight before him. It’s heavenly and one he wishes he could take a picture of.

Then she’s pulling back again, pushing against the hand on her head.

“Come on Rooster, you don’t have to hold back with me.”

He groans at the thought but she’s back on his cock before he can think too much about it. She relaxes her jaw, her throat and pinches him again, her silent way of telling him to move. He pushes her off him, standing up. Before concern can blossom through her, he’s guiding her back towards him. He thrusts quickly into her mouth, and she chokes a moment before she adjusts and everything’s relaxed and open and Rooster can’t believe he’s fucking her throat. If he weren’t a gentleman he’d be inclined to boast about what was currently happening in the morning. Her fingers glide a gentle rhythm against his thighs, one completely juxtaposed to the speed at which his hips are snapping. He pulls her right up against him, her nose squished against the bone of his pelvis and he holds her there for a minute until her eyes start to water. He’s surprised that she doesn’t pinch his thigh and it just impresses him all the more. He feels himself edge towards the precipice of coming and he pulls her off him quickly, his hand pressing a tight grip to base of his cock as he lowers himself to the ground in front of her. He kisses her hard and fast, and it’s dizzying to go from a lack of oxygen to his tongue wrestling with her own.

“Fucking hell Mac,” he says, pressing their foreheads together, “that could have been the death of me.”

She smiles sheepishly, wiping a hand over her face to clear it of the tears and spit she felt. But he’s kissing her again before she can think too much about it. Rooster’s pushing her back against the floor and she’s laughing because there’s a bed right over there but they’re both impatient and they only have so much time before Phoenix comes back to claim her own bed on the other side of their twin room.

Rooster stays on his knees, and he pulls her panties off her finally before pulling her hips up onto him, but she rolls away.

“Uh uh, condom,” she says, shaking a finger at him before grabbing one from her bedside drawer. She throws it at him with a sweet smile.

“You keep condoms in your drawer? Who else do you sneak in here, Mac?” His voice is jovial but there’s a hint of jealousy tinging the edge of it.

She takes a deep breath, rolling herself back towards him.

“Safety first, Rooster. And no one. There’s two in my purse as well, just in case. But it’s a bit hard to want to fuck other people when there’s only one guy who has your attention,” she admits the last part softly.

Rooster glances up at her from where he’s rolling the condom on, and he smiles softly at her.

“It’s Bob isn’t it?” He jokes.

“Get the fuck out right now if you’re going to keep going down that path,” she laughs, and he’s back pulling her hips up over his thighs before thrusting into her.

She bites her lip, a weak attempt to hold back the moan itching at her throat. Instead, he rips it from her with a hard thrust, and it rings loud in both their ears. If anyone has come back to the barracks, she was going to hear about it in the morning. Rooster probably would too, since the entire bar had seen how they had left the bar earlier. He laughs, not feeling the same embarrassment that’s causing a pink blush to rise from her chest to her cheeks. But then he’s thrusting into her with a slow and steady rhythm until she babbling for more, her fingers grasping at the carpet.

He places her ankles up over his shoulders, changing the angle of his thrusts and she shoves her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out too loudly. He chuckles lowly, and fucks into her faster, his speed relentless against her. She bites down on the skin of her palm; he’s grunting with each thrust into her, and he feels a little bad that he won’t last all that long, but with the blow job she gave him before, could he really be blamed? He grips at her thigh with one hand and brings the other down to her clit, determined to make her come again before he does.

Her upper back is scratching deliciously across the carpet, as each thrust of his hips pushes her further away from him.

“Why you running away Mac?”

He pulls her close again, and she laughs. She’s breathing hard into the skin of her hand, it coming out in short puffs with each of his powerful strokes. He tilts her hips and manages to get just the right angle that she squeaks out a high-pitched moan. He can feel she’s close, her body tensing around him, and she’s dragging him with her. She comes with a cry, her body trembling but he can’t slow down as he chases his own release. Soon he’s following her over the edge of ecstasy. He has the foresight to let her legs down from his shoulders before he collapses on top of her. His elbows bracket her head, catching her hair as he brings hips lips to her’s in another kiss, this one sweet in comparison to the heated ones before.

She laughs happily, and it’s music to his ears.

“Bed,” she manages to choke out, her voice hoarse from earlier and fighting to bite back her moans. As he pulls out of her and gets rid of the condom, she stands on shaking legs and carries herself over to her bed. He goes to pass her the water bottle from her side table, and she gives him a sleepy smile, reaching out to grab it. Instead, he grabs her hand, turning it over so he can inspect her palm. There are teeth marks there and he rubs his thumb over it gently.

“You okay?”

“Better than,” she smiles, “lay down a moment?”

She doesn’t need to ask twice for him to put his underwear back on and climb onto her bed next to her.

“Won’t Phoenix be back soon?”

“Fuck Phoenix,” she mumbles, but she pulls a pair of clean underwear from her draw and her sleep shirt from under her pillow. She pushes him back onto the bed and lays down next to him, wrapping herself around him. His hand settles under her shirt, warm across her lower back.

They both fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

She wakes up before him, the smile still on her lips when she sees Rooster next to her. She can tell by the light of the room that it’s going to be morning soon. She rolls over, and he mumbles in his sleep, pulling her back against him. Phoenix’s bed is still made, their clothes are still strewn across the floor and despite how good it feels to wake up next to him, panic starts to seep in.

“Rooster,” she whispers in an attempt to wake him up, but his mumbles continue, so she slides his arm from around her, and slips out of her bed. How the two of them managed to sleep in a single bed together, was beyond her.

She throws on her work out clothes, a look at Phoenix’s clock telling her that it’s still too early in the morning for her flight uniform. She walks out into their common area, shoes in hand, ready to go for a run when she’s stopped by the sight of her roommate.

Phoenix looks up at her, a glint of mischief in her eyes, and Mac is relieved to see that she doesn’t look angry.

“Oh good, I can go get out of these now,” she said, gesturing down at the fact she’s wearing the same clothes she was in last night.

“Ah, not right now.”

“He’s still there?”

Mac nods, having the decency to look apologetic, but Phoenix grins at her.

“Tell me everything,” she demands, sinking back in the couch with her coffee mug in hand.

“I don’t know if you want to hear everything,” Mac counters, but they hear footsteps and Phoenix’s response is drowned out as Hangman walks into the room.

“She might not want to know, but I certainly do.”

#top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster smut #top gun fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x original female character #bradley bradshaw x ofc #my fic

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theloveoftoms · 2 years

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Loosing Control - maverick x reader (top gun)

Summary: After loosing control of your f-14, and feeling like you don't belong at top gun, your husband maverick is there to turn your night around!

This fic came from the request I received from @tinfoilhat2719. Their request had said, "Hi! Can I request a fic for maverick from top gun? So reader and maverick are married and the only person who knows is goose. Reader is a very good pilot who’s also participating in the top gun program and is the only female there. One day she almost loses control of the plane and things almost take a horrible turn. She takes it really badly and starts to doubt herself saying that she doesn’t belong there and doesn’t deserve to be part of the program, so maverick reassures her that she is a good pilot and that she deserves to be there just as much as the rest of them, something cute that shows how much he loves her."

A/N: HELLO everyone, I saw this request that I got this morning, and I had such a fun time writing it! Keep the requests coming, I love writing in response to a prompt, and I'll try and work at them soon! I ran (but mostly walked lol) 3k this morning and then made a salad for lunch and had tons of fun writing today! I'm getting back into the groove of things :) I couldn't think of a name for this at first so I was just going to call it 'husband.' I hope you have a great day/night/whatever time of day it is for you. And thank you so much for reading my stories, it means the world to me! xoxo - Mac :)

*also, the readers callsign in glacier, their rio is rogue, their plane is called bravo, and the instructor/bogey is callsign bandit. cheers!

Word Count: 3.5k

"I can't believe you're married mav," goose said, pinching his nose, "Out of all people, you! You're married!"

Maverick laughed, sliding his arm around your waist, "When you meet the one," he begun, pausing to look at you, "You just know."

You smiled, brushing a piece of maverick's brown hair behind his ear, gazing lovingly into his oceanic green eyes.

"When did you guys get married anyways? God, don't tell me you went to Vegas and got Elvis to do it?"

"No!" you exclaimed laughing, "It wasn't Elvis!"

Maverick smirked, "we went up to Los Angeles for the weekend and got married at city hall, it was short and sweet."

Your wedding was quick, the service lasting no longer than 20 minutes, maverick in his pristine white navy uniform, his jacket bearing his name, and as for you, you were in a silk maxi dress that you had bot at a boutique downtown with a pair of nude heels. A woman in a pant suit helped the two of you sign the papers, and even took your photo with the bouquet of pink tulips that maverick had surprised you with on the morning of.

Maverick and you had met many years ago, back at base camp where you both were learning how to fly f-14's for the first time. Maverick and you had met in the class room, the two of you working together on a project that helped show the instructor each of you we're ready to get into the cockpit. You fell in love with maverick's rebellious ways and flattery. The two of you would sneak out together after curfew and hit up all of the rest pubs in the area, drinking and dancing, and getting to know one another.

After graduating, the two of you got shipped off to different sides of the world. Maverick was working aboard an aircraft carrier in the Indian Ocean and you were off working at NAS north island, flying and performing work both on the ground and in the sky. Long distance was tough, but the two of you tried to keep in contact as best you could, but most of the time, both you and maverick were drawn away from the telephone with such busy schedules.

Only fate would allow you and maverick to reconnect a few years later at top gun. Now that the two of you were back together again and seeing each other on a regular basis, you decided maverick was it for you, he was the only person you ever wanted to be with. So, when one night, the two of you were out during the sunset, walking along the shore, and maverick asked, with an antique ring that used to belong to his mother, kneeling on the sand, telling you how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to have you back in his life again. "All I want in life is to be with you," he had said, "Will you marry me?" And of course you said yes.

Goose shook his head, patting maverick on the shoulder, "Congrats mav. And you too Glacier. You guys are both so cocky and bold I'm surprised mav didn't pop the question the second he saw you back here."

Maverick shook his head, rolling his eyes at goose.

"So is there going to be a party or anything? I better let Carole know, she's not going to believe it."

Silence cast over the room, "Goose," maverick said dryly, "You can't tell anyone about me and y/n just yet."

"Yeah," you said, taking over the conversation, "You know how the commanders felt about the two of us dating, could you imagine what they would say if they found out we were married?"

Goose nodded, "Alright. But man mav, you missed what could have been one hell of a bachelor party."

Maverick laughed, "I could only imagine!"

...

"Bravo is ready for takeoff," you said proudly through my headset to the tower, taking a quick glance back to my RIO, with callsign Rogue, who's given you the thumbs up.

"Permission to taxi Bravo," replied the man from the tower, his voice loud and scratchy on the radio, playing sternly through the ears of your helmet.

Under your command, your aircraft was beginning its trip to the runway, when out of the corner of your eye you noticed maverick ascending the steps into his aircraft, goose following from behind.

"Have a good flight Glacier," maverick said, giving you the thumbs up from his spot in his aircraft.

"Thanks Maverick," you said, the wheels of your aircraft just rolling onto the runway, "See you in the skies."

"God, you two are insufferable," Rogue has said to you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, "We try to be, Rogue."

With you in command, your plane began to jet forward, sending you swiftly into the air. The sudden acceleration made for in increase of g's, sending you flat back into your seat. You've been flying for abut five years now, and the gravitational-force of the plane taking off into the sky still sent you gasping for breath, although now, you knew how to handle it. You had built up an immunity to the g's, but that first one during each flight, drawing you straight back into your seat, still surprised you from time to time.

A rush of adrenaline was sent flying through your body as your plane made a rapid climb into the clouds, pulsing through into the clear skies ahead. You loved the way that flying made you feel, ever since you were a kid and you took your first ride in an airplane. You loved being able to look down on the world from your place high in the sky and soar above it all. It had been a tough journey to become a naval aviator, but it was all worth it when you could spend your days flying freely in the sky.

You were one of the few females on the base, but the only one enrolled in the top gun program. While other women worked as sailors, and instructors, and nurses, you were the only female top gun pilot. You had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously in your industry, and three times as hard to even receive an invitation to top gun.

The first day you drove on base, listening to uplifting rock songs on the radio, you felt that you were where you had always belonged. Finally, you could be up against other skilled pilots and you would also be improving your own flight tactics, strengthening your skills to become even better than you had been before.

You coasted the jet above the ocean, and with the help of Rogue's navigating, slowed your speed until the others met up with you over the hills along the sea.

Maverick and goose were performing a different exercise, so today it would be iceman and slider working with you and rogue to take down the bogey.

Iceman pulled up beside you and greeted you with a hand signal, a common one, signalling his readiness for the exercise.

"Lets work as a team and take this guy down," you said.

"Copy Bravo," he replied.

The two of you carried on ahead at a suitable speed, one fast enough to get out of dodge when the bogey would reveal himself, but slow enough to be able to look around for said competitor.

All of a sudden, the rush of a jet flew overhead, making your aircraft go unsteady, "Rogue," you called out, "Where's he headed?"

"Bogey is heading northeast at 480 knots, bring it up to 480 Glacier," Rogue said, clipping his breathing device on to better engage.

"Bringing her up. Iceman do you copy?"

"Affirmative Bravo. Taking the lead."

Fuck. There he goes again, trying to take over.

Men can be a nuisance sometimes, especially when they try to tell you that you're not good at what you do, or that you're un-suited for the role of a pilot strictly because you're a female. Iceman is a great guy, cocky as hell, but sometimes, I can tell that he would rather be in the lead instead of let a woman be in command.

"Copy ice," you replied, slightly defeated.

"Hey ice," rogue spoke up from the back, "Remember this is a joint mission. Both you and Glacier are in command. Work as a team."

A smile ran across your face as you quickly popped your mask off, "Thanks Rogue."

At the end of the day, its good to know your RIO has your back. At first, you were actually sort of nervous to be assigned a new RIO. You never know how the person flying with you will tolerate you or your flying techniques, but after some collaboration and understanding, Rogue and you turned out to make quite the team.

"Copy Rogue. En route to the bogey," iceman said clearly through the radio.

So, you let iceman take the lead, and you followed from behind, assisting the best you could.

"Increasing speed to 485, "Iceman said, realizing the bogey was increasing speed at a pace that was quicker than usual.

You followed suit, increasing your speed, keeping your eye on the instructors plane, keeping a safe distance between iceman, who has finally began to speed up and close in.

"What are you waiting for iceman?" You said over the radio, "Time is not our friend here."

"Cornering up," Iceman said, "I've got missile lock on him."

In front, you watched as Bandit took a steep dive towards the earth, the nose of his plane nearly vertical, avoiding the missile lock from your partner.

"Shit!" Iceman called out, rapidly changing the course of his flight pattern to chase after bandit.

"I've got you from the back ice, you are clear to close in," you spoke, catching your breath as your aircraft took a dive below.

"Too close for missiles, switching to guns," ice said, when all of a sudden, bandit made a straight climb at a gradual level, bringing his plane back up, higher than before.

"Fuck, not again!" Iceman said.

He had missed yet another shot. It was your turn to lead.

"Permission to lead iceman?" you asked, already preparing yourself to feel the rush of gravity sending you flat into your seat.

"Granted Bravo. Take the lead."

So, in an instant, you sent your jet flying vertical after bandit, how badly you wanted to catch up to him and be able to take the shot that would win you the exercise.

"Permission to increase speed if needed Glacier," Rogue said from the back seat, "he's going nearly vertical now."

Following the advice of your RIO, you increased the speed to 492 knots, which made you feel the power of your jet even more, the g's sending you back into your seat, your eyes struggling to keep open, your lungs struggling to breathe. But you needed to take a shot, so you used all concentration you had left and did your best to put missile lock on bandit.

Just as your eyes sloped shut, you saw the green box turn red, you had got missile lock on bandit, and then, as the sound in your ears started to ring and sound foreign, the colour running from your eyes, everything going spotty and white then black, you fell back into your seat, unaware of anything.

"Glacier!" Rogue called from the back seat, "GLACIER," he called agin loudly, "Shit, guys," he said into the microphone, "Glacier's out!"

Panic filled Rogue's voice and Iceman who was screaming your name through the radio, "Glacier is in trouble!" he said to bandit.

As you lay there, fully blacked out, your aircraft began to plummet towards the earth. Falling fast, the altitude decreasing rapidly without any pity.

"Glacier," Rogue called you again, "Altitude 9000, 8000. Wake up!"

"Do something bandit! They're going to crash!" Slider said over the radio.

"Ice, slider, stay back, I'm going to put missile lock on, we'll see if that can wake her up," bandit said over the radio, maneuvering his aircraft near yours, putting missile lock on your plane.

An earsplitting buzz filled the plane, and Rogue continued shouting your name, eager to wake you up. "Altitude 7000. 6000," he shouted, "5000, 4000!"

As he called out 3000, your eyes began to flit open, slowly and groggily. At first you couldn't hear a thing, but the screams of your RIO and the buzz of missile lock filled the air around you. Your eyes fully opened to see the ground approaching quicker than expected. "Holy Shit!"

Your plane was spilling out of control, it was up to you to regain it.

"She's re-engaging sir," Rogue called out.

Thinking quick, you fought the g's and brought your hands to the controls, pulling up into a flat flight pattern, gaining control of the aircraft. "Oh my god," you gasped, out of breath, scared shitless of what just happened.

"That's enough for today, let's head back to the base. All good to fly Bravo?" asked bandit.

You wiped the sweat on your forehead with the back of your palm, what the hell just happened?, "Affirmative bandit."

...

Once you had landed on the base, and parked your jet with precision, completing the uniformly straight row, you hopped out of our plane and scrambled down the flight of stairs quicker than you ever had before. You were upset, god how embarrassing was it to black out and nearly crash the jet.

"Lieutenant y/l/n!" Bandit called out, noticing you were already half way to the main building, "Wait up."

You waited for a couple seconds, nervously pacing back and forth, clutching your navy helmet in your hand, your face red and blotchy. "Sir," you greeted him "What is it?" you asked, when he finally caught up to you.

"I just wanted to say that wasn't your fault," he said stiffly, taking of his own helmet, "these things happen sometimes."

You nodded, god how you didn't want to be lectured by your instructor, not to mention the one who had been the most rigid about your flying and your personal choices involving maverick.

"Go take a shower and then just relax in your unit for a while. There is no need for you to finish the lesson today," the older man said firmly, "Take it easy."

Is he telling me to go home? God, no, I worked so hard to get here, I can't go back!

"Then we'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning."

Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, you shook your head laxly and replied with a very faint, very dry, "yes, sir."

On the walk back home, your thoughts filled your head with undesirable scenarios. Your a shit pilot. If you belonged here, you wouldn't have blacked out like that. the second you got to your apartment, a quaint condo just on the edge of the row of base housing that was overlooking the ocean, you threw off your flight suit, throwing your helmet to the floor and crawled into the shower, where you let the misty water run cooly over your head, filling your ears until all you could hear was the silence of the water, drowning out your unwanted thoughts.

You turned off the creaky faucet, and wrapped yourself in one of your white fluffy towels. Your hair was still very wet, and the water droplets trapped in your damp waves were slowly running down your back, trickling down your spine. You dried yourself the best you could with your bath towel, the fan on the ceiling in your bedroom helping you speed up the process, but making you chilled in the effort.

Still in a towel, you slumped down on your bed, staring endlessly on the ceiling, the same troubled thoughts filling your head like radio static. You were filled with regret and were left feeling like you didn't belong because of your mistake. how could I have been so stupid, you thought as you got dressed in a pair of black workout shirts and your top gun tee, which as soon as you had put it on, you wished you had grabbed something else.

why am I even here? its not like I deserve it after that mistake.

god all of the guys must think im an idiot. Rogue will probably never want to fly with me again.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. You didn't really want to see anyone right about now, but you thought you would at least go see who it was. You looked through the lookhole to find your husband, maverick standing there with a bouquet of tulips in his hand.

He knocked again, "I know you're in there y/n."

You collected your damp hair in your hand and brushed it behind your shoulder and then opened the door to find maverick there with a somber smile. "Hey," he said, "Can I come in?"

"Were married Pete," you said, "Of course you can come in."

He followed you into the kitchen and stood across from you as you relaxed into one of the two bar stools, setting his rose-tined flowers down on the counter. "I heard about what happened."

You looked away and didn't say anything, a common trait of yours was silence when you were upset, and not speaking for too long left you feeling numb.

"It can be scary when you loose sense of things up there," he said gently, taking your hand in his, caressing your thumb gently between his fingers. "Its happened to me before, and when I heard you black out on the radio, it was scary for me."

You looked at maverick sorrily, "mav. I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't want to think about such a bad pilot I am."

maverick signed, sitting down beside you, "Glacier," he begun, "Whatever you're thinking, whatever crap you're telling yourself, its not true."

You put your head in your hands, slumping over the counter, "Maybe I don't belong here?" you asked, "Maybe im not cut out to be at top gun. Maybe I should work a 9-5? be a secretary or something?"

Maverick shook his head, putting a hand on your back, rubbing in circular motions, "What do you say we go for a walk?" he asked, switching the path of the conversation.

You sat straighter, looking up at your husband, his green eyes, like stars in the night, gazing into yours lovingly. "Sure," you began, "But I'm going to need your jacket."

Maverick smirked, shrugging off his aviation jacket, one nearly identical to yours, but bigger and more comfortable. His bicep and pectoral muscles flexing in the act.

Maverick's jacket was warm and fresh up against your skin, and it had the pleasant woodsy sandalwood scent that belonged to your husband. It was a bit big on you, but that's what made it the most comfortable jacket you had access to.

You grabbed your aviators and keys and locked up, your hand intertwined with mavericks as you begun your walk.

You waked through the neighbourhood of houses, past the grocery outlet and the park until you reached the ocean. The sun was beginning its descent for the night, and the base was written in shades of tangerine and marigold.

"Want to sit down?" you asked maverick, "we could watch the sunset?"

Maverick looked around, down the beach to where Antonio's, the local bar was, "actually," he said, "I have something better in mind."

You followed maverick down the sand into Antonio's to find your classmates all standing around the main table which had some fries and other restaurant snacks on it. Each one of your classmates with a beer in their hands and a lax grin written across their faces, the same grin, each in a different font.

"Surprise!" they said, loud enough to excite you, but soft enough not to disturb the ambience of the bar.

You looked to maverick, who had a big grin written across his face.

"Maverick!" you said, "What is all of this?"

Goose stepped forward, "We all heard about what happened, and we thought that a recovery that quick from a blackout deserved a celebration!"

"And since I know that you mind tends to wander to the worst," maverick said, giving you a nudge with his elbow, "I suggested that the guys get something set up for you."

You pulled maverick into a hug, pressing your face against his, "thanks mav."

"You mean a lot to all of us," goose begun, "and your always there to help us out, both in the classroom and the air."

"You are a pretty great wingman," iceman said, "or would it be, wingwoman?" he laughed.

You rolled your eyes, "thanks guys." And you looked to your husband, who somehow had the time to set all of this up, "Thank you mav."

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