#Bradley bradshaw Whump

[ohtobeleah]

Dream A Little, Dream Of Me // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: How are you supposed to sleep when all you see when you close your eyes is your dead and soaking wet husband?

Warnings: Mentions of Insomnia. Insomniac!reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Death. Mentions of loss. Platonic Jake Seresin.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author Note: Day Two of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Insomnia. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Aviators can’t be lazy, the risks are just too great. The second they stop pushing themselves, the second they stop focusing, something terrible always happens. Something that you never see coming always happens and it shakes you to your very core. 

Like losing the love of your life. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” You could hear Jake murmur at you from across your bedroom. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest assessing the mess that was your bedroom. The bedroom up until three weeks prior you shared with your husband, Rooster. “Y/n?” Jake tried to grab your attention yet again but all you did was continue to look out the window—watching as the rain fell outside in the depth of the night. Illuminated by the solar lights that you and Rooster had hung for the fall season. Halloween pumpkins were strewn across the awning, in all honesty they’d probably stay there till after Christmas. You couldn’t find it in yourselves to take them down now. 

Bradley always did enjoy the days when it rained. When he was a kid he hated rainy days. But the more he grew up, moved into adulthood, excelled in his career and fell in love with you, he enjoyed the rain a little bit more and more. All because he got the day off to spend with you. His wife. The absolute love of his life. It had been your first rainy day without him. 

“That’s it, I’m taking you to see a doctor.” Jake sighed in defeat as he made his way across the room towards where you sat with your knees pulled up to your chest and your cheek resting on your knee. “Rooster wouldn’t want you to waste away at his expense.” 

You knew why Jake was doing this, why he was being overbearing and fiercely protective of your mental stability. He’d promised Bradley, your Bradley, that he’d take care of you. Whatever he had to do. It was a locker room promise—the type of promise you make when your almost certain someone isn’t coming back. 

“If anything happens to me, take care of my girl Hangman.” Jake could still hear Rooster's voice ringing in his mind like a bell that had been dinged in silence. “Don’t leave her hanging, look after her for me.” But Jake Seresin was only one man who could only do so much for a woman who didn’t want to be helped. 

And that locker room promise was made years before Rooster ever suspected a thing. 

“Hey, come on Y/n, look at me?” Jake begged as he sat down beside you. “Please?” When you crained your neck the other way to face where Jake sat, he sent you a soft smile that you barely recognised as his own. “You’re not taking care of yourself, and unfortunately for you that’s not an option you have.” 

“My husbands dead.” Your voice was rash, like you hadn’t spoken in days. You didn’t do an awful lot these days. “Every time I close my eyes I see him—“ Jake didn’t speak, all he did was listen as he reached out to draw you closer into his chest as he let his back rest against the headboard. “He’s dead and everytime I close my eyes I see nothing but him.” 

Jake couldn’t begin to imagine what you must have been going through, Rooster was his best friend, his wingman—and his heart hurt every damn day he wasn’t around. So to even begin to understand the magnitude of your grief was something Jake knew he’d never be able to understand. 

But then you told Jake the truth—the truth about why you wouldn’t sleep. Why you wouldn’t close your eyes and allow yourself a little reprieve. To see the man you missed so much and his blood ran cold. It felt like shards of ice were coursing through his veins and in that moment Jake didn’t know how to respond. 

“He keeps telling me that he’s cold.” Exhaustion laced your words as you let yourself rest in Jake's warm embrace. “That he’s so cold and can’t get warm.” Jake was there, he remembered the accident all too well. “Everytime I see him he’s soaking wet Jake and everytime I wake up I swear the floor where he was just standing is still damp.” 

It didn’t matter what time of day it was or if it was the middle of the night—if you let your eyes close for even a second, all you saw was him. Your husband, begging you to join him. 

“It’s just your grief Y/n.” Jake tried to console you the best he could. “Your mind is playing cruel tricks on you because of how tired you are.” You knew it was the truth. “You need to rest, you can’t avoid sleep for this long without being affected.” Jake held you close, he had every intention of making sure you were okay after Bradley's death. He’d promised to take care of you. “It’s not healthy, if not for yourself you gotta sleep for Rooster—he wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” 

“He keeps asking me to join him.” Jake's heart stopped inside his chest because as much as the fact you weren’t sleeping was a problem, that—that one sentence alone was cause for concern. “He begs me to, says that he needs me.” Your whimpers hummed against Jake's chest as he kissed the top of your head and inhaled the scent of your shampoo. 

God of all the people this had to happen to why on god's green earth did it have to be you? Why did it have to be you that lost the love of your life, and why was Jake now slowly losing his. 

“And the worst part is that I’m not strong enough to say I can’t.” 

“I think it’s time that you talk to someone, someone who can help you through this.” The first thing Jake was going to do once he’d gotten you to sleep was to call Phoenix for the name of the doctor she saw back in June. You needed to see someone. “But for now? I’m gonna stay right here, and you’re gonna close your eyes—because you need to sleep Y/n.” 

“I miss my husband.” Again you ignored the pleading tone in Jake's voice that seemed to be the only reason he spoke these days. “So much it hurts.” 

“I miss him too.” Jake cooed as he held you tight, held you close, held your head against his chest and cried with you. He let you curl into his side and tug at his shirt as you screamed and cried out your husband's name until you swore your throat was raw. “And he loved you so much—“ Jake gently stroked your hair as he felt you settling into him. “He loved everything there is to possibly love you about you.” 

There are times in everyone’s lives when love really does conquer all. Exhaustion, sleep deprivation, insomnia. Anything. And then there are those times when it seems like love brings nothing but pain.

“I don’t know how to do any of this without him.” Your words were a little less strained as you settled into Jake's warm embrace. “I don’t know how to live a life after him, Hangman.” 

“How about we try and take it day by day? Together, we’ll try to figure out a way to get through, together—because I promised Rooster that I’d take care of you and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Jake didn’t press when you didn’t answer, but he knew by the staggered length of your small barely noticeable whimpers that you were losing the battle against your will to stay awake. 

“You go to sleep, go see your husband and I will be right here when you wake up okay?” Jake cooed as he continued to stroke your hair behind your ear. “Tell him off for me, for getting distracted, for letting—“ Jake held his tongue, he was about to tell you, to tell Bradley, he shouldn’t have been so distracted up there. 

But then again, Rooster was the one who confronted Jake in the first place. It was Rooster who shoved him in the hallway of the carrier they were doing over water training on. Rooster was the one who accused Jake of being in love with his wife. 

And Jake was the one who’d told him that yes, yes he was. 

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

Jake woke with a gasp when he realised he’d fallen asleep with you in Bradley’s bed. He should have known better than to get himself into this situation, but he’d promised—he’d always promise Rooster that he’d take care of you if anything happened. 

He just never thought that day would come, and that it would technically be his fault too. 

But the more Jake came to he realised he was alone. Alone in your bedroom that up until three weeks ago you shared with your husband. 

“Y/n?” Jake frowned as he looked around and sat up. Surely you hadn’t gone too far, surely he hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour. “Y/n?” Again Jake frowned as he swung his legs over the edge of the side of the bed his best friend used to sleep on. 

When Jake's feet hit the carpet his entire body turned to stone as his bare feet felt the water that had seeped into the carpet. Cold, icy water that took the breath right out of his lungs. 

“I took her with me so you couldn’t ever have her.” Bradley’s voice made Jake jump almost into the stratosphere. He was standing right there at the edge of the bed with you asleep in his sopping wet arms. “You won’t ever get her, won’t ever know what it’s like to be loved by her—“ 

It was the shouting that filled the bedroom that woke Jake up, his own shouting as he wrapped you tighter in his arms before you had a chance to jolt awake out of his embrace. He’d fallen asleep—only for what felt like a few minutes. He hadn’t been sleeping well either, but now that he’d seen what you were experiencing? What had been keeping you awake, he understood. For all the wrong reasons. 

“You saw him too.” You mumbled against Jake as your eyes remained wide and awake, watching as the water pooled in the carpet beside your bed. 

“Didn’t you?” 

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

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

[cowboysandpilots]

The Beginning of the End : ̗̀➛ Hangster

(This one is for @jojobeaner because I posted it on TikTok, and they liked it, so I figured I should post it here, too. ❤️)

It starts with a seizure. That's how all great love stories start, right? They're fighting, which is pretty much all Jake and Bradley do at this point. This is what happens when you take something that was meant to be a friends-with-benefits situation and try to make it a real relationship after ten years. They can't seem to do anything but fight and fuck, which was great, when they weren't trying to be serious. Now, They're a serious couple who have to actually talk about their issues, and it turns out that they're bad at it. "You're not listening to a single thing I'm saying!" Bradley shouts. Neither of them is listening; they're only waiting for their turn to speak. Once again, Jake opens his mouth to speak, when he gets cut off by the choking noise that comes from the back of his boyfriend's throat. "Bradley?" He questions, taking a step closer to the older man. Frowning, Bradley tries to speak again, only making another choking noise before his neck twitches, jerking to the side. The choking noise doesn't stop, and Bradley's whole body goes rigid, eyelids fluttering. This snaps Jake right out of his anger. They could come back to this fight later. "Bradley?" He steps forward again just as the older man starts going down, but he isn't fast enough to catch him. Part of him, the part that isn't frozen in shock and fear, is thankful that they're on the beach, hoping that the sand has given him a soft landing. The other part of him is already pulling out his phone and dialling 9-1-1.

—— (Thanks for reading! ❤️ Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next part. Look HERE for all my links, and please consider donating to my food fund if you are feeling particularly generous 🥰)

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Whumptober begins in exactly 2 weeks! 😍

In case you missed it, @ohtobeleah and I will be collaborating to complete the 31 prompts for @ailesswhumptober's Whumptober event! Leah and I have been dividing up the list and I am VERY excited by the things we have each come up with so far! 💕 Leah's whumptober masterlist can be found here and mine will post closer to the start of whumptober.

I've currently staked my claim on 14 prompts. And at the moment, I plan on writing for:

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Tyler Owens

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Rhett Abbott

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

As well as new fics, I also plan on continuing series such as:

Drink With Me (Hangman x Reader; eventual Vampire!reader, vampire AU)

The Middle of Nowhere (dark!Rooster & dark!Hangman & Reader)

Dangerously in Love (Frank Castle x Reader)

If anyone wants to know any more about anything I'm working on, get a sneak peek at anything, wants to know what prompts I'm doing with which character, or just wants to talk, PLEASE feel free to send me an ask or comment on this post! I am so excited about my WIPs and I would love to talk about them! 🥰💕

[sarahsmi13s]

Last in the Flock

whumptober day 8: panic attack

pairing: bradley bradshaw x twin sister!reader

characters: bradley bradshaw, duckie bradshaw, carole bradshaw

warnings: panic attack, car accident, fear of being alone, mentions of death, canon deaths, cancer diagnosis, please tell me if i missed any

word count: ~1.6k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

this is also apart of my series duckie so the tag list for that is included! of course if you can't handle the content and you chose to not read, perfectly fine!!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: in the wake of carole's diagnosis, bradley gets into an accident, duckie's thoughts run wild and take over

You were in school when you got the call.

Bradley had gotten into an accident on his way to school. He didn’t have a first or second period so he didn’t come to school with you and just came fifteen minutes before his first class started.

Your mother had called you as you went to lunch, crying as she told you your brother was unconscious because he was in a car accident. Thankfully, it was a T-bone on the passenger side, but someone else hadn’t been paying attention and hit Bradley head on. But the doctors said that he should pull through and be just fine.

It didn’t stop the absolute dread that had been sitting on your stomach since you heard your mother sobbing. You went straight to the office with your mother on the phone to tell them that you were going by your remaining classes, collecting your work and leaving. 

The secretary didn’t even question it, seeing the very real tears on your face, and said she would send everyone a heads up.

You had taken your motorcycle to school that morning and you were nearly terrified to get on it. But you decided that you would drive home and get your car, not that you were a hundred percent safe in your car but it was better than being completely exposed on your bike.

You couldn’t risk it.

Later that day, after a check up, Bradley was cleared to go home. And he was ordered to rest the whole weekend and could take half the week off from school, but he was gonna be just fine.

You and Carole made sure he rested and doted on him the whole weekend.

And then the school week started, and you didn’t want to leave the house.

You justified it to your mom and yourself that it was because she needed her rest, Bradley’s insistence on that sentiment helped your side of the argument. She was insisting it was her job and you were insisting that she deserved to be taken care of as well.

But there was another feeling. A feeling you couldn’t quite place, but you knew you didn’t like it.

“Yeah, but hey you guys have fun though! I’ll be there next time. Thank you for understanding,” you smiled as you talked to your friend Ellie.

You had made plans to go out with her and a few of your other friends today after school but when they noticed you weren’t in first period, Ellie decided to call you during lunch.

“You can go out, you know, Duckie,” Bradley said from the couch. “I’m not dying, I can-”

“You could have died though! Do you know how close you were to dying and leaving me alone!?”

Bradley bruised eyes widened at your outburst. 

You were never the loud one. You weren’t the type to lash out. You were more like your dad in that way, not the type to yell unless it was needed. So to hear you shout out of the blue like that was concerning. 

“Duckie…”

You shook your head and stood up, “I’m gonna make lunch, sandwich okay?” Bradley just nodded and watched you rush into the kitchen.

When you got there you braced yourself on the sink with one hand as your other came up to your chest as it began to ache and your hand trembled violently. You couldn’t get air into your lungs, it stopped just before filling your lungs, and your legs seemed to stop working. A heat rushed up your body; your feet became too hot in your socks and a cold sweat ran down your back.

It was like you were frozen. The ringing in your ears did not help the nausea as your stomach churned. 

Your dad is dead. Your mom is dying. Your twin can die at any time. Then you would be all alone. Sad, lonely little Duckie… the last in the flock. Poor thing.

A sob forced its way out of your body, wracking your chest with force as your legs shook and you lowered yourself to the ground. 

Your hand on your chest tapped against your breast bone with no rhythm as you lost control of your thoughts and your breathing. You felt numb, like your nerve endings were on fire – the cool metal of the dishwasher had no effect on you.

“Duckie? Duckie, hey, what’s wrong?” 

Bradley had gotten off the couch and came over to you the moment he heard you sob.

He didn’t know what he thought he would see but it wasn’t his twin sister struggling to breath on the floor.

“Hey, Y/N! Y/N! Hey what’s-”

Bradley grabbed you by the shoulders, hoping to get your attention but all you did was sob and push him away. He hit the island with a pained grunt as he looked at you confused.

He realized that you were mumbling something to yourself through your sobs. 

“Alone… Alone… They’re all dead, I’m gonna be alone…” 

Then you were sucking in strangled breaths and sobbing them out, coughing hard as you gripped at your shirt. “It’s hot, too hot… Can’t breathe.. Can’t-” You cut yourself of with a sob.

Bradley sat there in shock, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go get your mom, she was out with Sarah Kazansky and he didn’t want to bother them. He couldn’t call Maverick because he wasn’t in the position to come help. But there was one number he could call.

Quickly he pulled out his phone, dialing the three digits. 

“9-1-1 what is your emergency?”

“I think my sister is having a panic attack.” 

“Okay, are you with her right now or can you hear her in the other room?” 

“I’m in front of her, we’re in the kitchen on the floor… I-I don’t know what to do, what do I do?” 

“What’s your name?”

“Bradley, my sister’s name is Y/N.”

“I’m Hannah, I’m gonna help you both through this okay? Just follow my instructions to the best of your abilities, can you do that?”

Bradley nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him, “Y-yes I-I can do that.” 

“Alright, what I want you to do first is put me on speaker okay?” 

He put her on speaker and sat his phone down, “Okay, I did it.”

Hannah proceeded to walk him through calming you down. 

First, Bradley had to let you know that he was there and that he was there to help. He calmly got your attention on him, hating that your eyes looked over his wounds rather than in his eyes. “Duckie, hey, look in my eyes, I’m here I’m right here.”

Then he had to distract you. He asked you to hold your arms up, touch his fingertips with yours above your head. This not only helped you to focus on something but it helped to expand your chest to allow more air in.

“Good job Duckie, you’re doing so good.”

Last he was to help you slow your breathing down. He tried counting down from ten, but that didn’t work so he then tried twenty but that didn’t work either.

“Hannah what do I do?”

“Ask her what she needs you to do.”

He nodded and found your eyes, “Hey, Y/N, tell me what you need.” He waited a beat before speaking again. “What do I need to do?”

“H-Heart… heart beat,” you said, patting your own chest.

Bradley nodded and gently took your hand, putting it to his chest.

“Can you feel that? I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re safe.”

He watched you nod and your breathing started to even out. “Good job Duckie, I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so good.” 

“Bradley, the paramedics are there. Can you let them in?”

“Yeah I can-” He moved to get up but your fist balled in his shirt and you shook your head, “No… please…”

“Hannah, tell them there is a key under the mat. I can’t leave her.” 

“I can do that.”

A few seconds later paramedics arrived in the kitchen as Bradley pulled you into his lap. He held you close and kissed the side of your head. “It’s okay, I got you. I got ya.” 

The medics checked your vitals and got you a little oxygen to help you breathe better.

“Okay, Y/N, you’re gonna be really drained the rest of the day, take it easy alright?”

You could only manage a nod and Bradley rubbed your back.

The medics and Bradley shared a nod as the medics left. 

He sat there with you until you were ready to get up. He didn’t speak other than gentle reassurances and praises.

“Bradley…”

You broke the silence about fifteen minutes later, your voice still shaky and a little raspy. 

He hummed, “What’s up Duckie? What happened?” You sniffled, “I think it was just Mom’s diagnosis… your accident… Dad… it was all just a lot. I was scared… Scared of being alone… being the last one…”

Bradley rubbed your arm, “Oh Duckie…” “I know I know it’s-” “It’s not stupid, your fear is valid. I hope it’s a comfort to know that I’m not leaving you with a fight,” he said, kissing your temple. “Nothing can take me away from my baby sister.”

You snorted, “You’re only twelve minutes older.” “Still older.” 

Rolling your eyes you sat up a little, “Can we go lay down? The floor is uncomfy.” He nodded and you both got up before going to lay down on the couch. “I love you, BradBrad.”

He chuckled and gently rubbed your side, “I love you too, Duckie.”

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hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

[missathlete31]

Just A Scratch- Part 1

A dramatic angsty Hannix prompt:

Warnings: Phoenix is put into an uncomfortable and unwanted position at the bar so please be wary if anything like that sounds triggering to you.

It all happens so quickly. One minute Phoenix is heading over to Penny to get a round of drinks at the bar and the next second she is being pushed up against the panel-sided wall by a drunk man who's hands find the swell of her ass like they have a homing beacon. Before she can even react he is there, in her space and getting closer, face showcasing a smugness in the way he leers confidently down at her. She's been hit on before of course, and usually reacts better, but something about it happening at the Hard Deck of all places, an establishment that has become like a second home for all the Daggers, puts Natasha in such shock that she can only stare back at the man unmoving.

"Well aren’t you a sight” the man speaks; his breath hot on her ear as he somehow seems to come even closer into her personal space. Natasha can’t contain her shiver, her unease palpable as her mind screams at her to push him off and get out of there and yet her body stays put. It’s not like she’s drunk; Phoenix was the last of the Daggers to arrive and hadn’t even managed to get a drink yet but somehow she is as frozen as a deer in headlights as this stranger gives her ass another squeeze with a grin.

Her lack of fight emboldens the drunken man. Perhaps he is mistaking it for her being interested although from the way he has her virtually trapped against the far wall of the bar, Natasha has a feeling he is the type of predator that enjoys making his prey feel ensnared. She raises a hand and tries to push back, finding enough of herself to recognize she needs out of this situation immediately, but the man bats her attempts at escape away with a chuckle. “If you want to get handsy baby, I suggest we go some place a little more private.”

“Let me go” it’s the first Natasha has spoken and she would be embarrassed by the lack of power in her voice if she wasn’t so freaked out by the whole situation. The man shakes his head with a condescending look, almost as though he finds the female aviator adorable. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya-“

“I said-“ her voice raises as she pushes against the man’s chest again to try and find a path to escape, “let me go.”

“But we are having so much fun” one more squeeze to her butt and then the man is moving to cradle her face, framing the stands of hair that fall over her face. Natasha opted to wear civilian clothes with her hair down today, a decision she regrets as the man in front of her continues to show her no respect. She knows this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if she was in uniform, remembering all the times she’s been called a frigid stick up the ass when she told men no in her khakis. Channeling that power, that strength that she possess when she wears her Lieutenant bars and soon to be Lieutenant Commander if Maverick is right about the ceremony at the end of the month, Natasha gives another push, harder to the point the man actually stumbles a step. He isn’t deterred, merely smiling as he shifts a lock of her hair behind her ear and dares to kiss the spot of skin he removed it from. “Beautiful and a little feisty, my favorite combination-“

“Then you’ll love me” a voice announces and it would be comical how fast the drunk man’s head snaps up at the sound if the whole circumstances wasn’t so scary. Phoenix turns as well, finally feeling a moment of calm as she notices Hangman of all people have come over, his eyes assessing the situation quickly and picking up on her unease. He’s wearing his khakis’ as usual, one of the few Daggers to still dress in regulation despite being on their mandated month of leave. The military Ken doll look works on him though, usually combined with his infuriating smirk and winking sea green eyes. That’s not who stands in front of Phoenix right now though, the flirty and playful Jake gone, replaced with the stone cold killer that Nat only sees on missions.  Tonight, Hangman looks livid, lips thin and eyes narrowed as he stares at the man holding Natasha hostage with a glare that would make smarter men run for the hills. The drunk doesn’t seem fazed though, or perhaps he has a death wish, because instead of backing off the man just scoffs Seresin’s way, “Find your own bitch” he warns, sparing Jake no more as he pushes back into Natasha’s body, a bulge in his pants hitting her hip and making this state of affairs a hell of a lot more real.

The pressure only last a second before the drunken man is ripped away from Phoenix and sent careening to the ground the other way. Before the female aviator can even process what is happening, Jake is in front of her, the expression on his face concerned though his eyes still look murderous. “Are you alright?” he asks immediately, his gaze scanning her for injuries while his hands hover without touching. Natasha knows she owes Jake some kind of thank you for saving her but something about Hangman being the one to see her so vulnerable and scared makes Phoenix raise her defenses, the defenses she should have had up from the beginning so she could have fought off the strange man herself. With embarrassment crippling her, she tries to roll her eyes, "I didn't need your help" she comments quickly, hurrying to hide the fluster off her face from the speed of the assault she just endured.

Jake barely blinks at her attitude, eyes still staring, still assessing, "But are you o-“ he’s cut off when suddenly a bottle breaks over his head, sending Hangman stumbling down to one knee from the force of the blow as glass rains all around them. Nat looks up to see her predator coming back, the other half of the broken bottle in his shaking hands, “you’re mine” he states, anger now in his tone from this delay in his conquest. He moves to take another step, but Hangman is up to the task, lunging up and tackling the man away from Phoenix once more.

The altercation has gained the whole bars attention at this point. The music of the piano cut away as everything descends into chaos. Natasha can see Jake land a punch before he is flipped over and lost in the movement of bodies converging on the two fighting men.

Phoenix is yanked immediately away from the wall and the fighting by Payback, who as the tallest of the group is able to spot her quickly as the other Daggers join the fight to back up Seresin. He deposits her over to Halo and Bob, a move that normally would anger Natasha for being ‘handled’ but she is still so shocked by the turn of events that she allows her friends to all but cocoon her in their safety. Pulled over to the side and out of the scuffle, Phoenix is able to watch as the men of her squadron rip the drunken man away from their teammate and throw him towards a corner booth. The man is bleeding from his nose and a split lip, and yet still he tries to fight his way away. Luckily the Daggers seem too formidable for him to overcome and they manage to box him in to the cushion, an image so similar to what the man did to her that Phoenix has to look away. She hears vaguely as Penny yells the police are on their way but Natasha’s attention soon becomes fixated on her savior. Jake is getting clear of the melee, Javy helping him over to a barstool, as blood covers the left side of his head and continues to trickle. Before she even thinks about it, Nat is moving, startling Bob and Callie with how quickly she is heading towards the bar top.

Just as she arrives Rooster is coming over too, handing Jake a towel to hold pressure as Javy runs to get ice. She watches Jake wince the minute the fabric hits his cut, the white of the cotton turning red quickly like it’s already done Seresin’s hair and skin. Natasha isn’t squeamish but the image is more than off-putting especially because it is her fault that the man is hurt anyway. Jake rubs his other hand along his jaw, showcasing the beginning of a bruise no doubt from a punch in the brawl.

Beside the injured aviator, Rooster lets out a long breath, “Penny is asking for an ambulance, just sit tight man-“

“Not needed” Jake moves to shake his head, and then as though thinking better of it, refrains. “I’m fine” though the way he teeters even while seated negates his entire argument. Bradshaw opens his mouth to argue but Nat beats him to it.

“Jake-“ Phoenix manages, because calling him Bagman right now feels wrong, “Oh god Jake-“ before she can say more, both men turn to look at her, wearing identical looks of concerns.

“Nat you alright?” Bradley asks at the same moment that Jake tries to stand and ask the same thing. Rooster pushes him back towards the barstool with barely any pressure, before turning to the female pilot again, “did he hurt you?” the mustached man asks.

“No, I’m fine. But, Jake he- God, I’m so sorry-“

“None of this is your fault Phoenix” Hangman answers, earning a look of approval from Bradley for not allowing Natasha to even try to feel any guilt for the night’s events.

“But- but your head-“

“A cheap shot, it’s nothing” though they can all see the wince when Jake tries to move the towel off. Bradley stands closer, looking over the top of Jake’s head, and giving a long whistle, “I think you’re going to need stitches Seresin” he shares gravely.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now” Bradley points out, emphasizing the now bloody collar of Jake’s khaki’s. It’s said with exasperation and concern, both Bradshaw and Seresin embracing the new level of friendship they had managed to reach after the success of the mission.

“Head wounds bleed a lot” the blonde reasons dismissively, “I’m good.”

“Yeah too good to be true right?”

Before Jake can reply to Bradshaw with his normal quips, Penny arrives, motherly concern on full display as she shuffles Jake towards the office where she keeps her first aid kit. Javy follows the pair, the four shots the man already had during the night making him more of a hindrance than a help, but still they manage. With Hangman gone, Natasha feels cold, not liking the man being out of her sight especially with him being so hurt because of her. As though he can read her mind, Bradley moves closer to Phoenix’s side, not touching her but providing comfort by making sure to block her from the view of her assaulter and the view of Jake’s blood on the floor.

Bob arrives with a glass of water, kind enough not to comment when Natasha’s hands shake when she grips it. Her WSO knows her better at this point than to ask her if she is okay, instead offering her a kind voice, “do you need anything?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “I’m good” she manages, naturally thinking of Jake with that choice of words and cursing herself when her lip wobbles with emotions. Bob, sensing all, places a gentle hand on her forearm “the minute he saw that man get in your space he was off” the bespectacled man supplies.

“What?”

“Hangman, I don’t think I ever seen him so worried. He didn’t even wait for Rooster or Coyote, he just barged on over to get to you.”

“Well you know how he likes to play savior” she murmurs though she hates herself for even saying those words out loud.

Bob eyes her for a moment, reading her mind like he always seems able to do, before shaking his head. “You know better than that” he speaks sadly, disappointment evident. “When I first met you all I thought you both were-“ he stops, pausing to follow Nat’s eyes that can’t seem to help but follow to the back room that Jake has left to go to. “You should talk to him. He- He’s not quite what I thought” Bob decides to share, squeezing his pilot’s arm one last time before giving her a moment.

Phoenix lets out a shaky breath. Its information she can’t process right now, not with the smells of the drunken man’s cologne and Hangman’s blood still under her nose. She wishes she could dismiss Bob’s observation as being misinterpreted but Natasha knows it’s not fair to Bob or Jake. In truth, she’s known Jake Seresin for a decade and though the man has been a thorn in her side, he’s also always been an ally. He’s pushed her harder than any other pilot or teacher ever has, and never looked down on her for being a woman like some of the other men has. In all honesty, if the turf war between him and Bradshaw hadn’t forced Natasha to pick a side, Phoenix knows Jake would be one of her closest friends, maybe even more at this point. They always had a good relationship, a give and take that kept things interesting and fun. She also isn’t blind; able to admit that Jake looks as good as he claims. Could it be that Jake feels the same way? Bob seems to imply as much, and the man’s deductions have been nothing but right since the day she met her WSO in the bar before the mission.

Natasha’s eyes turn back to the office door at the end of the hallway. The door is still closed and Nat knows that somewhere inside Jake is probably still bleeding because of her; hurting because of her. She wants to get to him, to thank him, to apologize, to hold his hand every time he wants to wince from the pain she has caused him. In the span of a few minutes Phoenix realizes that she cares for Jake Seresin, in ways that disguised itself as friendship and camaraderie but feels so much more now. She takes a few steps forward, ready to throw caution to the wind and just be there for the man, when the door flies open and a frantic Coyote runs out. His hands are red with Jake’s blood and the fear in his eyes are enough to almost stop Nat’s heart right there. “SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE” he screams, shocking the room silent, “NOW!”

And then everything descends back into chaos.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Nevermore

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 11. Fainting, 19. Left Behind, 23. Forced to Watch, 28. Oxygen Deprivation Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader Summary: When there is a malfunction during training, Rooster is forced to watch as his world comes crashing down. Word Count: 1153 TW: Character Death, Oxygen Deprivation, Passing Out, Panic Notes: Thank you to @topguncortez for looking this over for me! 💕 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Bradley groaned as he sunk down deeper into the rec room couch. He absolutely hated these training days. Most of the time he was stuck in this tiny room for hours just waiting for his turn to get into his plane and then he would maybe get an hour up in the sky—if he was lucky. And there was very little to pass the time in here besides one uneven foosball table, a handful of magazines from the mid-2000’s, and a radio connected to the planes currently in the air. 

It wasn’t so bad depending on who he was waiting with. But since they had downsized the Dagger squad, he was currently alone with Hangman as his only company. While the two of them had cleared the air and moved past most of their past grievances, it was still awkward hanging out one-on-one like this so they usually just kept to themselves. If only Bradley had been able to switch places with Coyote today. Then he and Hangman could have kept each other occupied while Bradley could have spent this waiting time with you.

It had been bittersweet when Phoenix was promoted out of the Dagger Squad. She more than deserved it but everyone knew the squad just wouldn’t be the same without her. However, Bradley had been overjoyed when he learned you were selected as her replacement to fly with Bob. 

He had first met you a few years ago when you were both stationed at the same base. It was instantly clear there was a connection between you and things had gotten pretty serious pretty quickly. However, when you found out you were being transferred a few months later, the two of you mutually agreed long distance wasn’t for you and you parted on great terms. But ever since you joined the Dagger Squad, it was as if no time had passed and you both had picked things up where you had left off. 

Neither one of you wanted to put much pressure on the relationship by talking about the future, but Bradley already knew that now that he had you back in his life, he never wanted to let you go again. He just hoped you felt the same way. 

Ten minutes later, Bradley had just begun to doze off, lulled to sleep by the constant chatter over the radio, when suddenly Bob’s tone shifted, his words sharp with an edge of concern and nervousness. “Hey, Raven, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Somethin’s wrong…”

Bradley bolted upright on the couch at the labored sound of your voice. Jumping to his feet, he tore across the room and snatched the radio receiver before anyone else could. It was highly frowned upon for those waiting in the rec room to use the radio, but Bradley didn’t give it a second thought as he called out to you, “Rae? Raven, what’s happening?”

“Roo...Oxygen’s not working…Ca-can’t breathe… 

No. That can’t be right. The oxygen systems are always inspected before every flight to ensure something like this doesn’t happen. You had been given the all-clear this morning along with everyone else. Yet as he continued to listen to the radio, it was abundantly clear that you were struggling for every breath.

“Lt. Floyd.” Oh shit. Cyclone was monitoring training today. “Is your oxygen compromised?”

“N-no, sir. It’s just Raven’s.”

This was both good and bad news. On one hand, at least Bob wasn’t also being affected and he would be able to stay alert and focused on the situation. But on the other hand, if something happened to you, there was little he could do to help. He didn’t have any steering or altitude controls in the back seat and all emergency overrides were out of his reach. 

Grabbing the radio, Bradley carried it over to the window so he could try and see what was happening. Luckily, there were a few clouds covering the worst of the sun’s glare and he could just make out the planes far off in the distance. Two were circling at a normal altitude, but the third seemed to be steadily climbing.

Cyclone must have noticed this too because his voice crackled out of the radio, “Lt., drop altitude to below 10,000 feet immediately and return to base…..Raven? Do you copy?”

“....can’t….breathe….”

“Why is she still going higher?” Hangman murmured as he approached the window to stand next to Bradley.  

It seemed counterintuitive but Bradley thought he understood what was happening. Right now you wouldn’t be thinking logically about how to fix the problem, you’d just be straining to get air into your lungs. He could almost see you with your arched back, wide eyes, heaving chest….and fist clenched tightly around the stick as you unwittingly climbed higher and higher.

But then your plane seemed to level out for just a moment—before it began to plummet towards the ground.

Hangman inhaled sharply, “Oh my God…”

“Raven! Raven, wake up!” Bob’s voice was frantic as he cried out, “We’re going in! She’s unconscious and there’s no one on the stick!”

“No, no, no, no!” Bradley screamed, his fist slamming into the window over and over. This can’t be happening. This can’t be…

“Altitude dropping rapidly! Raven, please! Wake up! What do I do?”

“Lt. Floyd…eject.”

“What?” Bob sounded horrified at Cyclone’s command. “No. I can’t. I have to do something! I have to help her! Just tell me what to do!”

“There’s nothing you can do but save yourself. Now eject. That’s an order.”

“But–”

Hangman snatched the radio receiver out of Bradly’s hands and yelled, “Bob, you have to punch out right now! Your chute won’t save you if you go much lower.”

“I can’t…I can’t leave her.”

Hangman turned to Bradley, his face a mix of pain and sorrow as he held out the receiver. They both knew what needed to be done.

Squeezing his eyes tight to keep his tears from falling, Bradley grabbed the receiver and whispered, “Do it, Bob. She’d want you to.”

There was a momentary pause. Then, “I’m sorry.”

A loud bang blasted through the radio as the canopy was torn open and Bob’s seat jettisoned from the plane. Bradley looked out the window, his eyes scanning the sky until he just barely made out the tiny plume of color that had appeared as Bob’s cute deployed. It would be a rough landing, but he had ejected just high enough that he should be alright.

The same couldn’t be said about you. 

Bradley sank to the floor as your plane spiraled closer and closer to the ground, bile rising in his throat at the knowledge there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to save you now. All he could do was watch it happen.

Then, just before your plane slammed into the ground in a fiery explosion, he heard one final word whispered through the radio.

“...R-Rooster?” 

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[letthewhumpbegin]

Obsession - Top Gun: Maverick

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick Characters: Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell Prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion Word count: 2756 Warnings: mentions of collapse / fainting, exhaustion.

A/N: this story is already posted on my FF.net and AO3 account, but now posted onto here as well.

Their new mission was a tough one, maybe even tougher than the bombing of the uranium enrichment facility.

It included an extremely difficult route to fly, full of circumstances and obstacles to keep in mind, such as enemy bases, air defence missiles, tree tops and other structures that could be flown into. Combined with the low altitude and higher than normal speed they would need, it turned out to be a near impossible mission to master.

Maverick and the team of younger fighter pilots were training for nearly three weeks now, and, so far, no one had yet been able to fly the required route without 'crashing' their jet. Not even Maverick himself.

Hangman found it all extremely frustrating. Even though they had five months to train, considerably longer than their last mission together, it nagged at him that no one had been able to fly it yet. Most of all, that he hadn't been able to fly it yet. Never before had Hangman been this affected by a mission. It kept him up at night, stressed him out during the day, and eventually led to him pulling all-nighters to cram as many mission-details into his head as he possibly could.

Tonight, he once again sat in Top Gun's communal kitchen well past midnight. All the aviators stayed in dorm-like rooms at the academy, with this living room-like kitchen being a sort of common room for them.

Hangman had chosen to sit here so as not to wake up his roommate during this stay. He was roomed up with Rooster, something, he suspected, Maverick had done on purpose to have the two of them get on better terms a bit. Their previous mission had definitely laid a base of acceptance and respect between the two of them as aviators, but this stay as roommates together made that Hangman had to admit he actually started to appreciate Rooster as a person.

Hangman sat at the large dining table in the kitchen. Maps, charts, mission specifics and jet manuals all lay strewn across the table and on the floor surrounding his chair. Even though he had trouble keeping his exhausted mind focused, he willed himself to keep reading everything there was, and try and remember every twist, turn and obstacle of the route they would need to fly. For three nights in a row he had gone by on a maximum of an hour and a half of sleep, and if it was up to him, he wasn't going to get much more tonight. Even if he slept, it was an uneasy slumber that didn't do much to get him any sort of rest. The symptoms of his fatigue already showed, but he refused to give into them.

His flying had been absolutely abysmal today. Deep down Hangman knew that was undoubtedly caused by his extreme lack of sleep, but he didn't admit to that. He was Hangman after all: he was good, very good, and wasn't brought down by something as trivial as lack of sleep. Still, there had been a very close call today, in which he nearly crashed his F18 into a hillside for real. Something like that had never happened to him before, and his weakened reflexes must have played a large part in that.

Now that he sat here, for the fourth night in a row hard on his way to pull an all-nighter, Hangman felt himself start to spin out of control. A distinct tremble had started in his hands, and he couldn't get it to stop. He was sweating, even though it was quite cool here in the kitchen, and whenever he moved his head, the room swam around him. Hangman was faintly aware he was crossing every line he had, but was so obsessed with making this mission work, that he didn't even care. He would sleep or rest when he mastered this mission, but until that time he allowed himself nothing.

"What are you doing?" Hangman was startled by Rooster suddenly standing behind him. He hadn't heard his fellow-aviator come in at all. "Studying," Hangman answered curtly. Rooster frowned at all the paperwork strewn across the kitchen. "Why?" Hangman ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I need to make this mission work. I have to be able to fly it."

Rooster mulled that over for a second, as something started to dawn on him. "How long has this been going on?" He asked suspiciously. "Come to think of it: I woke up yesterday in the middle of the night, and you weren't in our room. I figured you might have gone to the bathroom, and I fell asleep again quickly. But now I'm starting to think you were 'studying' as well." "I was." Hangman admitted instantly. "Fourth night in a row, and I still can't do it." He growled in frustration, slamming his fists into the tabletop.

Rooster raised an eyebrow in surprise, sitting himself down on a chair on the opposite side of the table. "Aren't you a bit harsh on yourself? I mean, even Mav hasn't flown this thing yet." Hangman vigorously shook his head, looking slightly deranged as he did so. "Then I'll be the one to do it." Rooster took a deep, slow breath. He could see the situation exactly for what it was: this mission had become an obsession for Hangman, and definitely not in a good way.

"Okay, you've got to stop this," Rooster intervened. "This isn't healthy anymore." "No, I've got to finish this," Hangman snapped. He looked absolutely disheveled now and on the edge of a nervous breakdown. "And I'm fine, by the way." Rooster scoffed, but spoke calmly. "Yeah, well, try telling me that without your hands shaking." "Rooster," Hangman growled, "you really need to…"

Hangman fell silent mid-sentence. Suddenly the room spun around him. Cold sweats broke out all over his body, and there was the distinct feeling of losing control over himself. He got to his feet as a feeling of panic spread through him, but that probably was the dumbest move he could have made. Immediately, the room spun even more and his vision darkened. And before he knew it, he slumped to the floor and blacked out completely.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Rooster muttered urgently. There was not much he could do to prevent Hangman from going crashing to the floor. He couldn't say he was surprised to see this happen, though. Hangman had worked himself into exhaustion in his obsession over this mission, and now paid the price for it.

Rooster ran around the table, dropping to his knees beside Hangman. They had their differences, sure, but in this case of emergency, Rooster didn't hesitate to offer his help. He immediately pressed his fingers to Hangman's neck to feel for a heartbeat, and was relieved to feel the rhythmic thumping of the vein.

Rooster knew he needed some assistance, but with everyone sleeping that wasn't the easiest thing to arrange at the moment. "Help!" He called out at the top of his lungs. "Need some help over here!" Rooster wasn't keen on leaving Hangman alone right now, especially with his fellow-aviator still out cold, so he just wished someone would be woken up by his cries for help.

Rooster turned his attention back to Hangman. He lightly tapped Hangman's cheek in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness, but was not able to rouse him. As his basic medical training had taught him, Rooster carefully turned Hangman onto his side, closely monitoring his condition until he would wake up again or until help would arrive.

The sound of barefoot, running footsteps coming down the corridor that led to the communal kitchen announced someone had heard Rooster's cries for help. A few seconds later, Maverick came to a skidding stop in the doorway.

"What happened?" Maverick looked horror-struck from the papers strewn everywhere, to the clearly unconscious Hangman lying on the floor and Rooster kneeling next to him. "Did you guys fight?" "No," Rooster answered quickly, "he passed out, because he's barely slept for four days. This mission has become an obsession for him, Mav."

Maverick blew out a deep breath. He had noticed something was off with Hangman, especially today, but hadn't been able to lay a finger on it. And now he knew… "That near crash today was probably no innocent mistake either?" Maverick frowned. Rooster shook his head. "I don't think so. Fatigue must have compromised his concentration and reflexes. He shouldn't have been flying today." "That's a conversation I will have with him some other time." The concern was evident in Maverick's voice. "Let's get him off the floor first."

Almost as if he had heard those words, Hangman groaned softly and stirred. It took a few seconds for him to open his eyes, but finally he looked ahead, still dazed. "What happened?" He mumbled weakly, "why am I on the floor?" Rooster scoffed. "Because you're an idiot, and decided to work yourself into exhaustion." Maverick held up a hand to silence Rooster, quietly signalling this was not the time nor the place for a reprimand.

Hangman sluggishly blinked a few times, before he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. "Slowly, take it easy." Maverick was ready to catch Hangman in case he would go down again. "I'm okay," Hangman mumbled, passing a hand over his face. "Bit dizzy, still, though." 'We can call one of the doctors in, if you want to?" Rooster suggested. "No, it's alright," Hangman answered softly, "if you guys would be so kind as to help me back to bed. I think I just need to sleep this off." "I'll agree to that for now," Maverick agreed somewhat reluctantly, "because it's the middle of the night, and you do need rest, but tomorrow you're seeing a doctor, just to be sure. And that is happening whether you like it or not." Hangman nodded, accepting defeat. "Okay."

Maverick and Rooster helped Hangman to his feet. He needed a lot of support, but leaning on both his fellow aviators, Hangman finally managed to stand. "You good?' Maverick asked, worried. Hangman looked anything but steady on his feet, and it wouldn't be surprising if he collapsed again at any given moment. "I can make it," Hangman answered through clenched jaws. He wasn't quite sure if he indeed would be able to make it back to his and Rooster's room, but he was way too damn proud to be carried back there. Rooster could see right through him, but didn't mention it. "At your tempo."

Hangman took a tentative step forward. He knew he had done all of this to himself, but he didn't quite trust the strength of his own legs. To his relief, he found that he could walk, albeit slowly and somewhat unsteadily.

Getting back to their bedroom took a while. Hangman needed to stop a few times along the way and seemed in constant danger of collapsing again. He had to admit he was completely spent by the time they had reached the bedroom. Just this short walk had drained him of the little strength and energy he had left.

Maverick and Rooster helped Hangman lie down on the bed. He didn't even bother to change his clothes, that was how tired he felt. Hangman pulled the sheets up to his chin and rolled himself onto his side, facing the wall next to his bed, and back turned to Rooster and Maverick. The consequences of what he had done suddenly weighed down hard on him. He felt so ashamed that he had let himself get this obsessed with their mission, and had allowed himself to spiral completely out of control. He now sure paid a price for it, because he felt like utter shit. Both mentally and physically he had exhausted himself.

Hangman heard Maverick and Rooster converse behind him in hushed voices. He couldn't quite make out what was being said, but about a minute later he heard footsteps, a door open and close, and then silence. Hangman instinctively knew he was now alone with Rooster once again.

"Thanks for checking in on me," Hangman mumbled just loud enough for Rooster to hear. He was well aware that if Rooster hadn't decided to come look for him tonight, things might have been a lot worse. And if things hadn't turned out the way they had tonight, he sure would have stepped into his F18 tomorrow, and quite possibly crashed and killed himself for real.

After a short moment of silence, Rooster answered. "Anytime. Just promise me never to do anything like that ever again." "I sure won't," Hangman agreed without hesitation. He closed his eyes and felt his body grow heavy. It took only a minute before Hangman had fallen into a deep sleep.

---

Hangman slowly awoke. He didn't move and remained lying with his eyes closed. His bed was still way too comfortable, and he could still feel the fatigue in his bones, so he wasn't really planning on getting up anytime soon. The rustling sound of a page being turned made Hangman realise that he wasn't alone in the room. He slowly opened his eyes now to look over his shoulder, and found Rooster sitting on the other bed.

"Welcome back." Rooster spoke without looking up from the file he was reading. Hangman slowly rolled himself onto his back, sleepily rubbing his eyes. "How long was I asleep?" Rooster checked his watch. "About 20 hours." "Come again?" Hangman was astounded to hear that number. He had expected it to be a few hours, not almost an entire day. "You even slept through the doctor examining you this afternoon," Rooster commented airily, still not looking up from the page he was reading. "He thinks you'll be fine, by the way. Nothing a few days of absolute rest won't cure." Hangman nodded slowly. "And you have been sitting here all day?" "We took turns," Rooster answered, finally meeting Hangman's eye. "But since I sleep here, too, I got the night shift." "So someone has been sitting here all day to watch me sleep?" Hangman frowned. Rooster gave him a stern look in return. "You collapsed, remember?" "Actually, I don't remember much of it." Hangman slowly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. "The last few days are a bit of a blur, to be honest." "I wonder how that came to be," Rooster replied sarcastically. "I know I did this all to myself," Hangman slowly shook his head, "and trust me when I say I feel guilty as hell about it."

A short while of silence was finally broken by Rooster. "You scared the shit out of me, you know that? I honestly thought you were a goner there for a moment." Hangman chuckled wryly. "You? Concerned for me?" "Yes." Rooster snapped back, maybe a little harsher than he meant to. "So what?" "I– I'm sorry…" Hangman stammered. He realised that his airy response did not go down well with Rooster, and he couldn't quite blame him for it.

Rooster threw the file he was reading on the floor beside his bed. "No, I'm sorry," he admitted with a hefty sigh, "I know we're not necessarily what you would call friends, but seeing you go down like that… it had an impact on me." Hangman knew this was a lot coming from Rooster, which made him appreciate it even more. "Thank you, that actually means a lot." Rooster shifted a little uncomfortably on his bed. "And I'm glad you're okay." "Well," Hangman chuckled, "I assume Maverick will still want that talk with me tomorrow. So after I survive that, then I'll really be okay." "Yeah, good luck with that." Rooster commented sarcastically, "he sounded ready to skin you alive." "As he should." Hangman lay back down. "I deserve every second of that, but first I'm going to have a whole night of sleep, cause I'm still tired as hell." Rooster nodded in agreement. "If you need anything, I'm here." "Thanks, buddy." Hangman already had his eyes closed.

Rooster watched his fellow-aviator silently drift off to sleep again, and felt the stress and worry of the day finally start to lessen. Yesterday's events had scared him shitless, but he was glad to see Hangman was on the mend again. Rooster lay down as well, casting one final glance at Hangman already fast asleep, before switching off the lights in their room. "Sleep tight."

[topgun-imagines]

Day 8: Pick Your Family

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Synopsis: Who knew that a text about Thanksgiving dinner could lead to the end of Bradley and Jake’s relationship?

Note: is it short? Yes. Am I very proud of it? No. But here you go.

Warnings: Religion, same sex relationship, homophobia, break-ups, brief mentions of abuse, family trauma & arguments.

Word count: 1.3k

Thanksgiving was never a fun holiday in the Seresin household. The day was always stressful for everyone involved. Jake’s grandmother would take on the responsibility of making all the food, his mother would try to entertain the younger Seresin siblings while his father remained locked in his office as if it were any other day. At the end of the day, everyone would gather around the large oak table to eat the delicious homemade meal. Dinner was usually eaten in silence, however, there were more than a few times when that table became the place to air your dirty laundry. Those times always made Jake look forward to leaving that house. This year was no exception

However, there was one small thing that had changed this year. Jake was no longer single when Thanksgiving rolled around. About five months ago, Bradley Bradshaw had finally grown the balls to ask Jake out. And while Jake agreed to go out with him at the time, he had never regretted that decision more than he did right now.

The eldest Seresin sibling had just been notified by his younger sister of the date and time of this year's Thanksgiving celebration. Even though the time around the table was usually awful, the food was delicious and Jake got to see his grandmother. So, the pilot made a point of attending every year. The meal was set to take place a few days after Thanksgiving day, in about a week's time. While this may have seemed like a no-brainer to anybody else, this was one of the most important decisions in Jake’s life.

He had already had Thanksgiving dinner with Maverick and Admiral Kazansky, Bradley’s family. It would be weird to tell his boyfriend that he wasn’t allowed to come to his family's dinner. Especially given the fact that he was currently sitting on the couch in Iceman’s living room. Bradley was in the kitchen, helping the older men tidy up.

Of course, Jake wanted to be able to take the man he loved with him to visit his family. He wanted to parade him around and show him off. After all, it was what Bradley deserved. However, that simply wasn’t an option. If Jake knew for a fact that he could bring Bradley into that house without having everyone berate the two of them, he wouldn’t be thinking twice about inviting the mustached aviator.

But he knew that would never be the case. Jake knew that the second he walked through that door, holding Bradley’s hand proudly, his father would lose his mind. George Seresin was a very religious man. Ever since he was young, his father had shoved the family's religion down Jake’s throat. Sunday mornings were spent at church. His mother would regularly host a bible study with all of the other women from the church. While he knew that his grandmother would support anything that made him happy, he knew his parents wouldn’t be as gracious.

One time, just before Jake graduated high school, he had tried to go out with a guy in his class. He knew it was a mistake the second they stepped into the diner. In the corner was one of the women who attended his mother's bible study. There was a sour look on her face for the rest of the afternoon. By the time Jake got home that night, he was positive that his mother had already been informed of his dining partner. He had never been more correct. He had never seen his parent so pissed. For the first time since he was a boy, his father had slapped him.

That memory left a look on his face so sour that even Bradley noticed when he walked in. “Everything okay, baby?” Now, the nickname that would usually make his smile made his insides burn. Jake remained silent. With furrowed brows, Bradley moved to sit beside his boyfriend. He could see the text on his phone from the corner of his eye. “Your families having Thanksgiving dinner in a couple days?” It was posed as an innocent question, but Jake couldn’t help but look for the hidden meaning behind it.

The blond pilot cleared his throat. “Yeah,” Nodding with a clenched jaw, Jake tried as hard as he could to avoid eye contact with his concerned boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m heading out in two days.” Instantly, Bradley’s eyebrow rose. Jake had specified that he was going, not that they were going.

Jake didn’t seem to want to talk about it anymore, so Bradley took it upon himself to ask the question he was dreading. “Any chance I’m coming with you?” There was a soft smile on his face. One that quickly disappeared when Jake stood from the couch sharply.

“No, Bradshaw,” Jake never called his boyfriend by his last name since they got together. “Just me. You’re not coming.” And suddenly it all clicked. Instantly, Bradley knew why Jake didn’t want to take him to meet his family.

The blond pilot moved to leave the room, choosing instead to join Iceman and Maverick in the kitchen. Bradley stood, not ready to put the conversation to bed yet. “Are you ashamed of me?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Did he want to know the answer? Not really. Did he need to know the answer? Definitely.

Jake froze, keeping his back turned to his boyfriend as he sucked in a sharp breath. “We’re not talking about this right now.” And then he stepped out of the room. Surely Bradley wouldn’t try to have this conversation in front of Mav and Ice. Right? Oh, how wrong he was. The mustached aviator followed him into the kitchen where the older men were chatting happily and laughing quietly.

“No,” It was firm, so firm in fact that it stopped the conversation between Mav and Ice dead in its tracks. “You’re going to tell me. Right now.” With one look shared between the two, Mav and Ice left the room wordlessly.

Dragging a hand down his face, Jake spun on his heel to face the upset pilot. “What do you want me to say, Bradshaw?” His arms were thrown out to the side, a humourless chuckle falling from his chapped lips. “You’re not coming. End of story,” Bradley’s mind began working a mile a minute, trying to decipher what had changed so drastically that Jake wouldn’t even attempt to persuade his family to open up to the idea of the two of them. There was only one possibility that came to mind. “I can’t fucking do this,” Jake scoffed and grabbed his jacket. “I’m leaving.”

Their backs were turned on each other when Bradley spoke next. The hope and joy that was once in his voice was long gone by now. “Why can’t you love me?” It all seemed to click at that moment. Regardless of the amount of times that Bradley had told Jake that he loved him, he had never heard anything close in response. The kitchen remained eerily silent. The kind of silence that made your skin crawl. But Bradley felt numb. No skin crawling, no emotional pain, no anger. Nothing.

Bradley wanted to spend the rest of his life with Jake. He was willing to sacrifice anything to be with him. However, it seemed like the sentiment was not returned. Jake wasn’t even willing to try. Why couldn’t he just love Bradley? Was that too much to ask? Bradley realized that it must have been the second that Jake walked out the door without another word, plunging the house into a horrifying silence.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @bradleybeachbabe @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @callsignharper @seitmai

[nowhxreboy]

You’re too sweet for me - Top Gun Fanfiction

I wrote yet another top gun fic, this one centres around the ship goosemavcarole. I hope you enjoy ! Any feedback is highly appreciated!

[topgunruinedme]

Seen not heard - DADvrick

Synopsis: Rooster and Payback pull a prank on Hangman, not realizing it could have been fatal. Maverick and Iceman step in to help the pilot recover.

"He will never be allowed to fly again; do you realize that?"

Word count: 4,023

On A03

Main Master list, Hangman Master List, Prologue.

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so they may be mistakes.

It had been a long eventful day. Maverick managed to shoot him down again despite his best efforts the old man just wouldn’t go down, and then he had to deal with the teasing Phoenix dealt out. As if she herself had not been shot down by the man. He was beyond tired, but he had stayed back after class to look at some old flight manuals. If he was going to beat Pop’s he needed to be in the same court, he couldn’t do that if he didn’t have the ball.

He hadn’t realized how late he had stayed; he hadn’t realised the light in the look had long past dimmed and the crickets had started chirping. He glanced at the clock passingly before realizing it was almost 8 pm, he stood and rolled his shoulders back with a groan. These chairs were certainly not made for long-term use, he winced as his back cracked loudly in the quiet room. He let out a yawn as he collected his book and pen before stepping out into the hallway towards the parking lot. Thank heavens the classroom he had picked wasn’t far, he really didn’t want to walk halfway across base to get to his truck.

It was awfully quiet for a Naval base at night, he could faintly hear a few janitors and the occasional Admiral talking in their office. That’s why he loved studying at night, it was so much more peaceful. The world was sleeping around him, he stepped out into the parking lot; glad to see his truck, his lip twitched in relief. He had hardly made it two steps towards his truck before it happened.

Jake didn’t have any time to react when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled away from his car. His keys and books slipped from his grip, and he fought his capture.   His shout was muffled by a hand as he was dragged backwards down a familiar hallway. He saw the classroom he had been studying in passingly as he attempted to dig his feet into the ground to stop them, he only achieved in the souls of his shoes creating a loud squeaking noise on the polished floor before one of his captures kicked his legs out from under him; forcing him to lose his leverage as he was dragged along.

The further into the hallway they travelled the darker it got, why the hell was the lights turned off?

He struggled against his captures almost breaking free once when he shoved his elbow back into someone, the man grunted in pain and Jake's eyes widened at the familiar voice before he was recaptured. Tight grips on his arms and waist as they forced him into an office. There was a chair, it looked out of place - clearly being placed there for this purpose alone. Someone shoved their weight on him, forcing him to stumble blindly into the chair. The other capture did quick work at tying his ankles and wrists to the chair while he was retrained. He attempted to strain and looked around in the darkness to find something, a hint at his capture's, anything. His heart pounded in his ears, unable to move as the rope pulled around his chest as he threw himself forward attempting to dislodge it. He managed to dislodge it enough to sink his teeth into the man’s hand, and his capture jerked away with a cry of pain.

“He bit me!” a hand was thrusted through his hair grabbing a fair chunk of it and yanked his head back using their other hand to force his jaw open as something was forced between his teeth. “Shut up you idiot!” the other person hissed as the object in his teeth straps were tightened and dug painfully into the skin of his cheeks. It made swallowing hard, and he felt a moment of panic as if he was suffocating.

“Done,” the first person said stiffly as they yanked the rope tightly, “let’s get the hell out of here!” he stood and herded the other person out of the room. The small light in the hall allowed a small stream of light to tumble in revealing the face of Rooster and Payback.

“See you later” Rooster smirked, and Payback laughed, “let’s see him leave his wingman after this”, as they shut the door leaving him in pitch darkness.

-

Nobody will come for you, a voice that sounded frightening like his father muttered. They don’t care about a pilot like you, dead weight. You’re not even useful, just the spare.

His mind flashed back to the day of the mission when Maverick decided who was the mission leader. He hadn’t slept the night before too afraid to go to sleep spending most of the night throwing up, petrified. This was a suicide mission no one should be happy to go on. It was their job, to go where they are told. There was no guarantee they would come back from this.

He had known the moment Maverick stood in front of them all, he didn’t once take his eyes off Rooster. Don’t, don’t make that mistake he begged silently, don’t let the past get in the way.

But there was nothing he could do, “Rooster” the man declared anyway. Jake felt like his heart had dropped, he had tried. He had worked so hard to get here, he tried to get along with the others. He wasn’t going to pretend this wasn’t dangerous, he wasn't going to put himself in danger because the others were playing house. Why wasn’t he enough? He had tried to work with the others, he had gotten better. He had been flying successfully with the others, he tried to prove himself. He was the only one to pass the mission, the simulation. The only one to get close to the time, the only one to lead without complications or death, Rooster was the only one in the squadron who didn’t pass the mission!

He was going to get them all killed.

“The dagger spare will be Hangman”, dagger spare, that’s all he ever was a spare. Maverick was going to get everyone killed, no one was coming home from this mission.

His father chuckled in his ear; see boy they can see through you. Through that pathetic act, you put on. They can see you.

He wasn’t terribly surprised to hear Maverick go down, or that Rooster ever the stupid impulsive spoilt man he was went back after him getting shot down himself. He was relieved to see dagger, 3 and 4 return, even if they were grieving the loss of the others.

It was inevitable, he had warned them all in the beginning.

But then they had survived, somehow. Wrecking 2, two-million-dollar planes pointlessly in the process. He was ordered to go after them, Hangman fixing it once again.

He didn’t remember much of the time in the air, he said something about putting a tray up, trying to focus on his pounding heart in his ears and trying to force down his own panic. He heard Rooster laugh and forced himself to continue their usual banter. But once they were on the ground, he had been forgotten again, shoved to the side.

Maverick and Rooster reunited, and the crew celebrated, Javy came to his side silently and lead him away. Hidden in his rooms, his hands trembling and his chest constricting in the undeniable panic as his best friend held him as he sobbed. He had killed again, this time he hadn’t hesitated.

When he joined the celebration, everyone seemed to have forgotten his sacrifice, his kill. They ignored him, he sat at the table eating silently with Javy by his side as they watched Maverick and Rooster be flaunted and fawned over. He wasn’t sure he even wanted that; he was somewhat grateful he was so forgettable. His achievements were forgotten.

But they didn’t even acknowledge him in their squadron anymore, he didn’t attempt to sit with them anymore, receiving odd looks. “What do you want Bagman?”, they didn’t want him.

He wasn’t the best, not anymore, they didn’t need him anymore. He had spent every night worrying someone would come and tell him to leave, that Top Gun was only reserved for the best. His anxiety jumped every time he heard someone knock on the door, always keeping a go-bag packed and ready to go. For two weeks straight until they hit land.

His heart jumped, and he swore he had heard footsteps behind him. He strains his eyes to look out in the dark. A familiar chuckle entered the room, and he felt the blood in his face leave, and he pulled at the ropes in desperation.

“Did you really think you could escape me boy?” his father whispered as he leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear, Jake could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I’ll make you pay for staying away so long” the man promised, Jake yanked harder at the restraints, feeling them chaff his skin and the pain of it rubbing them raw. He attempted to cry out waiting for the unforgettable whip of a belt on his back, only becoming more distressed when it didn’t immediately come as the room stayed silent.

Where was he? Why was he drawing it out? Why was he tormenting him?

“Why did you not get top marks, boy?” the man finally spoke again, Jake’s eyes tried to scan the room in confusion. His body jerked as the wind from the window caused the blink the smack against the wall, making a ‘bang’ flood through the room. He could feel sweat rolling down his back, which only prompted the next question.

“Why is your uniform in such disarray?” the man fumed, “Do you have no pride!”. Jake shifted his jaw as if to speak when his father cut him off, “Did I say you could speak?”. His tone was a cold and frightening one, he had become used to it early in his childhood facing down the furious man.

“Little boys are seen not heard” his father whispered softly, the familiar manter he had heard throughout his childhood.

“Stop your sniffing!” his father yelled causing him to flinch, he hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down his face. “Only little girls and weak men cry” he sneered, he heard the terrifyingly familiar snap of a belt hitting the air, and his father’s deadly voice “do I need to give you a reminder?”. Jake couldn’t stop the whimper he releases, his eyes screwed up in fear as he waited for the belt to strike.

-

Maverick signed as he searched through the hazardly stuffed documents he had put in his bag this morning before realizing he was missing one. Damit, it must still be in his office, he had no clue how he had missed it; he had just grabbed the entire lot and stuffed them in. although he didn’t pay attention to what they were, maybe it had just slid his notice. He ran a hand through his hair in exhaustion, it was already making itself aware. He hadn’t been sleeping well, he never did when Ice was away on meetings, he was thankful his husband had returned last night. Although he was glad to finally have a chance to get some decent sleep, he did everything but sleep last night. He left his bag on the bike as he started the short trip back to the office.

Slider had stayed to keep him company while Ice was away, while he appreciated the man’s concern, his taunting and misplaced jokes got old quickly. He really hoped the man was gone when he got home, he didn’t want a repeat of this morning. Slider had smirked at him over his cup of coffee, “Have a good night last night?”. Ice hadn’t even batted an eye at the man, of cause they spend most of their Navy career living in the same room. It was not something new to Ice, Maverick however still couldn’t get used to how casual the man was about sexy to have the gull comment about it to his face not even an hour after.

He stilled when he heard a noise, he frowned and flicked on the lights in the hallway. Why were they off? It was far too early for the janitors to leave yet. He heard it again. A small whimper, and then someone cried out, it was muffled but definitely there. He followed it to his office; he was not looking forward to interrupting two lieutenants who decided to try and have a tumble in his office as an idea of fun.

He opened the door with an air of caution.

-

Jakes’s eyes flew open when he heard the door open, light flooded into the room. Maverick stood in the doorway with a look of confusion and horror.

Please! Please help me, Maverick! Please chase away my monster! Don’t let him hurt me!

-

He hadn’t expected this, the terrified clouded blue eyes that were stretched wide. Visible strips ran down his face where tears had been previously, the red ball gap shoved between the man’s teeth preventing him from speaking. His arms were tied behind him on the chair the rope stretching across his chest all the way down to his legs efficiently pinning him to the chair, making it impossible to be in any type of comfortable position forcing him to sit up straight.

“Jake?” he rushed to the man; the boy was trembling in the chair. He pulled the boy’s head forward resting it on his stomach as he quickly undid the buckle of the gag. He carefully pulled it from Jake’s skin and gently urged the man to open his mouth wider to pull it out. There were distinct marks on his teeth where he had subconsciously bitten into the ball in an attempt to escape. He then allowed the man to rest his head against him as he rubbed the man’s undoubtedly sore jaw; his other hand running through the man sweat covered hair. Allowing the panicking man to pant against him, chest heaving as he whispered to him soothingly. It’s alright, just breathe. I’m here now.

“Are you ready to continue?” he asked softly, Jake whimpered “no? that’s ok we can stay here for a bit. Whenever you’re ready” he stroked the man’s hair softly. Very slowly, Jake’s breathing started to settle into a steady rhythm.

Jake nodded giving him permission to continue, he stepped back releasing him; stepped around behind him as he went looking for the pocketknife, he kept in his desk drawer. He heard the desperate whine, and Jake let out in distress.

“I know Jake, I’m going as fast as I can alright” he tried to soothe as he found the knife and rushed back to the man’s side. He grabbed Jake’s wrists and mumbled softly to the terrified man, “I’m going to start cutting now, try not to move”. Maverick focused on the boy’s grip that was holding his wrist desperate for contact as he pulled the rope away from his wrists to ensure he didn’t cut the younger man, wincing as the robe tightened somewhere else on his body; cut the robe thread by thread.

He waited anxiously as the robe strained against more and more weight until it finally snapped, cut through and dropped to the ground. Jake sagged forward without the strict rope holding him back, Maverick quickly shifted the knife out of the way, so the man didn’t skew himself on it. Jake cried out in pain when he attempted to move his numb arms, “they’re going to be sore for a little while, darling” Maverick said as he rubbed up his left arm carefully to his shoulder and then repeated it on the other side, paying extra time to carefully rub his raw wrists where the ropes had down the most damage.

“Alright, I’m going to move on to your legs next alright?” he warned waiting until Jake nodded, Maverick knelt to cut the robes around his ankles. He felt the man’s hand grip the back of his t-shirt. He was still trembling still, he stood back up chucking the knife to the side when Jake was free. “Alright I’m going to lift you Jake”, he warned lifting his arms under the man’s shoulders and knees standing adjusting to the man’s weight.

Thank God it was after hours, he stepped out into the hall quickly using the back hallways towards the med bay.

He moved swiftly not wanting to risk raking to much time, this may not have hurt the man physically but who knows what it did to him psychologically?

“I need help over here!” he yelled out as he shouldered his way into the med bay, startling the idle medical staff. Forcing them to jump into action as he placed the trembling man onto the bed.

He attempted to bring the covers over Jake to give him something to ground him, but it only made him panic more, “please don’t” Jake asked with a small voice. Looking up at him, “don’t tie me up again, I’ll be good” Jake whispered his jaw trembling. Maverick swallowed hard and gripped the boy’s hand, he wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t.

He dug out his phone from his pocket confident he would be spending many more hours here and sent a message to his husband.

-

He stood in front of his class the next day after spending all night in the midday by Jake’s side before Ice took over. He stared at the empty chair in the otherwise full classroom he didn’t miss Rooster and Payback’s grins. Please no.

“Last night, there was an incident involving Lieutenant Seresin” he started sullenly, his eyes scanning the class; “I’m giving you a chance now to step up and take responsibility before I start my own investigation”. Rooster’s lips twitched and he nudged Payback who laughed, “it was just some harmless fun sir” Payback smiled, “Rooster and I, we just wanted to teach him a lesson”.

-

Ice stared at him from his crouched position beside him, “go, ill watch over him. I promise nothing will happen; I’ll get you the moment he’s awake” his husband promised with a kiss.

-

Maverick clenched his jaw, oh god please no. “Congratulations” he watched confusion fall over the class, “Lieutenant Seresin had been removed from active duty and handed in his wings. You have single-handedly dragged a man out of the sky for your own entertainment”.

-

The nurses looked at him in sorrow “I’m Sorry Captain Mitchell, He failed his physiological exam. I can’t in good conscience let him fly any time soon”.

“When?”

“He might never recover”

-

“What?” Rooster asked in shock, “we didn’t do anything to him!”. Maverick closed his eyes for a moment to retain his anger and despair, we didn’t raise you like this.

-

“What do you mean he won’t recover?”

“It will take time, a lot of time. He will need someone to be there for him. Every moment of the day-”

“I’ll be there, we both will”

-

He opens his eyes and forces himself to look blankly at the man, “There will be an investigation and a trial. Please hand in your wings”. Don’t make me take them.

He watched devastation and anger crawl onto Bradley’s face, this was like when he pulled his papers all over again.

Expect this time he hurt someone; he couldn’t stand for that.

He held out his hand palm face up as he watched Rooster stand and shove the pin into his outstretched hand storming out to the door, Payback was much quieter placing it carefully down on the palm.

“Bradley” he stopped the boy before he could storm out, his form almost vibrating in anger. Bradley stopped in the doorway standing stiffly but did not turn to him, this was exactly like his papers.

“He will never be allowed to fly again; do you realize that?” Bradley stood there for a moment before storming out, he had lost 3 pilots in a day.

The room was silent for the most of it, surprisingly it was Bob who broke the silence pulling his gaze away from the empty doorway the two men have long left. “Sir” Bob broached carefully sending him a concerned look, almost nervous “is he ok?”.

Bob was asking about Jake; he hadn’t even realized the two men were talking. But Bob seemed worried almost, “Stay after class Bob, Class dismissed” he waved his hand clenching his fist with the pins as the classroom emptied.

Bob silently stood and came to his side as they waited for the classroom to empty. Once the last person left, and the door slid shut, Maverick leaned back on his desk with a wearily sign.

“I’m not going to sugar-coat it, Bob. It’s not good” He held out a hand before the younger man could talk, “I can’t tell you what happened, but you can come to see him” he added hesitantly, “if you want that is”.

The WSO nodded silently and followed him without prompting, they walked down the busy hallways moving around people. Not once did Bob move from his shoulder, when had this happened? He didn’t remember Jake talking directly to bob once, surely this wasn’t a hidden in private friendship. He watched the man out of the corner of his eye, the man was fiddling with his book, bending it before soothing the creases out of It; moving determinedly but also attempting to keep to the same pace he was. He could see the man’s pace speed up almost anxious when the med bay came into sight, perhaps the man wasn’t aware of it.

Bob walked straight into the hospital bay without any hesitation walking past his husband to Jake’s bedside. He wasn’t sure if Bob just didn’t care at that point or if he hadn’t realised the man in civies was Admiral Kazansky but he didn’t stand at attention or salute. Ice let it pass silently moving to give the man space, Bob didn’t look at him once his attention was captured by Jake who looked at him with a dopey smile.

“Hey,” Jake said quietly as the younger man who pulled the man over the bed and brought him into a hug, “hey” Bob grinned at the man shyly.

Ice moved to the side and came to Maverick side, “How is he?” Maverick asked his husband softly. Ice signed and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s not good” he admitted, “they think he’s claustrophobic, he won’t let the nurses give him any blankets. I’m not sure how he’s going to get back into the cock pit Mav”.

“Well take care of him” Maverick smiled, Ice returned it and kissed his husband on the cheek as he pulled the smaller man in for a hug, “the spare bedroom is already set up for him”. Thank God Slider had left, he couldn’t deal with the man on top of this.

Maverick laughed softly, “God I knew I loved you for a reason”.

-

“Maverick?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you ever get that document you were after?”

Maverick mind blanked and he let out a startled laugh, after all, that had happened in the last two days, he had forgotten all about it. He laid his head back on his husband’s shoulder the man just rolled his eyes fondly.

A/N: What does everyone thing about possibly turning this into a series?

Tag List: @tallrock35, @inthestars-underthesun, @luckyladycreator2, @fortunatelycrazyyouth, @lgkoval.

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 14: "What's that smell?"

This prompt was altered because there was accidentally a day double up, so the prompt became what's that smell?

Rooster is in a car accident- it's not graphic, it's not described, he has a concussion and has surgery on his shoulder.

I was gonna make a joke about miles not reading these but honestly i think I gave myself a nightmare even thinking about it. I will now refrain from those jokes.

-

A knock at her door disturbed Phoenix out of her deep sleep, groaning as she glanced up to grab her phone. The second knock brought her back to reality and she frowned, slipping out of bed.

“Natasha Trace? SDPD.”

She rammed her fist on Bob’s door in passing, running to the front door. She’d barely unlocked it when she realised she wasn’t wearing pants and grabbed the throw blanket off the couch, wrapping it around her at the last second.

“I’m Natasha. What’s going on?”

“My name is Detective Burgess and this is my partner Detective Atwater; may we come in?”

She slowly backed up, letting the police into her apartment. Bob appeared from his room, shrugging on a hoodie and sweatpants.

“Tasha? Wha’s goin’ on?”

“The police are here.”

“Lieutenant Robert Floyd, US Navy. What can we do for you?”

Bob’s blue eyes flickered between his pilot and the police, standing by her shoulder.

“This is regarding a... Bradley Bradshaw?”

Phoenix swallowed.

“Is he okay?”

“Ma’am-“

“-no, tell me. Is he okay?”

“Ma’am...”

Detective Atwater gestured for her to sit on the couch; Bob stood by the edge almost as a protective guard dog.

“There’s been an accident.”

The air shot out of her chest and Phoenix abruptly turned to Bob.

“Can you-“

“-gotcha.”

He got up, moving down the hall into her room. Finally alone, Phoenix swallowed the panic and turned to the officers.

“Is it bad?”

“It’s probably better that we just get you to the hospital, ma’am, we can explain more later.”

Detective Burgess’ voice was polite but firm. Bob returned with a pair of sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt, her Nike sneakers and one of his hoodies... actually, it may have been Coyote’s... or even Hangman’s? Honestly, everyone was sharing sweatshirts except for her at this point. She ducked into the bathroom and quickly got dressed, going back to join Bob who had packed a bag.

“Tash,” he started softly, “you should probably call Mav.”

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. Bob ran a hand down her arm, turning back to the detectives.

“Rooster- uh, Bradley- has a godfather in town. They only reconciled in the last couple months but he’s going to need to know.”

“We can make that notification if need be,” Detective Atwater offered softly. Phoenix shook her head.

“No; it needs to come from me. I can... I’ll call him from the hospital. Bob, could you call the others?”

“At a more decent time, yeah.”

“Let us give you a ride to the hospital,” Detective Burgess offered easily. She and Detective Atwater stood to wait by the front door. Before they could go anywhere, Bob pulled Phoenix up and into a hug.

“Take a breath; if it was serious they would have been more urgent. It’s goin’ to be alright.”

-

Maverick came flying through the doors to the emergency room, Penny in tow as he ran through hallways and dodged health workers.

“Mav.”

Bob rounded the corner, cradling a cup of coffee. Maverick put a hand on his shoulder.

“Is he okay? What do we know?”

“Phoenix is with him now.”

“Bob?”

“He was talkin’ for a little while but it was just... fuckin’ nonsense, Mav. He asked for his parents first, then you, uh, Seresin... then he realised Tasha was there and he made her promise that she wasn’t going anywhere. They’re just waiting for an OR to open up so they can fix his shoulder. It’s kinda gross right now but he hasn’t said anything about it and they doped him up on pain meds to the point that he’s probably going to sleep until they get him into surgery.”

“Can I see him?”

Bob stepped aside. Maverick took a deep breath then entered the room. His eyebrows raised.

“Fuck, Bradley. Oh, kid...”

-

Sitting on the seat by Rooster’s bedside, legs drawn to her chest under Bob’s hoodie, Phoenix scrubbed at her eyes tiredly as she watched over him. The door opened and Maverick stopped. Phoenix hummed.

“It looks bad; they sedated him for his shoulder but he should be heading up for surgery in a couple minutes.”

It was wrapped and iced, but Maverick knew the damage was extensive. He wasn’t entirely sure how he had hurt his shoulder so badly but it wasn’t his main concern. He took a seat on the end of the hospital bed and Phoenix adjusted, reaching for the cup of coffee sitting on the table beside her.

“What did they say about his head?”

“They said the MRI showed some signs of a TBI but they said they couldn’t see the extent of it until after they did the surgery on his shoulder and woke him up. If anything, he’s catching up on his sleep.”

Maverick snorted in amusement.

“God knows he could use that.”

“I didn’t know I was still his next of kin,” Phoenix murmured, “I thought it would have been changed to you.”

“We talked about it, but at the end of the day you were the one who showed up last time he was in a car accident, the one who hauled his ass to the hospital when he had appendicitis and the one who probably knows more of his history from when he left to now.”

“He’s my best friend. Sometimes we go months without talking but I know I can call him and he knows I’m only a text away.”

“That was how I felt about me and Goose; his dad. We didn’t have texting then and I only lived five minutes away for most of our friendship but I had no doubt if we were separated he would have still been there. I’m glad Bradley’s carried that into his relationships.”

There was a knock at the door and then a surgeon stepped into the room, sending a polite smile between Phoenix and Maverick.

“Alright; we’re going to take him into surgery now. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“Thanks. C’mon, Tash, we should probably start calling the others.”

Maverick got off the bed and Phoenix followed him out of the room. They joined Bob in the waiting room, flopping down either side of him. He cleared his throat, patting his phone on his thigh.

“I called Fanboy because I swear he doesn’t sleep and he told Payback, then he woke Coyote because he was yelling.”

“I always forget those three live together,” Maverick mused. Phoenix hummed.

“He called Hangman until do not disturb disabled and woke him up. He’s pissed and a little confused but now they all know. They’re all going to come by when he’s out of surgery.”

-

By the time Rooster was out of surgery and transferred to recovery the sun was rising and the rest of the Daggers, all early risers due to their career choices, stumbled into the waiting area. Fanboy passed around coffee that didn’t taste like ass and Payback had breakfast sandwiches for everyone. They all sat around the waiting room talking quietly until a nurse came to find Phoenix, suggesting quietly that she go in first alone before they let the others in. She glanced back to check with Maverick but he smiled and waved her off.

“Go for it; let us know when you’re ready.”

She squeezed his shoulder and followed the nurse down the corridor to his recovery room. The nurse stopped her just outside the door.

“I know it’s a lot to see, but know that at the moment we’re just waiting for him to wake up from the anaesthetic. We won’t know if he’s suffered any brain damage until we can wake him up and talk to him.”

“I get it,” she reassured, “he was in a similar accident a while back.”

“Don’t tell the cops that,” the nurse suggested. She stepped aside, letting Phoenix go and sit by Rooster’s bedside. She stifled a snort when she caught sight of his hospital gown, knowing how fast he’d try to get out of it and into something a little more comfortable. Luckily Penny had dropped off a change of clothes for him and they were now in Phoenix’s arms. She sighed, putting a hand on his arm.

“Can you stop doing this shit, dude? I’m not even thirty and I swear to god my heart can’t take your stunts. It physically hurts.”

She took stock of his other injuries; his head had a non-stick dressing covering what looked like a gash and she could only imagine the headache he was going to have when he woke up. There were bruises on both of his arms which most likely would be carried down his legs as well.

“Alright; let’s go let the team in. God knows they’ll be dying to see you.”

Phoenix gathered her thoughts and got up from the chair, touching Rooster’s side.

“You gotta wake up and knock Hangman down a few pegs, you’ve only been out a couple hours and he’s more insufferable than usual.”

-

They lay around for hours, switching out occasionally between bathroom breaks, errands and snack runs. For the most part Maverick and Phoenix didn’t move until the others managed to convince Phoenix to take a nap; she was asleep against Bob on the couch in the room in seconds. Maverick stayed by Rooster’s bedside, talking quietly with the others and then speaking to Penny briefly before he started getting antsy.

“Surely he should have woken by now,” he blurted, “this isn’t right.”

“Mav; he had surgery, these things take time. He’s probably exhausted too.”

“Man, I’m fuckin’ hungry,” Hangman complained loudly, earning multiple hushes from the others. He rolled his eyes, waving them off.

“I’m goin’ to find a decent meal that hasn’t come from a vending machine.”

“God, please get me something that isn’t a cheez-it,” Fanboy called after him which earned a vulgar hand gesture. Everyone snorted, stretching out. Bob glanced down at Phoenix who was still snoozing on his shoulder and smiled to himself, adjusting to make sure she was comfortable. With Hangman gone on his mission, Fanboy talking to his family in the parking lot and Payback having gone home for a nap, Bob turned back to Maverick.

“Sir; why don’t you go home? You’ve been awake this whole time, we’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“Thanks, Bob, but I’d rather stay.”

Bob had a feeling that was the way it was going to go and he nodded in understanding.

-

Another hour went by; the doctor came and went, followed by a nurse and then an occupational therapist to check if he was okay with his shoulder. Hangman finally returned with burritos for everyone; Bob woke Phoenix and she ate half then passed the rest to Coyote. As they were finishing and tossing whatever was left into the bag they heard a groan.

“What’s that smell?”

“Bradley?”

Maverick stood, watching Rooster turn his head to the side toward the paper bag of unwanted food.

“Is that a burrito?”

“Are you okay?”

“Can I have some?”

Rooster extended his hand but Payback caught it, placing it back on the bed.

“Maybe later when you can sit upright.”

“But I’m really hungry. Mav- please? Phoenix?”

“Nice try Roos,” Maverick snorted. He squeezed his good shoulder.

“How do you feel?” Fanboy asked.

“Hungry,” Rooster complained loudly. That made the others burst into laughter and Bob stood to go and find a nurse. Phoenix sat up, scrubbing at her eyes before going over to give Rooster a hug.

“Heart can’t take it, huh?” He whispered. In response she rolled her eyes.

“If you weren’t hurt I could actually smack you right now.”

“C’mon, Tash; m’fine. Shoulder hurts a little but it’s not bad.”

“Just wait until the drugs wear off,” Maverick smiled. He took another look over Rooster, then cleared his throat and gestured to the door.

“Back in a sec.”

The others watched him make a swift exit and exchanged looks, then Coyote slipped out the door to give him a pep talk and Hangman took a seat on the end of Rooster’s bed.

“So, how hungry are you again?”

“Make it a sex joke, Bagman, I dare you,” Bob said from the door.

“You’re such a mood killer, baby on board.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the comment.”

“Guys... food?”

“Not yet, Lieutenant.”

The doctor approached, nurse in tow and they did a quick exam. Satisfied, they shifted his bed into a sitting position.

“Let’s see how you go and we’ll check in after an hour or so. Then we can talk about some hospital food,” the doctor suggested.

“But... burrito...”

“Trust me, man, you don’t want a burrito on bed rest,” Coyote said as he came back in, Maverick by his side. Hangman nudged Rooster’s leg.

“What about water?”

“Hmmmm... fine.”

-

[ohtobeleah]

Bleed For This // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: It’s not Maverick that goes down in the Snowy Mountains, but you & Bradley Bradshaw. And someone doesn’t make it back.

Warnings: Character Death. F-18 crash. Bradley Bradshaw x best friend!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Author Note: Day Fourteen of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Bleeding through the bandage. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It wasn't supposed to end like this, with you standing over the freshly laid dirt that covered your best friend's coffin. It wasn't supposed to end like this, the two of you. Your entire life you had been told over and over that you and Bradley Bradshaw were meant for each other. That the two of you were two peas in a pod, the light of each other's lives, the solace in each other's discomforts. Each other’s person. 

But yet here you were–standing over his freshly laid grave sight right next to the man who he strived every damn day to be every bit like. Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw and the woman whose heart was just as big as Bradleys, Carole Bradshaw. Bradley had always wanted to be every bit like his dad:

Now he was. 

“I should probably get you home.” It was Jake's hand on the small of your back that drew you out of your own little make believe world, where Bradley was still alive and you couldn't feel his blood on your hands. “Come on Kerner, let's get you home.” 

“Yeah–” You sighed in complete and utter defeat, it felt all too surreal to leave your best friend behind six feet under. “Do you think he's cold?”  You asked softly as Jake led you away from Bradleys fresh grave sight. The two of you were the last to leave as grey storm clouds loomed overhead just waiting for the perfect moment to pour down. “He shouldn’t have come for me Jake, if he had just gone back to the carrier, he’d be alive.” You still had your arm in a sling, your collarbone had been busted in your ejection. Your arm had been burned to pieces. “I should have brought him a blanket, it’s gonna be so cold tonight.” 

Jake couldn't begin to understand what it was like to lose someone you grew up with the way you and Bradley Bradshaw had. The two of you were the stuff of legend, the Nepotism duo, the lovers who were too blind, too stubborn, too focused on your careers to realise forever was standing right there. 

“I think he’s happy to be with his parents again.” Jake replied as he walked with you slowly, arm slung over your shoulder. He felt it was his duty to keep an eye on you. Your dad had asked that of him and who was Jake to deny the wishes of Commander Kerner. “You know Rooster, he groomed that stupid moustache every morning just to be a little like his dad.” That made you laugh, for all the times you teased Bradley for his moustache, you never did mean it. 

You were really going to miss that stupid moustache. Hell, you were really going to miss Rooster. You'd never stopped to think about a life without him earth side, and now you were living in it. 

In a world without Bradley Bradshaw. 

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

Two Weeks Prior:

Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. But from what you had tasted of desire you held with those who favour fire. But if you had to perish twice, you knew enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great and would suffice.

The icy snow made your body shiver and shake. It stung like nothing you had ever experienced before. It made your entire body rigid, like tiny pins and needles were jabbing into every little part of you. But then there was a warmth completely unparalleled to the burn of the snow that you laid face first in. It was a burn so deep that it took your breath away as you pushed yourself up to your knees. 

“Oh, oh fuck.” You hissed as your vision took a second to kick in. Amongst the blanket of china white snow that rivalled that of pure cut heroin, there were burning pieces of fuselage that flickered orange and red embers of fire every which way the wind chose to take them. 

Then it hit you, you’d been hit by a surface to air missile after trying to save your best friend. Rooster didn't have enough time on his side nor the flares to back up his manoeuvres. So without thinking, without a second of hesitation, you covered him and ended up taking the hit. You’d die for him any day of the week. 

“Shit–” Everything hurt as you took off your flight helmet. Your arm was completely burnt to the point your flight suit had melted right into your skin. You didn't know if it had been a flare or a part of your F-18 that was the culprit. But regardless of what had caused the burn, it fucking hurt. 

As you looked around the snowy forest you never imagined that you’d see what you saw next. You thought for sure you were a goner when you’d been hit, that no one would come for you. No one would turn back for you, look for your fighter jet wreckage, look for you. 

“Oh god no—“ You saw him flying across the open field, Rooster, your beloved Bradley, your best friend. He was looking for you. “No no no no no.” And in doing so had a S.A.M right on his tail. “Rooster no—“ And he was hit and hit hard all because he came back for you. 

Your lungs felt like they were on fire as you ran towards where you’d see Bradley pull his chute. Your legs wanted to give in as your muscles threatened to tear right off the bone. Every step, every pain filled stride you took your heart threatened to explode inside your chest. But you wouldn’t stop running, not until you got to Rooster. 

“Bradley!” You shouted when you saw him lying in a debris field of his own F-18, completely blown to smithereens. “Oh no, no no no no Rooster!” You had never run so fast and so hard and with such desperation before. It didn’t matter how much you hurt, you needed to get to your best friend, the love of your life. 

Who the fuck chose the both of you for this mission? Why the fuck did it have to be you? Be him? 

“Roo?” You cooed as you dropped to your knees beside him, the blood was oozing through his flight suit. He’d been hit pretty bad, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out just how bad this really was. “Oh god Rooster why?” 

Bradley was looking at you with all the love in the world, those baby cow eyes, so deep and brown and full of tears, looked at you like you were the light of his life. Because you were. You really really were. 

“Drifter—“ It was a play on your fathers callsign. Slider. It made sense, Goose and Rooster, Slider and Drifter. “Hi, hey—you’re okay?” The utter relief in Rooster's voice was evident the seconds his eyes scanned you up and down. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” 

“Hey.” You cooed as you let a shaky hand push the sweaty blonde locks away from Roosters forehead. “What are you doing down here Roo? You should be back on the carrier by now.” There was a pregnant pause between your question and Bradley’s answer as you watched blood pool at his lips. He was bleeding out and bleeding fast. 

“I had to make sure you were okay.” He admitted as you tried to make a makeshift bandage with the leg of your flight suit. Ripping the material clean off your own body. “I couldn’t—“ The cough was bloody and deep and it made your heart sink, but you knew you could save him. You could save Rooster if you tried hard enough. If you committed every ounce of your life to it. “I couldn’t leave you behind.” 

“Well you’re an idiot alright, you shouldn’t have come for me.” You sighed as you worked with what you had. “I’m sorry, this might hurt but I have to try and stop the bleeding alright.” 

“AAAHHH!” Rooster couldn’t hold in his screams as you pressed your hands into his stomach. The blood seeped straight through the makeshift bandage right between your fingers. “Fuck!! It hurts!” 

“Shhh, shhh it’s alright, I’ve got you.” You tried to soothe Bradley as you felt your tears welling in your eyes. “You’re fine, you’re fine, Rooster, I'm here.” Panic, pure panic was rising in your veins as adrenaline kept you from processing the fact your best friend was lying in the snowy field before you bleeding out through the bandages you had made. “You’re going to be okay, I just need you to focus and stay with me alright? You can do that for me can’t you Roo?” 

Bradley didn’t answer you as you applied previously against his wounds. You didn’t give up though, not for a second. 

“Bradshaw, I asked you a fucking question!” 

“I’ve been in love—“ It was a staggered confession as blood trickled out of Rooster mouth. Bloodstained teeth had never looked so good on a person. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Kerner.” Bradley’s eyes never left you as he spoke. He couldn’t feel anything but the cold kiss of death. He saw the reaper over your shoulder coming for him. “You’re my best friend, I just—needed you to—to know that.” 

“No.” You refused to believe this was happening as you watched Bradley’s blood seep between your fingers, staining your skin to the point where you knew no matter how much you tried to scrub them clean they wouldn’t ever be clean. “No, stop talking! You’re fine Rooster, please don’t leave me here.”

“I’ve always wanted to love you.” He kept speaking though, through the pain and the tears and the blood, Rooster kept telling you his deepest secrets. His biggest regret would always be not telling you sooner. His biggest regret would be never getting off his perch. “You’re gonna be alright—“

“For fuck sake Rooster you aren’t dying!” It was pure denial as you tried to stop him bleeding. You knew if you could get the bleeding to stop then you could save your best friend. “You can’t die, I don’t know how to live without you, you’re my person, so please, for the love of god just shut up and focus on staying alive.” 

Rooster didn’t speak for a few minutes, all he did was breathe and try to keep his eyes open. He focused on you and your profile, how beautiful you truly were—even in a situation like this. He thought about what it would be like to marry you, watch you grow old like he had since he was three, what it would be like to spend the rest of his life with you. He hoped that whoever did get to be your person next would be able to handle you and all your fire. That they never tried to smother it. He hoped that they would at the very least, add some fuel to the fire that burned in your soul. He hoped that they’d take care of you and love you and let you know how much you bring to this life. 

“Kiss me.” Bradley whispered just above something audible. “Kiss me, please Kerner.” 

“Rooster?” It was at that moment you knew he was going. His face was all clammy and he was oh so cold to the touch. 

“Please kiss me so I can go.” He begged you softly as he placed his hand on top of where your hands were covered in his blood over his stomach. “My dads here.” 

“Well tell Goose you aren’t ready!” The tears that left your body were grief stricken. It was like nothing you had ever felt before. To mourn someone you loved so deeply, so fiercely and so much that to imagine a life without them it took a piece of you with them. “Tell him you can’t go because I need you here.” You cried as you leaned over to press your forehead to Bradley’s. “You don’t get to die, tell whoever’s here for you to fuck off—you’re not dying.” 

“Just kiss me.” Was all Bradley cooed before you leaned in to press your lips against his. It wasn’t the first time, but it would be the last. He was oh so pale and cold as the ice he laid bleeding out on. You felt his blood on your lips and god you’d never forget that feeling. Whatever had struck him had completely decimated his stomach. No amount of bandages could save him. 

You never stood a chance they would later tell you. No amount of first aid could have saved Bradley Bradshaw. 

“I love you, I love you.” It was like a mantra, Rooster kept saying it over and over until you heard him stop. That’s how you knew he was gone. Because the silence was far too loud and far too heartbreaking and the sound of his I love yous would haunt you forever. 

“Damn you Bradshaw, I love you too.” You cried as you laid beside him, curled up against his body for what felt like eternity. When help arrived you refused to leave his side. And you didn’t until someone had you sedated on the carrier—

“I'm so sorry.” Jake sat in the medical bay watching over you as you slept. “I'm so sorry Kerner.” He spoke to himself as he thought about all the times Bradley had told him in drunken bar conversations how much he loved you, his best friend. “But he did what he did to make sure you got out, that you would be alright.” 

“He left me.” You mumbled just loud enough for Jake to hear. He didn’t know you were awake. You weren’t supposed to be, or so he thought. “He told me he loved me, and then he died.” You would have cried if you weren’t so dehydrated. “I lost my person. How do I recover from that?” 

Jake didn’t know what to tell you, so he didn’t speak. He simply held back his own tears and kissed your forehead. 

“I don’t know Drifter, I really don’t know.” 

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

Present 

“We’re gonna head out for a drink, just you and me.” Jake explained as he pulled you in under his arm a little more. The two of you were both dressed in your formal wear. It wasn't exactly the attire for casual drinking. 

“Oh, I can't Hangman.” You denied the proposal almost immediately. “I have to head home and sort out a bunch of Roosters belongings.” Jake understood, but he also knew you needed a friend before anything else right now. And what kind of friend would Jake Seresin be if he let the love of Bradley Bradshaw's life drown in her own inner turmoil?

“Yeah, but before you go do that, I think you need to whine about it some more to me first.” Jake knew that the last thing you wanted to do was to have to pack away your best friend's belongings knowing he’d never need them again. He guessed it was the downfall of sharing an apartment off base with the guy. “I'd be pretty pissed off too if Bradshaw left his crap lying around and I had to clean up after him, so, you definitely need a drink or two.” 

You didn't reply straight away as you walked through the cemetery that now held three Bradshaws. But when you did, Jake's heart sank just a little more inside his chest for you. 

“What are you afraid of?” You asked softly as you stopped and turned to face the man who hadnt left your side since you were brought back to the carrier. Completely distraught and shell shocked. “That I’m gonna–” Before you could even finish your sentence Jake interrupted. 

“I'm afraid that you’re gonna keep crawling into my bed after busting into my apartment in the middle of the night.” That much was true, you had done that a handful of times. But to be fair, Jake never locked his door. He really needed to start doing that. “Look, Rooster left his Bronco to me.” Jake sighed as he looked up at the sky, watching as rain threatened to fall. “But he also left me you too.” He explained with a solemn smile. “It's just us now and I don't know, if you need someone to bitch to or just be–” It was your turn to interrupt.

“My person.” 

“I don't know what you mean?” Jake sighed as he looked back over his shoulder up to where Bradley's grave lay. He swore he could see him, watching Jake as he tried his best to comfort the love Bradley left behind. The love he hoped Jake would cherish as much as he did. 

“But you do.” You smiled softly before you pulled Jake in for a hug. You'd never see your best friend again in the land of the living, but you had a person in Jake Seresin. And he was determined to keep his promise to your dad, to watch over you always. He was going to be your person no matter what. 

“I've got you Kerner.” Jake rubbed his hand up and down your back to soothe your cries. He could feel you crying in his arms. You'd been through a lot, lost a lot too. But you weren't about to lose Jake. 

Not now, not ever. “I've got you.” 

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

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

[andmakeithome]

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Mav says. “If you had just left me behind—”

“Then you’d be bloodied swiss cheese out there,” Bradley snaps, fear clawing its way back up his throat. “You’d be dead, Mav."

or: Maverick and Rooster get captured during the mission.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Middle of Nowhere (Part 3)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, dark!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, dark!Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Reader (no relationships) Summary: While he waits for the timer to count down, Bradley reflects on the game, how it all started, and his plans for you once he finds you. That is if Jake doesn't get to you first. Word Count: 2705 TW: Kidnapping, Language, Mentions of Murder and Mutilation, Hunted for Sport, Getting Off on Thoughts of Violence/Death, Bradley's POV Notes:I am EXTREMELY proud and excited about this series and hope you enjoy! Huge thank you to @loverhymeswith and @green-socks for all of your help!💕

Series Masterlist

Bradley watches his little fox scamper off into the darkness, silently counting down the seconds until he can begin the hunt. Usually, they have a strict rule against selecting their prey from the employees of the restaurant or bar they were scouting out, however, the second Bradley saw you, he knew you were the one, yet he could never have guessed you were even more than you seemed or that such a fiery, determined vixen lay hiding behind that stunning face. 

He licks his lips, tasting the blood still slowly dripping from his nose, and he smiles. You had made him bleed—something only a handful of prey had managed before—and he can’t wait to repay the favor.

Three minutes to go.

Jake has wandered over to the back of the truck and laid out his vast collection of knives on the tailgate as he tries to decide which ones to carry with him on the hunt. To Bradley, they all look the same, but he had made the mistake on more than one occasion of asking Jake the difference between them. Even after several forty-five-minute lectures on tip points, serrations, length, grips, guards, and fuck knows what else, Bradley still didn’t really understand the difference, nor did he care. The only weapon he liked to use was his hands. He needed to physically feel bones breaking beneath him, blood bubbling through his fingers and staining his nails, that last fragile flutter of a pulse before it stilled forever, and he couldn’t get any of that using a gun or a knife–or in Jake’s case–a rope.

That is yet another of Jake’s quirks that Bradley just can’t understand. Why anyone would want to step back and watch their prey take their last breath from afar just baffles him. There is nothing in the world that compares to the high he gets hovering just over his prey and inhaling their last breath into his own lungs—

Oh god, he is so turned on right now. 

Bradley takes a few long, slow, deep breaths of the frigid night air as he tries to calm the fire racing through his veins. This lust-filled adrenaline rush can be helpful during the hunt in small doses, but currently, the speed at which all the blood is rushing from his head is leaving him woozy and he needs to be clear-headed for what comes next. Otherwise, he’ll get sloppy and Jake’ll find you before he does and he can’t let that happen. Not this time. Not with you. 

It has been a long time, possibly even years since he has wanted a prey this badly and he plans on doing whatever it takes to ensure that his is the last face you will ever see. Even if that means bending the rules of the game and stealing you away from Jake. But the way Bradley sees it, Jake already got a taste of you back in the bar, so now it's his turn.

It had taken everything in him not to leap out of his seat and tear Jake off you as he was forced to watch his best friend shove his tongue down your throat. And what made it worse was how much you had seemed to enjoy it. Bradley had to grip the edge of the bar until his knuckles turned bone white as you slid Jake’s hand up from your hip to rest on your breast. He nearly missed his chance to spike your drink because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. But he remembered at the last minute and everything else had gone according to plan. 

Two minutes thirty-six seconds to go.

It’s amazing to think how far he and Jake had come since the first time they did this, back when it was an accident. 

It had been their senior year in college and they decided to go camping for the long Veteran's Day weekend to try and relieve some of the stress they were under. Jake was being scouted for several professional football teams and since the playoff game was coming up soon, his coach had been riding him extra hard lately. Bradley had just had yet another fight with his godfather about his plans for his future and he was so tired of feeling like he had no control over his life anymore. So a weekend away from it all with nothing but each other and the forest around them seemed like the perfect escape for both of them. 

All in all, it would have been a pretty forgettable weekend had a pretty young hiker not stumbled onto their campsite on their second night. Bradley and Jake managed to coax her into staying for a drink or two and one thing led to another—but then Jake took things too far and the girl fled into the woods. 

They knew if she made it back to town and reported what happened, Jake would be expelled–if not arrested–due to some past…questionable conduct that had only been overlooked at school because he was a national champion quarterback on his way to a professional career. But an official police arrest wouldn’t be swept under the rug as easily as a campus complaint, so they went after her to try to convince her not to say anything. 

The next thing Bradley remembered was kneeling over her body, his hands still around her throat as she stared up at him with wide, unseeing eyes. Jake was huddled beneath a nearby tree, vomit puddled beside him as he rocked back and forth, his eyes locked on the motionless girl. He might have been horrified at first, but Bradley….Bradley had never felt more alive. What's more, once they found a way to hide the body and it became clear no one would ever discover what they had done, that feeling only grew. And Bradley needed more.

It took a lot of convincing to get Jake on board, but once he had a taste of it himself, he too began to crave the thrill of the hunt, the rush of the kill, and it soon became somewhat of an obsession for the pair. A few weeks before graduation, Jake announced he was retiring from football and Bradley told his godfather he was done letting him make decisions about his life and blocked his number. 

As soon as school was over, they both found work that allotted them flexibility in their schedules and frequent time off so they could make their hunts a monthly event. Whatever they did didn’t matter; it was all just to serve the next hunt, the next kill. That was all that mattered to them anymore. And soon, the pair figured out the one thing that could make it even better: turning it into a competition. 

Over the next decade, they perfected their game. Trial and error taught them the best places to start their hunts, how to select their prey, how to transport them, how to dispose of the bodies once they were done. After a few years on their own, they had found others who shared in their bloodlust and the game had expanded. Now they had a network of seven or so people who would come in and out of the games based on availability, though a single game would never consist of more than four hunters. They couldn’t risk the attention bigger groups might attract. Each hunter brought different skills, different tactics, and different assets to the dynamic, and it was a great way to keep the games fresh and interesting over the years.

But tonight, it is just Bradley and Jake and their little fox hiding in the woods waiting for them to take chase.

One-minute fifty-two seconds.

Bored of just staring into the darkness of the trees waiting for the time to expire, Bradley slowly saunters over to the truck. Jake glances over as he approaches but never stops shifting through the knives. 

As he picks up one about the length of his forearm to examine it, he says, “Looks like your nose finally quit bleeding.”

“Yeah, but it still hurts like a motherfucker. I can’t wait to get my hands on that bitch and show her what real pain feels like.” Bradley grins, but then shakes his head as he starts getting lightheaded once more.

Jake chuckles as he puts down his knife to pick up another one twice its size. “Yeah, good luck with that. You’ll have to find her before I do, and I have a good feeling about tonight.” He chuckles, “I mean, my odds of winning have already increased from 25% to 50% with just one phone call.”

“And so have mine,” Bradley reminds him, then sighs. “I wish they would have called sooner and we could have postponed until the road cleared up. It’s weird they waited until we were supposed to start to let us know. Some of the others, maybe, but it’s not like them.”

Jake shrugs, "Apparently they had been trying to call for a while. Honestly, I'm surprised it made it through it all. The signal out here is shit." He pulls out his phone and quickly flashes it so Bradley can see the large warning signal with the words “No Service” below it on the screen before he returns it to his jacket pocket. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love getting to go head-to-head with you again, but it’s kind of a shame it’s just gonna be us tonight. I really wanted to see how they dealt with the snow.”

Bradley scoffs as he checks his watch. “Probably a lot better than you, Texas boy.”

Jake throws down the knife he is holding, the metal clattering loudly as it crashes against the rest of his blades, and he turns to face a startled Bradley. “Make up your mind, man. Earlier you were yelling at me for not thinking it snowed in Texas—which obviously I know, I just meant it’s still warm there this time of year. And now you are ragging on me for not being able to handle the snow because I’m from Texas. You can’t have it both ways!”

“Woah, chill out, Jake,” Bradley says, holding up his hands. “I was only messing with you.”

Jake sighs and scrubs his hand over his face before grumbling, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I’m just so keyed up to go, I’m a little on edge.”

“Yeah, I get it. So am I.” Bradley chuckles and glances at his watch once again. “But only fifty-seven seconds to go.”

“Can’t we just…you know.” Jake jerks his head in the direction you had fled. “It’s not like we left her her watch so she knows how much time has passed.”

“You know we don’t do that. We have our rules for a reason. And besides,” Bradley laces his fingers together and stretches, cracking his knuckles, “that would take away some of the fun. We want her to get far enough away there is some skill in tracking her down. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“The point is, I want to have some fun with her. God, I can still taste her lip gloss and feel her sucking on my tongue. Once I find her, I’ll give her something else to suck on.” The knife in Jake’s hand begins to twirl as his eyes glaze over. “I can’t wait to stick one of these in her and listen to all the pretty noises she makes. I wonder how many times it’ll take to make her cry.”

Bradley physically bit his tongue to stop from growling at Jake that you were his. Just listening to him daydreaming about winning is making a different kind of fire course through his veins, this one possessive and dark. But he silently reminds himself that Jake has a tendency of getting carried away and overly cocky as he drags out his teasing with his knives which, more often than not, allows his prey to slip from his fingers. Bradley had stolen quite a few wins from him this way by just waiting and watching, and he has a feeling that might be the case this time too if Jake somehow reaches you first. 

And maybe that will be the best outcome. While finding you first guarantees you will be his, Bradley can’t help but think how much more delicious it would be to find you cut up and bleeding, thinking you have escaped one horrible fate just to fall into his deadly embrace. That look of fear and anguish when you realize something far worse than Jake has found you. The knowledge that he won’t let you slip away. The way the fire will dim in your eyes as you realize there is no escape and he is about to—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Twin grins of excitement spread across Bradley’s and Jake’s faces as the alarm on Bradley’s watch goes off. It’s showtime.

Scooping up his rejected knives, Jake quickly tosses them into the backseat of the truck while Bradley slams the tailgate shut. After one final glance to the front to make sure they aren’t forgetting anything, Jake shuts the door to the truck and locks it before sliding the keys into his jacket pocket next to his phone. Another thing they had learned from experience was to never leave the keys with the vehicle—that had almost been a disaster. 

With everything ready, Jake walks over to Bradley and warmly clasps his hand. Giving it a tight squeeze, he smiles. “Ready?”

Bradley squeezes his hand back. “Ready. May the best hunter win.”

“I plan to,” Jake winks at his friend and releases his hand. Walking over to the spot where you had disappeared minutes ago, he bounces lightly on his feet a few times, shaking out his limbs as he does so. With one final grin in Bradley’s direction, he calls into the darkness, “You better run. Hangman’s coming.” And in a flash, he disappears into the trees.

Bradley rolls his eyes and calmly walks over to the edge of the clearing. Jake had charged out following the trail of footprints you had left behind, but Bradley decides to wait. That idea of finding you only after Jake has already had a little fun with you is too tantalizing to pass up, so he’s going to hang back and let Jake think he has won, only to swoop in and steal the prize at the last minute. 

After about another ten minutes, Bradley calmly steps into the darkness and begins following Jake’s trail. He can’t wait anymore, and if Jake hasn’t found you by now, then screw it. He’ll just have to settle for being the first one to reach you. He’s not worried about you getting too far away or somehow finding help, not while you are still barefoot and affected by the remains of the drugs in your system. However, Jake’s concerns about you succumbing to the elements is more of a possibility than Bradley wanted to admit earlier. The only thing worse than Jake killing you is the cold killing you, and Bradley can’t let that be the way your story ends.

Suddenly, Bradley hears a loud whoop of joy in the distance to his left. Jake found you. For someone who dubbed him “Rooster” because of his crooning over his prizes, Jake sure liked to announce his finds just as loudly.

Tearing off in the direction of the shout, Bradley ducks and weaves around trees and branches as he tries to locate the two of you. This forest is huge and only having one brief cry to navigate by isn’t easy.

After a while, Bradley thinks he sees something up ahead. At first, it is nearly impossible to identify, just a swaying shape up in one of the trees. However, as he gets a little closer, his heart freezes in his chest and all that fire rushing through his veins is instantly extinguished. Jake hadn’t screwed up this time, and Bradley took too long to find you.

The darkness still shrouds the majority of the hanging shape, but the orange jacket wrapped around it is unmistakable against the trees and snow. 

Part 4 coming soon....and the real fun begins 😈

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[kairukitsuneo]

Time to let go of the past, Maverick

[missathlete31]

Dead on Your Feet Chapter 12- Sneak Peak

It's no secret that I haven't been able to write anything new in months. My mind keeps coming up with ideas but then I try to execute them and it's just painful to reread. I've gotten more inspired lately, especially thanks to some of the amazing people on here who have been so encouraging (looking at you @seresimp!!!!) and I broke through some mental barriers to produce this first part of Chapter 12. Hoping for some feedback to fuel me through!! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story for your patience! I hope this sounds a little like the writer I used to be.

Masterlist for anyone that needs to refresh their memories because it's been like six months since I last posted

The ascent towards the helicopter is meant to be the end of this whole nightmare for Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. His pilots have been found, have already risen to the sanctity of the bird hovering in the sky and now it is only left to him to be pulled to safety before they can all head home. Pete leaves the cold ocean waves ready to feel victorious, to feel as though he finally has succeeded and achieved the final miracle of the day, getting everyone home alive.

But once more he is struck down.

The second Maverick hauls himself into the rescue helicopter, all he recognizes is chaos. Gone is the hushed silence from outside, replaced with the panic-stricken energy of multiple bodies crammed into a tight space and fighting for purchase. Pete’s eyes naturally train on Rooster first, his gaze widening as he sees a young man pulling his Lieutenant back with a harsh grip. Mav moves to intervene, to scream over the hysterical bellowing issuing from Bradshaw’s mouth, and ask what the hell is going on, but before he can Pete gets a clear view of Jake Seresin on the floor of the aircraft, spread eagle and unmoving, as a middle aged Hispanic man pounds heavily on the blonde’s sternum.

Maverick knows logically that the man above Seresin is some sort of doctor, he can tell just from the uniform alone. However doctor or not, the sight of this man pumping harshly on Jake’s chest makes the older pilot need to look away in fear he might intercede. A protectiveness rises within Pete, unwavering in its ferocity at the unnatural sight before him; a bruised and bloody Hangman being pounded into the floor as a means of saving his life.

Because Seresin isn’t breathing.

The grimace from the rescue diver makes a lot more sense now.

Bradley's screams still ring out in the air around them, each one more and more blood curdling. He is being restrained by someone similar in size to the 6 foot Bradshaw and yet Rooster continues to hurl his exhausted and water logged body towards his wingman relentlessly. He roars over all the other noise around them, his temper on full display. It's been over a decade since Maverick has seen it in all its fury but he remembers how the younger Bradshaw can wield his anger like the deadliest sword. His visceral emotions striking like perfect daggers each and every time. Pete knows he needs to control it, to distract Rooster so that the man holding him back can get the rescue swimmer back up and they can make their way back to the ship, but the older pilot is shocked still; his senses all but burnt out at the overwhelming assault of the environment around him.

"Captain" a voice snaps, and Pete turns to see the doctor, the name Sosa stitched onto his chest, still pumping furiously. Maverick can make out the beginnings of a bruise reddening the other man's cheek, no doubt caused from a blow to the face by Bradley's fist before the aviator was properly subdued. "Captain" the man speaks up again, "I need you to control your pilot."

"I-" Maverick gapes helplessly, as though he is being asked to do the impossible; and maybe he is. There might have been a time when he could calm Bradley Bradshaw down with a quick word or a tight hug, when he would snuggle with the little boy who was scared of thunder, or lecture the kid who rode his bike too far down the street. That kid doesn't exist anymore, or perhaps the Maverick that could do all those things is really the one who's gone; either way Pete Mitchell is as helpless to the lashes of Bradley Bradshaw's ire as anyone else.

"Captain" the tone is desperate, exhausted, as still Doctor Sosa thrusts his hands powerfully down on Hangman's chest cavity in an effort to bring life back into the kid's heart. "We need to get that diver up now” he explains, “this Lieutenant needs more help than I can give in this bird, we have to get back to the ship. Now please-" a firmness laces his words, a command coming from a man who knows how this story is going to end unless something changes soon, "control your man."