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thebirdandthebee · 2 years

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Act Accordingly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll hold you to that,” he insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And God, you were really good at volleyball.

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

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

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

“She’s single, right?” Phoenix asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop looking!” He said, frustrated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds right,” Bradley nodded.

“And how long have you –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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cannibalhellhound · 4 months

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Wings AU character bits

Hi this is me trying to get a grip on writing again and getting the characters while also adding the wing bits.

Ice Harpy Eagle

Likes having long nails (harpy eagles have fuckin huge talons), keeps them shaped and neatly painted if he's in the mood when on leave

Likes to keep his nest cool and clean (comfy but practical)

Tall nesting! He always claims the top bunk!

His childhood bedroom had one of those tall beds with a desk under them because he kept piling stuff up to sleep atop of them and it could fit multiple people

Sad because Navy bunk beds are small :(

Strong as fuck (he's smaller than Sli but can bench press almost as much) (harpy eagles grab animals as big as them like sloths and carry them) (can carry others while flying if needed just not for lengthy flights)

Very keen eyesight so sunglasses for light sensitivity (maybe reading glasses for near sight focus? I like him with glasses)

Very good hearing (don't shit talk near him he'll definitely hear it)

Hair moves very slightly, similar to feathers (kinda like their facial disk and feather crest)

*Baby feathers are almost all white with some light gray. They molt usually once a year (sometimes twice) and it takes 5 years to get the adult coloring

Ice's stayed in a middle coloring and he got insecure. His mom suggested matching his hair and that's how the frosted tips came to exist :D

He's a provider by nature but his little sisters have made him very nurturing and affectionate too (Slider knows this firsthand and thinks it's hilarious how fussy Ice can get)(the others learn with time but first baby goose)

Leaves feathers around the house (perfectly placed thank you very much)

Slider Bearded Vulture

Lämmergeier means “Lamb vulture” (wrong because they don't prey on sheep but shhhhh). Slider calls Maverick “Little lamb” as a joke because he loves annoying him and wants to eat him up

CAN ACTUALLY EAT BONES!!! (Bone soup is a thing!) Will chew on them till it's painful to watch and will take anyone's bones off their plates to pick the marrow off them

The bone dropping shows a lot in him just throwing stuff. He does it. A LOT.

He also likes to have a tennis ball around to fidget dropping it and catching it when it bounces

Has an actual nest bed. The mattress is on the harder side but it has a shit ton of blankets and pillows (to the point you can't feel the mattress)

There are old feathers around the nest tucked in between pillows (don't tell Ice!!) ⁠(⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠)

Very involved into the life of the ones he loves (helpful, affectionate, etc) (this includes parenting looks at baby goose)

His feathers only dye red when visiting his family or on vacation with family because they frequent iron rich waters (his mom loves her red feathers and looking at her baby look like her makes her teary eyed)

Maverick Peregrine Falcon

Very lightweight!!!

He's beauty, he's grace, he'll dive down and kick you in the face (literally, peregrine falcons kill prey by punching them with their closed talons when dividing)

Very keen reflexes (both at ground and on air), will grab anything you throw at him even if distracted

Very! Good! At courting!!!! (Looking at the beginning bar scene)

Small but comfy nest. Very soft and also bunk bed! is perfect

Has a favorite blanket that he will ALWAYS take everywhere, even on deployment

Cracking his head fuckin open more than once as a kid because he's a menace and small and tried to dive from places he climbed (not his best idea)

crying because he's so small he can't carry goose after the accident and can just grab at him until they get rescued

Now this would be for trans! Mav

To everyone's surprise Mav is as big as he can get (Female birds of prey are bigger than males= bigger wingspan, human height is genetic so for avians is a bit mixed)

Wings don't allow binding (for obvious reasons) but kinesiology tape exists!

He already used KTape before joining the navy and top surgery so he's used to just strutting around shirtless (we stan a short confident king! It's honestly so freeing to tape and be shirtless I might just leave him pre surgery for next fanart pieces)

Goose Emden Goose

Literally a Mother Goose™

Has learned to deal with Maverick and not only does he not get surprised by his antics, he can predict them and is already prepared for them (aka get ready to scoop tiny ass Mav if he gets in trouble or hurts himself)

The good part is that it has made him baby proof. He can deal with a child he's been dealing with Mav!

Terrified. Absolutely terrified. Because his beautiful baby gosling is as much a little shit as his wife and best friend. If his wings weren't already white they'd for sure be by now ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

I need to think more about Mav and Goose but that involves looking for Peregrine Falcon and Geese facts

Edit to take out the divider because I don't like it

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lcahwriter · 2 years

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Running (Part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

TW: Anxiety, past abuse, stalking, mentions of sex but no actual smut.

Summary: You ran across the country to the place you knew you’d be the safest- with Maverick on a Navy base somewhere in California. Your plan was to lay low until the coast was clear - but then you met Bradley Bradshaw.

Will you be able to escape the man who was determined to find you? Will you be able to keep Bradley safe? To fall in love again?

COMPLETED SERIES! Masterlist <—

Authors note: Holy shit, this has been a fun one to write. Please enjoy!

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It was 4pm on a Tuesday, the slowest day of the week at the Hard Deck. You mundanely polished the shot glasses that sat on the bar counter. Despite slow days being your least favorite – you were still thrilled to be working and not stuck alone at Mavericks house.

The Hard Deck and the navy base were the only places Mav allowed you to go to alone. Well- allowed was a harsh word. It was more of an agreement between the two of you. You knew it wasn’t safe to be alone right now, as much as you longed for the freedom. It had been 4 months since you moved in with Mav. He was like family to you- and when shit hit the fan you knew he was the right person to seek refuge in.

“Scrub those anymore and they might just disappear.”

You grinned and looked up from the shot glass. It was Bradley, a customer now turned… somewhat of a friend who was very easy on the eyes. He was wearing his usual outfit of perfectly fitting jeans and a Hawaiian shirt that complemented his sun kissed skin. You’d only seen him in his navy uniform once- he said he hated the attention it brought. You wanted to tell him he still got the attention of everyone in the room without it – but you figured he’d been flattered enough in his lifetime.

Bradley introduced himself 3 months ago on the night of your first shift. He had tried to ask you out a few times now, but you had so far successfully denied all his advances. It’s not that you weren’t attracted to him, because holy shit you definitely were. It was because you knew that if he really knew why you were here. He would want nothing to do with you.

“Another dad joke to start the evening with?” you teased him and set down the glass. You found it hard to know where to look at him since his black aviators covered his eyes. You settled on his lips- which was a big mistake. He noticed where you were staring by the looks of the tiny smirk appearing on his face.

“I was just stopping by to see how my favorite bar tender is doing.” Bradley’s voice was flirty as he leaned up against the bar and took a seat. You couldn’t help but keep grinning. He was a big flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention. As well as the company. Finding friends, the last four months was basically impossible.

“I’m doing just dandy Bradshaw.” You said whilst filling up a glass with his favorite beer. “Same as usual.”

Bradley scoffed.

“Not giving up much information. Same as usual” he mocked back at me. You rolled your eyes and slid the beer over the counter to him. Bradley had started to ask more questions the last few weeks. All questions that you really couldn’t answer.

“Why are you living with Mav?”

“What brought you to California”

“What did you do before bartending?”

“What’s your family like?”

“Okay fine, I am happy to report I went to the movies today.” You said confidently. Hoping that this bit of personal information would satisfy him. He looked at you through squinted eyes.

“You went to a movie today? Like before work?” He questioned. There was amusement behind his eyes. You crossed your arms.

“Yes, at the theatre on base. So what? There’s nothing wrong with a good movie before work.” Bradley let out a giggle and you shot him daggers with your eyes.

“Well, I would say most people go to the movies at night and on a weekend - definitely not at senior discount hour on a Tuesday” He grinned widely.

“Unbelievable – I finally tell you something about my day and you make fun of me for it.” You still hadn’t uncrossed your arms, but your lips were curving into a small smile.

“I think its adorable.” He says, taking a sip of his beer while beaming at you. You tried to hide your blush by looking down.

You gripped the edge of the counter when the flattery you felt turned into a deep, lulling fear in your chest. The man who was after you used to take you home and beat you if a man like Bradley complimented you at a bar.

You swallowed and tried to shake off the fear. You knew you were safe here. Maverick knew you were safe here too. The Hard Deck wasn’t a military base, but it might as well be. The place was always crawling with military men and women. No one would be able to hurt you here. Not without a fight anyway.

“You okay?”

You shook yourself out of the trance you were in when you heard Bradshaw’s voice.

“Fuck, yeah I’m sorry.” You said, rubbing your hand through your hair quickly. “Just zoned out” You said, trying to convince him you were alright.

“If the flirting is crossing the line…” He began to say but you cut him off.

“No!” You might have said that a little too quickly. “I mean. No, I like us flirting. I just- my head was somewhere else just then.” You reached over the counter and cupped your hand over his for a moment before taking it away. He looked shocked at the gesture. You honestly were surprised at yourself too.

It was the first time you’d ever touched him. He was so warm and rough- but somehow still so gentle. You were trying your god damn hardest to ignore the tingles in your hand.

A group of 6 or 7 people walked up to the bar and you thanked GOD that you somehow had an excuse to walk away from the awkward as shit conversation you were having. You flashed Bradley a smile before turning around quickly to attend to the rowdy group of customers.

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You burst into the small kitchen making a B-line for the fridge. You didn’t even bother to acknowledge Mav’s presence at the kitchen table. All you could think about was water. You filled up a glass of cold water before hastily bringing it to your lips.

You looked over your glass to see Maverick looking at you questionably.

“Try to run a mile again?” he asked.

“Two miles for your information” you retorted before filling up the empty glass once more. Your body was aching, and sweat was dripping from your forehead.

“Why do people run? Dear god its torture I swear.” You sat down at the table across from Maverick, finally feeling yourself calm down from an embarrassingly short run.

“Your therapist said it would be good for you right?”

A pang of shame popped into your chest. You nodded anyways.

“Something about helping with the anxiety.” You murmured, avoiding eye contact.

Mav was the closest thing you had to a father. Yours jumped ship as soon as you were born. But you always remember Mav being there. Between deployments and military orders, he would come by and take you and your mom out for ice cream- or to the movies. You were pretty sure your mom was in love with him at one point. But she still won’t admit that.

You missed her. But staying with her wasn’t an option. Not until this was all over. You were safest at a secured area.

“Have you heard from John?” you questioned hopefully.

John had been working with you and Maverick since you arrived in California. He was supposed to be the best private investigator around. You fucking hoped he was anyways, because neither you or Maverick could afford to pay him much longer.

“He texted me an update last night.” Mav sat back in his seat and ran his hands through his thick brown hair.

“He told me he’s still trying to recover the deleted pictures from your phone and home security cameras. He has tabs on Tim in Colorado. He is laying low there for God knows what.” Mavs jaw was clenched for a split second. You hardly ever saw him angry, but when Tim was brought up, he immediately soured – as did you. “Said once he recovers the files it will be enough evidence the Feds will have no choice but to move in on him.”

You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. You had to involve the feds because Tim was a lead investigator at the police department in Virginia. You had tried to report him locally before- but somehow Tim would find out and nearly kill you. He had convinced everyone you were a “crazy” girlfriend. It was a hopeless situation. Until you finally ran.

“Still can’t believe an audio recording of him threatening to kill me isn’t enough.” You said sarcastically and stood up.

Mav shook his head and looked at you with sympathetic eyes. You had discussed this at length before. There was nothing either of you could do besides keep you safe and wait for John to gather evidence.

“You working at the bar tonight?” He asks. You nod.

“Yup. I better get in the shower. I’ve gotta be there by 3”

“Call me if you need me kid” He yells as you walk up the stairs of the tiny base housing.

“Always!” you shout back with a small smile on your face. You tried to ignore the aching in your chest from the conversation about Tim. Working at the Hard Deck tonight would be a good distraction from reality. Plus, you made more money there than you ever did as a Kindergarten teacher.

Your room at Mav’s place was small, but it was safe and that’s all you really cared about. You got ready for work, trying your hardest to convince yourself you weren’t wearing jeans that made your butt look good for any reason other than that they were comfortable. The tight red tank top that showed a lot more boob than you usually put on display- well that was definitely for Bradley Bradshaw. There was no denying that.

You knew you would never let him really know you- and you were pretty sure he knew that too. You were just a tease- someone he could never have. Someone nobody could have – at least not for a long time. Bradshaw was interested because he didn’t know you – once he found out you were running from a Psycho ex- he’d run like hell the other way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was Saturday night so naturally; the bar was packed. Penny was working with you tonight, which helped relieve some of the anxiety you felt about the lines of people waiting for drinks. You had only been able to talk to Bradley for a few minutes before being swept away in craziness that was Saturday night at the Hard Deck.

“Hey sweetcheeks, can I get a beer?” You looked up to see Jake, or Hangman as he had so kindly informed you many, many, many times.

“Sure thing” You went to grab the 10$ bill in his hand but he snatched it out of your reach. You let out an annoyed huff.

“Give me a kiss first.” He taunted, leaning his cheek towards you as if you would actually kiss him. You would literally rather run a marathon. Which is saying A LOT. Even if it was just on the cheek.

You took advantage of his eyes being shut and ripped the 10$ bill out of his hand.

“Never in a million years” You glared at him. Jake groaned at his failed attempt in flirting. You wanted to punch him in the face more times than you could count. But his flirting was pretty much harmless, besides the constant mental undressing of you every time you were in his vicinity.

You looked over at Bradley who was glaring at Hangman from across the bar. He looked like he was about murder him. His hand was wrapped around his beer with a death grip. You sighed and decided going over to talk to Bradley was way more fun than getting Jakes beer in a timely manner. Bradley noticed you walking towards him – he sat up and his body visibly let go of the tension it was holding.

“Hey” you said stupidly. He let a small grin come onto his face. A much more refreshing look than the death glare he had seconds ago.

“Hey” he says back softly. You sigh and grab his glass before refilling it on the beer tap beside you. Bradley’s eyes poured into yours. They were so beautiful and warm. You scanned the rest of his face. It was a masterpiece really. And fuck, he looked so good in the plain white t-shirt he was wearing. You tried not to stare at his muscles- but you just couldn’t help yourself.

A loud shout and crash startled you out of your trance. Your body went ridged at the sound of glass shattering on the floor. You turned to see that the freshly washed glasses stacked on the corner of the bar had been knocked over by someone.

The shattering still rang through your ears loudly. Your heart rate started to pick up and you could hear your blood pumping in every single part of your body. Your head was pulsing – your heart was beating out of your chest. You tried to breath but instead you choked on air. You knew you were in the bar- but your brain thought you were back with him, trapped.

The pain was like no other pain you’d felt. Glass was all around you – you were covered in it. You looked down to see the clear shards turning a deep red. You could smell your own blood coming from all around you. You tried to get up from the glass but he was holding you there, letting you die –

“Y/N!” An arm shook your shoulder roughly. You looked up to see Penny with concern written all over her face. You started to breath faster. You looked past her to the glass on the floor, causing you to wince. Penny looked back at the glass and then back to you.

“What’s going on?” She asked gently, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You backed away from her touch. You were somehow still standing, even with the panic rising in your chest. You looked to your right to see Bradley. Who looked like he was about to vault over the counter to get to you.

“Y/N…” he said with worry thick in his tone.

“I have to go.” You quickly said before dashing out of the bar towards the back door. You didn’t look back. You barely made it through the back door before vomiting in a bush to the left of the building. The anxiety was causing your stomach to wrench up all its contents. You couldn’t stop thinking about that night. The glass – the blood.

You sucked in air too quickly, time and time again despite your greatest efforts to calm your breathing. You slid down the cold wall of the building and tucked your knees to your chest.

You heard the back door open, causing you to flinch. Your eyes were so blurry from your tears you couldn’t make out who was there. You started to slide your body away from the figure.

“It’s Bradley.”

That made you stop. His voice was so gentle. So kind. You let out a loud sob between gasps for air. You could be embarrassed about it later.

“Stay away from me” You warn, as he walks towards you. He doesn’t listen and keeps walking. You wanted him to stay away – to go away. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He reached out his hand but you backed away harshly.

“Don’t touch me.” You said, shoving yourself against the wall in effort to escape him. He jerks back as if he had been burned by your words.

“Okay, I won’t touch you.” He said calmly.

He slid down the same wall you were against – but about 5 feet away. You breathed heavily.

“Please leave” you said, tears running down your face into your knees tucked under your chin.

This was so fucking embarrassing. You thought. You just wanted to disappear. How the hell were you supposed to come up with an excuse for freaking out over broken glass?

“I can’t leave you out here alone.” He says. You look up to see him staring at the night sky.

You shuddered at the thought of what could happen if you were alone. If he found you somehow. He would kill you.

Your thoughts got your body shaking again. Bradley noticed.

“What did you have for lunch today?” he asked. You popped your head from your knees to glance at him. He smiled softly when your eyes met him.

“Chicken nuggets” you replied, a shaky laugh left your lips. Bradley laughed loudly. “And you?” You ask weakly. You could already feel your breathing starting to slow with his silly distraction.

“Ramen noodles” he said with a sheepish look on his face. You laughed and then hiccupped immediately after. You lifted your head from your knees completely and let the back of your head lay against the cold wall. You were shaking from the fear, but it was slowly fading.

You sat in silence looking at the sky above you for at least 10 minutes before you felt the confidence to speak.

“Thank you” you say to Bradley, who was already looking over at you. His brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

“Anytime.” Is all he says, before looking back at the stars. You stared at him like he was art. Because he was, you couldn’t deny it.

“You have experience with panic attacks?” You ask. He perks up at your question.

“What makes you think that?” He avoided the question.

“You knew to distract me. And to give me space.” You say, inching closer to him by sliding on the concrete. He avoided eye contact with you but nodded.

“I get them sometimes. Not so much anymore though.” He swallowed hard and you could tell he was uncomfortable talking about it. You reached out and grabbed his hand gently.

You knew you would regret it later. But in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to intertwine your fingers with his to somehow comfort both you and him at the same time. His large fingers wrapped around your hand. His thumb rubbed circles slowly on your hand, making goosebumps fly up your arms.

“You’re running from something” Bradley says quietly. You stiffen immediately but he keeps rubbing circles around your hand.

“What makes you think that?” You croak. You felt tears well in your eyes, but you bit your lip hard enough to make it bleed in attempt to stop them.

“You won’t talk about why you’re here. Or why you’re living with Mav.” He explains gently. “You’re always looking over your shoulder like someone might be there”

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath. Fresh tears rolled down your face. Bradley kept rubbing slow and soft circles around your fingers. You hated that he elicited this kind of response from you. A feeling of trust and safety that had to be something you just imagined in your head.

You didn’t want to give away any information. The fact that you were sitting here alone, holding his hand was bad enough. To feel safe with a man like Bradley gave you goosebumps. It made you think of an array of dirty thoughts that you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

Everything in you wanted to break the rules you set for yourself and pour your heart out to him. But you stopped yourself before you could.

“I need to go home. Will you tell Penny that I had to leave early?” You stood up and shakily wiped the back of your pants off. You tried to ignore how cold your hand felt now that it wasn’t enveloped under his.

“I’ll drive you home.” Bradley said sternly. He stood up next to you, towering over you. Good god you never noticed how big he was compared to you.

“I can drive myself.” You insisted while trying your hardest to avoid looking him in the eyes.

“Please- just – just let me drive you home so I don’t worry about you.” He paused for a moment “and I think Mav would kill me if he found out I let you drive home after tonight.”

Well, he was right about that one. You could try to hide what happened tonight when you got home hours earlier than expected. But you knew Maverick would eventually hear something about what happened from Penny.

“Fine”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * *

His car was nice, new and clean. It smelt like him. You scowled when you realized even his god damn car brought you comfort.

You looked over at the masterpiece driving beside you. His golden tan skin drew your eyes in. His arms and hands flexed whilst he drove, and you swear to god he was doing that shit on purpose. The scars on the side of his neck and face showed through the passing headlights. You found them beautiful.

You had scars too- but they made you want to vomit. You hid them away under your clothes and long hair. You even avoided looking in the mirror before showering. It was too much to see what he had done to you.

You clenched your jaw at the thought of that night again. You hated that your brain couldn’t let the trauma go. No matter how hard you wanted to forget it.

Bradley noticed you tense up, because of course he did.

Fuck.

He broke the heavy silence, just as you expected.

“Tell me what you’re running from. I can help you.” He looked over at you, and then back at the road. He looked determined.

You shifted in your seat and tugged at the fabric on your pant leg nervously. That wasn’t what you expected him to say.

“I don’t want you to get involved.” And that was the honest truth.

“Are you running because you did something illegal?” He asked, full seriousness in his voice. You snorted out a laugh.

“No. I promise I’m not a fugitive or anything” you joked, but Bradley remained serious.

“Well, then I want to be involved. Whatever it is.”

You gulped and thought about his offer. You didn’t need help escaping from Tim. You were already in the safest place you could be. But he could help you in other ways. Comfort. Companionship. Laughter. Pleasure … you clenched your thighs together instinctively. It had been years since you felt any kind of pleasure from a man.

You knew crossing that line with him would be a mistake- But God, when you looked at Bradley- you wanted to break all the god damn rules.

“You can’t help me.” You said looking out the window into the night sky. “Plus, you don’t even know me. Helping me makes no sense.” Your heart panged with sadness. Him not knowing you was the only excuse you could think of to push him away.

“I want to know you.” He said softly.

“And don’t act like I don’t know anything about you.” He mused, taking a glance at you with playful eyes. “I know your favorite beer AND that you like going to see movies with old people on Tuesdays”

You laughed and couldn’t help but smile. You shook your head and stared at him.

“Fuck.” is all you said before letting your head hit the back of the seat.

“What was that?” He asked, eyebrows raised. You stayed silent thinking about whether you should break all the rules or be good and ignore Bradley Bradshaw for the rest of your life.

“I said Fuck.” You repeated, sitting up a little straighter and puffing out your chest to gain your composure. Bradley pulled up to Mavs house and parked his car in the driveway. It was dark out, and with the headlights off you could only see parts of the man sitting next to you.

“Fuck, what exactly?” He wriggled his eyebrows and you punched him in the arm.

“You’re an idiot.” You said, smiling. You swallowed and enjoyed the feeling of being with him. You wanted to cherish it.

You looked into his brown eyes and got lost. You LET yourself fully let go for a moment. You scanned him from his hair to his thighs. You listened to his slow breathing, and you swore it was quiet enough to hear his heartbeat.

“I’m not running from something. I’m running from someone” you blurted out. You watched Bradley take in your words. His face went from shocked, curious, worried and angry all within a few moments. He stayed silent.

“I can’t believe I just told you that.” You said blankly. Slumping in your seat. You had expected to feel relieved. But instead, you felt anxiety. Fear of having to tell him more – things that you weren’t ready to admit.

“You can’t keep everything to yourself” he nudged. You wanted to run from him. You wanted to slam the car door in his face and destroy the stupid feelings that were bubbling in your chest.

“Mav knows everything. He’s like a father to me. That’s why I came here -I knew I’d be safe. Guarded by the navy and all that.” You joked half-heartedly.

Bradley mustered up a small smile, but you could tell he had a million questions to ask. You appreciated his patience.

“The glass tonight….” You trailed off and shook your head. Your eyes fell to your lap. Were you really telling Bradley Bradshaw this? When you thought about it you didn’t even know him. You had tried your best to avoid that. He wasn’t supposed to really mean anything to you – and you were just supposed to be a tease to him.

But here you are, sitting with him alone in his car- pouring your fucking heart out.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask, looking up at Bradley curiously. He raised an eyebrow.

“Blue. And yours?”

“Green.” You explain. “Forest green, like the redwoods up north.”

Bradley hummed in response. His hands were sitting in his lap and you couldn’t help but wish they were holding yours. But you were too much of a chicken to admit that.

“I’m sorry. I just realized I hardly know you.” You admitted, giving him a small smile. “Yet here I am, about to dump all my secrets to you.” You were joked, once again to try to ease the anxiety you felt.

“Sure you do. I mean you’ve talked to me almost every day for the last three months.”

You shrugged.

“Good point.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned towards him, flipping your legs up to sit crisscrossed. You leaned your back against the car door and sighed.

“The glass.” You said shakily. “It uh- reminded me…”

Fuck this was hard to talk about. But isn’t this what your therapist had told you to do? Not bottle up the memories when they arise? Make friends?

“He pushed me through a sliding glass door. I landed backwards all over the glass.” You couldn’t muster up the courage to look at Bradley. “He thought I would tell the paramedics about the abuse. I had to beg him to call the ambulance.” You whispered softly.

“So, when I heard the glass tonight- it just brought me back.” You felt the scars on the back of your neck and body burn. You sucked in a breath and peaked a glance at Bradley.

He was tense. He looked like he was trying to contain his emotions by clenching his fists in his lap. His jaw was clamped shut. But you also noticed sadness in his eyes, a true sadness that you weren’t expecting.

“That was 6 months ago.” You twisted your lips together and debated if you should continue spilling your guts out to the man across from you. You decided you’d take the risk.

“I managed to run away from him while he was on a work trip. I went to my mom’s house a few states away, but it was only a few days before he showed up” You felt your voice grow weak. “I was at the store when he came to the house– he threatened to hurt my mom.” The pain you felt in your chest was palpable.

“I called Mav and told him I needed to hide. Until I had enough evidence for the feds to arrest him.” You looked at Bradley. “I called him on a payphone before I came here and told him to stay away from my family – because I was going to go somewhere he would never find me.” You pushed your hair behind your ears nervously. “The last thing he said was that when he found me, he would kill me.”

Bradley’s face hardened and you could see his neck was turning red with anger.

“He won’t find you.” His voice was strong and assuring. “You’ll be safe here.”

You gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, I know.” You said lightly.

Bradley gulped and hesitantly reached for your hand. You quickly met him halfway and allowed his hand to envelope yours. The intertwined hands rested on your lap.

“Thank you for telling me.” He said, rubbing those damn circles with his thumb on your hand again.

“And I swear to god that son of a bitch will not come near you again.” His voice was dark when he spoke. You gulped.

“Yeah. I really hope so.” You looked down at your hands and flinched at the thoughts that came into your mind.

“He would kill me if he knew I was holding your hand.” You said quietly. Bradley tensed.

“He’s not going to hurt you again.” He promised, giving your hand a squeeze. “I won’t let him.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” You emphasized. “If he saw you with me. Even- even as friends – he would- he could.” Bradley interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“But he won’t. He won’t hurt me, and he won’t hurt you. Okay?” His eyes met yours and you could see how serious he was. Your heart ached.

This man, who you barley fucking knew was promising to keep you safe. Was swearing that nothing would happen to you again. It didn’t feel real. You knew that promising safety wasn’t a reality.

“You’re insane.” Is all you could think of to say back to him. He cracked a big grin- which was a relief to see over his I’m going to kill your ex- boyfriend look.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been told that.” You smirked and took in a deep breath.

Before you could speak, he did.

“Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow.”

You laughed loudly and looked at him only to see that he was dead serious.

“Oh my god, you really are an idiot.”

Bradley laughed louder than you had.

“You know that’s the second time today you’ve called me an idiot. But somehow, I’m still infatuated with you.” He was full on smiling now, and you wished he didn’t look so fucking good.

“I just told you that my psycho ex is out to KILL me.” You reiterated. When he didn’t even flinch, you continued. “AND that if he even saw you with me, he would want to KILL you too!” You exclaimed, fear once again overtaking you. Bradley sat up and leaned into your space while looking deep into your eyes.

“Let me make this clear sweetheart. I’m not scared of that bastard.” He let go of your hand and reached up to your cheek instead. Your heart was thumping.

Oh god was he going to kiss you? Fuck. You didn’t think you were ready for that.

“And if you want to go to dinner with me then you should. Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you or me.” His eyes flickered to your lips- but only for a moment. You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before retreating to his seat. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“I want to get dinner with you.” You said quietly. “But I’m still healing Bradley.” You said with shame dripping from your words. “Knowing that he’s out there looking for me scares the shit out of me.”

Bradley nodded his head in understanding.

“I won’t push you into anything you don’t want to do. Ever.” He said calmly. “I’ll go your pace. And if you decide that I’m an annoying nuisance then just tell me to get lost.”

You giggled at that and smiled at him.

“You’re really something Bradshaw.”

God he was handsome. His soft lips looked more kissable than ever. But you reframed from reaching for them.

“Take my number.” you said while pulling your phone out of your pocket. You swore you saw him sneak a glance at your chest while you did. It made you smirk.

He took your phone and typed in his number while you TRIED not to stare at how freakishly large his hands were. Not to mention how long his fingers were.

“I’ll text you when I get inside.” You said, tucking your phone away. “Since I know you were going to ask me to anyway.”

Bradley grinned.

“See! You do know me.” He said proudly.

You laughed and opened the car door. You stepped out and looked back at him.

“Thank you- for everything. For listening.” You said softly.

“Anytime.” He said just as soft as you had. “I’ll wait until I see you get inside to leave.” You nodded and went to shut the door but his voice stopped you.

“AND I’ll text you about those dinner plans tomorrow.”

You blushed and nodded before shutting the car door. You walked up to the house door and unlocked it – looking back to wave at Bradley before walking in and closing the door.

As soon as it shut you rubbed your hands over your face.

Holy shit. What have you gotten yourself into with Bradley Bradshaw?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * *

Part two coming soon if enough people are intersted <3 Comment below if you’d like to be part of tag list.

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whohasthecards · 9 months

Text

Top Gun Drabble

How Mav views Jake vs how Penny views Jake

---

Maverick flopped down on Penny’s bar with a long groan, pillowing his head in his folded arm with a sigh.

“What trouble did you get to this time, mister?” Penny asked, setting down the man’s favorite beer.

“Not me, Hangman, the kid’s a brat, it’s like karma for all the times I fuck around when I was younger,” Mav sighed, taking a long sip from his beer.

“Hangman? Jake? I’m sure he’s not that bad, Mav, he’s a sweetheart,” Penny said, rolling her eyes at the dramatic man. “Don’t compare him to you, Mav, he'd practically be an angel,” Penny said as she started drying a glass with a towel.

Mav burst out laughing, almost hysterically, as he had to put down his beer. He looked back at Penny expecting her to share his amusement, when she simply just raised an unimpressed brow at him.

A sense of dread washed over Mav.

“No, you’re, you’re serious???” Mav exclaimed, forever denying that his voice raised an octave at that.

“Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin? Tall, blond, young man, plays pool, and darts? Yes, I’m serious,” Penny said, putting her hands on her hips. “Come on, Mav, he’s a good kid.”

Mav’s jaw dropped in shock.

—

Earlier that day

“Hey, hey, pops, pops,” Hangman said, jogging to keep up with Mav who was starting his pre-flight checks.

“Yes, Hangman?”

“Do the death spiral with me,” Hangman said grinning wildly.

Mav turned to look at his student/co-instructor/subordinate, “... We’re surrounded by rookies, kid.”

Hangman shrugged, “It’ll show them what we can do.”

“It will set a bad example, they’re still arrogant little shits.”

Hangman pouted, genuinely pouted, dear god were his students getting too comfortable with him, “You and Bradshaw did it.”

“And we broke the hard deck.”

“Since when did you care about that?”

He, unfortunately, had a point. “I’m trying to prevent what’s happening right now, but to this Top Gun class.”

“But it could also be us asserting ourselves as skilled in front of the students, while simultaneously allowing us to practice a maneuver we don’t usually get to do.” Hangman said, nodding resolutely.

“And when are we using the death spiral in a real dogfight?”

“Who knows? But the death spiral isn’t just about practicality, it’s also about getting to know your jet more.”

“Still a no, kid.”

“But you and Bradshaw did it! Come on, pops, favoritism ain’t allowed!”

“No.”

For some reason, the kid managed to get him to do a spiral with him anyways. Little shit knows how to push a man.

At least the rookies were too intimidated to even think about copying them.

Hopefully.

—

“Hey pops, I got you something,” Hangman said, giving him a box with a wide grin.

“It’s not a bomb, isn't it?” Mav said tentatively, holding the box in his hands.

“Not today at least,” Hangman said, flashing a grin bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Open it,” he practically whined.

Mav rolled his eyes and sat down on his desk as he gently removed the ribbon on the box and watched as the walls of the box fell down revealing a mug.

Keep on smiling!

That was surprisingly sweet.

“Thanks, kid, a bit corny, but thank you, sweet of you,” Mav said, smiling and thumbing the cheesy font.

“Yeah, it’s for your dentures!” Jake said, smiling toothily.

What.

“Figured you should have a specific mug for it,” Jake said as he looked at his watch for the time. “Gotta go, pops, don’t forget to put it in your bathroom, I’m glad you like it,” Jake said walking towards the door, a hand held up in a wave as he rounded the corner.

Little shit.

“I don’t have dentures!” Mav shouted at the younger man’s retreating back, making the young secretary passing by jump and look at him with severe judgment.

—

"Jake! Come on, you promised to help me do my science project!" Amelia exclaimed as she thundered down the stairs to Hangman.

"Aye, aye, captain, I'm here to help, when you actually decide what your project is going to be," Jake said, crossing his arms.

"I wanna make an info sheet on how fighter jets work, you'd help me, right, Jake?" Amelia asked, pleading with her hands clasped.

"I dunno, what do I get for helpin’ ya?" Jake asked, smirking lightly as he chewed on his toothpick.

"My overwhelming gratitude and the cake mom left for both of us in the fridge?"

"All ya gotta say was the cake, you better not eat all of it while 'm not lookin', missy," Jake said jokingly wagging a finger.

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Just don't leave the cake unguarded, and you're supposed to be a military sailor."

"Naval aviator," Jake pointedly said. "You know, the aviator who flies the jets you're gonna be makin' a project on?"

“I’ll choose a jet you don’t fly,” Amelia said.

“Yeah? What jet do I not fly?”

“You could do the F-14 tomcat, that’s what I flew back in the day,” Mav interjected. “Hangman definitely doesn’t know how to fly that.”

Amelia gave Mav the stink eye, nose scrunched up, “I gotta do something more recent, Mav, that isn’t cool.”

“Yeah Mav, your jet is ancient,” Jake mocked, giving Mav a smirk.

“That ancient jet managed to shoot down 5th gens.”

“And I shot the last one just in time, with my amazing type of jet.”

“Pretty sure you bent the airframe, kid.”

“Did I?”

“Anyways,” Amelia said interjecting. “I’m not gonna do your plane Mav, you haven’t proved yourself yet.”

“Prove myself!? And Hangman did??” Mav asked in shock. “Yeah, Jake’s cool,” Amelia said, crossing her arms and nodding resolutely.

“And I’m not? I’m an aviator ace,” Mav exclaimed. He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to please his ex’s kid, but to be ranked lower than Hangman? Absolutely not. He didn't school the Dagger Squad on the first day of class for no reason.

“Old. And you broke my mom’s heart,” Amelia said, nodding resolutely before whirling around to Jake. “I changed my mind, let’s do your jet. You know so much about it, it’ll make the project easier.”

“You got it, memorized the thick ass manual, back to back,” Jake boasted.

“Yeah like any good aviator worth their salt, like me. I can help, right?” Mav said standing up.

Amelia looked Mav up and down. “I need to decorate it, and you have no taste in design. If you did, it would be 40 years outdated.” Amelia turned back towards Jake, "Can we go to the store to buy some stuff? I need my project to be great, please?"

"Yeah, let's roll, also, aren't you already getting straight As-?"

"Yeah, and I need one more," Amelia said, nodding resolutely.

"Copy that, missy, let’s go," Jake said, slinging an arm around her shoulder to lead Amelia to his truck.

"Can I drive?"

"Not right now, little miss, your mother will kill me."

"Fine. Do you think we'll have enough money to get those plastic models of the planes?"

Jake shrugged, "If you don't I can buy it for ya, always wanted to make one of those anyways. "

"Nice, you're the best Jake," Amelia said grinning wildly as she leaned towards Jake giving a one armed hug.

"I know, and the old man should know now too," Jake said, smirking back at Mav. "I'm the best in the air and on the ground."

"You little–"

"Watch the house while we're gone, pops!" Jake yelled back as he shut the door.

—-

“And that’s only some of the shit the brat does,” Mav whines at Penny before taking a shot of tequila.

Penny simply gave him an unimpressed eyebrow, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you say it is, Mav, and even if it is.” Penny shrugged before refilling Mav’s shot. “It’s karma for all the shit you did when you were his age, you should tell Viper about him.”

“That’s a great idea!” Mav said, shooting up from his seat. “Maybe Viper would school some sense into him!”

Penny simply gave him a mysterious smile, “Sure, Mav, that might happen.”

—-

“What are you talking about, Mav? Jake’s a good kid, not near as much of a hellion as you are,” Viper said.

He hid his gleeful smile behind a sip of his beer as he watched Maverick groan as if he’s in physical pain.

Karma’s a bitch.

Viper mused on whether or not he should pay the boy to make Maverick’s life hell for the duration he’s here. Maybe he will. Young men like him would take food and beer as adequate training.

And even if the boy was perfectly respectful when he met him, he had a certain cheekiness in his words, and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Reminiscent of a pilot he trained many years ago.

Plus, the bribery may protect him from the kid’s schemes.

He's too old for another kid, but maybe old enough for another grandson.

—

“Okay, I’m cutting you off, pay your tab and get out now,” Penny said, setting down the bill in front of the severely inebriated man.

“Naahhhhh, I wanna another one–” the man slurred, standing up and suddenly slammed his hands on the bar counter. “ANOTHER ONE.”

Penny crossed her arms and glared resolutely at the man, “No. Pay now.”

The man grumbled and squinted at the bill, swaying unsteadily, “T-This ain’t fucking right, it’s a goddamn joke!” The man angrily shouted leaning forward towards the bar owner. “There’s too many zeroes.”

Penny’s eye twitched and was about to make a retort when a cue stick firmly pushed the man away from the counter.

“Respect the lady, man, calm down,” A blonde man said, stepping forward, slamming the butt of the cue stick to the ground. “She said you’re done, so pay, and then leave.”

“What’s it to you!? This is between me and that bitch!” The man shouted, darting forward towards Penny.

It ended quickly.

The newcomer barely had to do anything. Or at least he made it seem so seamless. Sidestep, grab the collar, cue stick to the back of the knees, and throw the drunkard away from the counter.

The drunk fell on his ass, and stumbled forward on all fours trying to get up before stumbling back down again.

“Y-you asshole!” He slurred as he flopped down on the floor and buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Sure, buddy, I’m the asshole in this situation,” the newcomer said, rolling his eyes before resting the cue stick on his shoulder.

Newcomer turned towards Penny, giving her a small, shy, smile, unlike the confident man who just assisted her, “You doing alright, ma’am?”

“Doing good, thanks, kid, but I could have handled it myself,” Penny said, smiling warmly.

“I know,” the kid said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But if I could help, why shouldn’t I?” The kid said shrugging.

Penny gave a small laugh, “You seem new in town, what’s your name? Your tab is free today for all the trouble you just had to go through.”

“Jake Seresin, ma’am, at your service,” Seresin said, giving her a two-fingered salute.

“Penny Benjamin, welcome to my bar,” Penny said, extending a hand for him to shake.

“May I offer one suggestion ma’am?” Seresin said after a moment. Penny nodded in consent and Seresin offered her another grin. “Don’t cancel my tab, just charge it to this guy, he was an ass anyways,” Seresin said, jabbing a thumb towards the still groaning man who was acting like a dying fish on her floor.

Fish. Boats. Overboard.

“Good idea, EVERYBODY, A ROUND ON HIM!” Penny, exclaimed at the whole bar.

The bar cheers.

#fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fandom #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #pete maverick mitchell #mavdad #penny benjamin #mike metcalf #viper #maverick #Vipapa #or Vigramps #jake hangman seresin needs a hug #jake seresin fanfiction

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

Text

Chaos // Bradshaw Bradshaw

Chapter One: Toxic Tango

Summary: You thought for sure the biggest problem you were going to have to face was returning to TopGun—but then there was Bradley fucking Bradshaw.

Warnings: ex best friend, ex boyfriend. Bradley Bradshaw x reader. (Use of Y/n) steamy moment (not smut)

Word Count: 5.3k

Author Note: Okay so we’re gonna steam ahead with this one and update it in chapter form as a mini series. Also we’re gonna use Y/n because I actually can’t stick to a name I like. If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know. xx Leah.

You didn’t know what made you cringe more, the sound Pete Mitchell made when he hit the sand of the Hard Decks entrance way, or the sound he made when he stood up. Both of the drawn out groans told a tale as old as time itself—he was getting old. Not as fly on his feet as he was back in the day, he would deny it till his deathbed. But the clock never stopped ticking. Watching from your dad’s old Bronco, you turned the ignition off and wound up the windows. Stalking over to where Pete stood looking into the Hard Deck.

“So what did Penny throw you out for this time huh old man?” You chuckled softly to yourself as you stepped up beside Mav, looking over his shoulder at the commotion that had him drawn deep into memories of the past. Your own heart slipping a beat or what felt like several when you saw Bradley Bradshaw at the piano. Of. Fucking. Course. Turning your head slightly to the left, you saw the blue Bronco that held too many memories to count. “Shit.” You hissed as your voice snapped Pete out of his trance-like state. Turning to face you as he shook his head softly. Shock plastering over his face. Delighted to see you but also curious as to why he was seeing you.

“What are you doing here?” Maverick questioned as he drew you in for a hug. Welcoming the embrace you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and stood slightly on your toes. Stretching for a few extra inches. It felt like it had been years since you’d seen him, maybe it felt that way because it had been. Too many to count.

“I could ask you the same question?” You spoke warmly over Pete’s shoulder before pulling away. “Something about a highly classified mission, something you probably know about?” Nodding, Pete confirmed your suspicion. Watching as you pressed your lips together into a line, nodding softly.

“You deserve to be here though, I mean—if they asked you to come back then there’s absolutely no reason to question that.” Pete cooed, he’d watch you become an exceptional aviator, watched you grow up, become a woman, watched you love and watched you experience what he could only describe as the worst kind of heartbreak—the type of heartbreak that should never have happened at all. “You both do.” You couldn’t help but to scoff as you fixed your cap. The plain black baseball cap that adorned your head, the grey hoodie that hid any sort of figure you had, the faded blue denim jeans that were comfortable and worn in, all mixed together as the perfect casual attire to seamlessly and ever so discreetly help you slip into the background of the Hard Deck Bar. You didn’t want to be noticed, be seen. You just wanted to know who you were up against, that was all.

“Hey, you don’t have to convince me of anything—“ You held your hands up in surrender. “I’m not the one who pulled his papers, old man, that one was all you.” You weren’t shy around Pete Mitchell, he didn’t intimidate you, or scare you. He was just Mav. Did you respect him though? Absolutely. Did you love him? Most definitely, like a farther figure. “You need to work on convincing yourself you believe that before you project that energy into the universe.” You smirked, the silence that fell as Pete took the sight of you in, his eyes looking you up and down, his mind wondering how you’d been, truly, was all consuming. He wanted to say something, fuck, he was going to say something wasn’t he?

“Is this going to be a problem I should be concerned about?” You and Pete both looked back into the Hard Deck, watching as a crowd of military dressed men and what you could only see to be one woman, along with a bunch of civilians, cheered and whistled Rooster on. Stroking his already sky high ego. “Because if it is, I’d like you to be honest and open about it now.” You didn’t reply straight away, you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Bradley Bradshaw, the love of your life, your best friend, ex best friend you should say. Your ex boyfriend, too many times to count on both hands so it seemed. The on again off again bullshit you fell for each and every time still haunted you. Left you with way too many issues ranging from your ability to trust others, let people in and not the mention as a consequence of your toxic habits with Rooster—you didn’t really have the ability to play well with others.

The necklace he’d gifted you in your teenage years still hung around your rear view mirror though. The left side of a broken silver heart that had a small B.B etched into the silver. There was a small part of you that hoped, prayed even—that Rooster still has his half. The right side of a silver broken heart, a small (your initials) etched into it. Two halves of the small heart. Broken by distance. By time. By stupid arguments and inflated egos.

“Y/n?” Pete cooed as he saw tears welling in your eyes, just enough to give you that glazed doughnut look. Snapping yourself out of it you sighed heavily, sending Mav a comforting look.

“I have learnt two very important things since that day—sir” You spoke softly, confidently. Your eyes never leaving where Rooster stood dancing. “One being that I was never going to let anyone see that they could get to me, ever again” You paused, picking at the skin around your nails as you looked down, finally breaking your gaze.

“And two?” Pete asked softly. Looking at you, the daughter he never had.

“If the Navy is only going to see a girl that’s dangerous, a force to be reckoned with and way too stubborn, then there’s no point in trying to be anything else.”

“Ah, spoken like a true Kazansky—“ Pete chuckled. Looking at you with pride in his eyes. Offering you a hand to shake. You took it reluctantly, with a small scoff because this felt stupid. You’d only ever known Pete Maverick Michelle as dad's weird friend who was close enough to the family to be considered your uncle. He was and always would be, Uncle Pete. “It’s good to see you Y/n, really.”

“Yeah I’m sure the gang’s gonna love finding out that Y/n 'Chaos’ Kazansky is who they're up against. The last name is the actual definition of nepotism in the dictionary.” You let go of Mavs' hand with a small laugh. Accepting your last name was something you had to do a long time ago when you joined the Naval Academy, by now? There was nothing anyone could say or do that could get under your skin anymore. Well, that was genuinely the case.

But then there was Bradley fucking Bradshaw.

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

You kept your head low and your gaze down, not wanting anyone to catch your eyeline as you made your way through the crowded floor of the Hard Deck. Slipping into an empty bar stool at the corner of the Bar. Penny made her way over to you with a smirk—It wasn’t out of your character for you to not pull a stunt like this. Throwing the bar rag over her shoulder, Penny poured you a glass.

“Have you ever tried seduction techniques?” Penny chuckled. “You know instead of the whole, steak out undercover cop situation you’ve decided to go with?”

“Oh I have those.” You smirked as you took the beer Penny handed you, leaning against the bar as she watched you take a small sip. “Just don’t really feel like sleeping with my soon to be co-workers.” You explained as Penny gave you a subtle look of agreement.

“How you been?” Penny asked casually as she went back to cleaning the bar around your spot.

“Ah you know me Pen, cause Chaos and what not.” You cooed, a wild smirk on your face as always.

“And how’s your Dad?” The tone in Penny's voice made your nose crinkle. You didn’t feel the need to elaborate on how much Cancer of any kind sucks ass. Penny knew.

“Well, he told me he amended his final will and testament the other week so—“ you paused, shrugging your shoulders. Taking a long drawn out sip of the crisp beer. The glass ice cold in your hand. Licking the foam from your top lip as you sighed gently, looking at Penny with a sad gaze. “It is what it is I guess, can’t do much about it now.” Silence fell between the pair of you for a moment, it was comforting though. You worked to fish out your card from your wallet. Placing it on the bar as you went back to picking the skin around your nails. “Open a tab for me will ya?”

“I’m sure Pete's good for a few more—“ Penny chuckled as she handed your card back to you. Watching as Jake Hangman Seresin approached the empty bar stood beside you, sliding in casually.

“Another round for the boys and a glass of lemonade for the WOS.” Jake sent Penny a smile, cocky and all knowing. Handing over a bill you didn’t quite see the amount of, but you knew it would have been enough to cover his round.

“Coming right up.” Penny took the cash as you sipped your beer, looking down slightly so your cap hid your face somewhat.

“Hey, what’s the news through the grape vine Penny?” Hangman asked as he waited for his order. “Do you know who’s leading on this?” Jake leaned in a little more. “Because if I’ll be honest I’m stumped.”

“No clue.” Penny played coy. Of course she knew. Penny knew everything that was ever going on in Miramar. In Fightertown. Everyone knew that. “However, I have heard from a pretty strong source that Y/n Kazansky is floating about somewhere.” Coughing, you choked on your own gasp of air.

“Oh bullshit—“ Hangman hissed as he sat up a little straighter. “Chaos? As in Y/n ‘Chaos’ Kazansky, you mean to tell me she’s here?” Looking around, Hangman’s eyes were wide trying to pinpoint where you might be. Looking for a uniform was probably his first mistake. You couldn’t help but to snicker under your breath. Men. “C’mon Penny, point her out if she’s here, sneaky little minx is probably lead.”

“Sounds like you’re a little intimidated there?” You asked as you sat up, finishing your beer. “What’s this girl got that you don’t?”

“Well for starters her Fathers the commander of the entire US Pacific fleet.” Hangman probably wasn’t trying to rub it in, but it came off that way nevertheless. “So nepotism is surely on her side for one—“

“Sounds awful—“ You teased. Maybe this was a good time to get some information. “I didn’t catch your name?” Looking Jake up and down with a slight glint in your eye.

“Who wants to know beautiful?” Hangman replied with a cocky smirk. “Im Jake, Jake Seresin.” Giving Jake your hand to shake, he pulled it up to his lips as he dipped his head, his lips softly connecting with the back of your hand. From across the bar Phoenix had seen the encounter occurring—snickering to Bob as he racked up the next round of pool.

“Poor girl.” Phoenix scoffed as she nudged Bob’s shoulder. Bobs eyes grew a little wider, which some would say wasn’t possible. But he recognised his old front seater by the curve of your smile.

“Oh I’m not getting involved with whatever’s going on there.” Bob wouldn’t interrupt, he knew you knew what you were doing. He was confident when you were ready your make your presence known to the rest of the TopGun crew.

“Well, Jake, Jake Seresin, what brings you to the Hard Deck?” You already felt the regret sinking in as you felt Jakes eyes drinking you in. You shouldn’t have struck up a conversation. You should have just stuck to the original plan. Silent reconnaissance.

“Ah, I don’t even know your name yet and you wanna play fifty questions?” Jake was quick to point out. Panic had well and truly consumed you but you kept a level head, looking at Penny as she looked at you before you turned your attention back to Hangman.

“Buy me another beer and consider it forty nine?I’ll even help you look for this Y/n lady. What does she look like?” Hopefully Jake wouldn’t call your bluff, because that’s all you had really. That one single stupid bluff.

“Wouldn’t know, I’ve never met her.” Hangman moved a little closer, Penny saw the slightest bit of awkwardness that oozed from your composure. Your body language changing. “Besides, my eyes are on you—“

“Rooster has—“ Penny pipped up. You sent her a look of shut the fuck up as you ducked your head. “Hey Bradshaw, get over here!”

“Uh—“ You instantly panicked. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.” You couldn’t move fast enough even if you tried, pushing yourself away from the bar as you saw Rooster coming closer. He’d spotted you with a questioning brow. He could and always would be able to pick you out in a crowd. Knowing you were trying to make a shifty exit, he played along. Letting you make your way to the bathrooms in the back. Hangman scoffed as Rooster approached—blaming him instantly for his failed attempt at a pick up.

“I was making a move, Rooster, you better be gone before she gets back.” Hangman hissed as he took a sip out of one of the beers he’d brought for the boys. “And what’s this about you knowing Chaos Kazansky?” Hangman asked cautiously as Rooster leaned on the bar beside him. His elbow landing in something sticky Penny hadn’t had the chance to clean up yet. Looking at Rooster, Penny sent him a small, all knowing smile. Rooster just stared back at her point plank.

“If Chaos is here? We’re all screwed.” Rooster explained. “She’s probably who they got to teach us.” Rooster and you may have had a rocky history, but he knew what you were capable of. What you had survived. What you had achieved—and none of it had anything to do with your last name. “Well, more so you Seresin.” Rooster teased as he pushed himself off the bar, looking at Penny who just pointed in the direction you had gone. Rooster sent her a small thank you. His hands coming together almost prayer like before he walked away.

You thought enough time had passed as you peered out into the hallway. Deciding the coast was clear, you exited slowly, sighing in relief as you walked back towards the direction of the bar. You felt your cap being yanked from your head gently as you slowly turned around. Shock plastered on your face—Rooster stood staring you down, placing your cap on his head childishly with a mischievous smirk.

“Well Hi there Chaos, fancy seeing you here.” Rooster bailed you into the nearest corner. Trapping you. “This is how I find out you’re stateside?” His arms outstretched on either side of you as your back pressed against the wall. Reaching up with a scoff you took your cap back. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who Navcon got to train us?”

“What?” You frowned. “No, I don’t know who they got you jackass—“ You chose to lie, omit the truth. You knew the second Bradley Bradshaw knew Pete Mitchell was going to be his teacher? He’d be out. Throw in the towel and not live up to his full potential. A little white lie never hurt no one. “Is that all you care about though? Does the slightest possibility that you’d have to take orders from me really wind you up that much?” Rooster closed the gap a little more. His chest practically pressed against yours, his breath hot against your cheek as he growled in your ear.

“No, for your information it’s not the only thing I care about—I just wanted to know exactly how to introduce you to the group.” Rooster smirked as he ducked. Forcing you forward over his shoulder as he stood. Carrying you through the bar. “Guess we’ll go with old reliable huh? A pain in my ass.”

“Bradshaw!” You hissed through gritted teeth as you tried to get a reach on his boxer briefs. Ripping up his Hawaiian shirt. “Put me down. Rooster!!” You flailed around in Roosters grasp before he put you back down on your feet. Watching as you fixed yourself up. “What is the matter with you? Are you mentally deficient!” You growled as Rooster stood before you with his arms crossed. He looked good, way too fucking good for you to handle right now. His hair was lighter, his tan a little darker, his muscles—well, a lot bigger.

“If I was mentally deficient I wouldn’t have spotted you from across the bar! But guess what Kazansky? I got you on tone.” Rooster rubbed his success in your face. Wanting to kill him yet trying to control your rage, you looked around at all the faces staring at you. All in their military uniform. “Gentleman, Phoenix—“ Rooster smirked. “We may as well pack our bags now because this, is none other than Y/n ‘Chaos’ Kazanzky.”

“Oh you sly little minx—“ Hangman stood across from you on the other side of the pool table. Staring you down as he felt like a grade A fool.

“No hard feelings there, Hangman?” You replied. “You were just an easy target.” You held your hands up as you fixed your hair. A mess after Rooster had ripped your cap off. The group teased Hangman with oh snaps and laughter. “Besides, you’ve made your opinion of me abundantly clear—“

“I wouldn’t have said that if I knew I was talking to you.” Hangman tried to defend himself, the group simply were not buying it. They knew who his character was. He meant what he had said about you being a nepotism baby.

“Still doesn’t change the opinion—“ Rooster came to your defence quicker than you would have liked. You could handle your own, you didn’t want anyone thinking anything less.

“So, how do you two actually know each other?” Payback asked curiously. “Because I wouldn’t casually go up to a stranger at a bar and throw her over my shoulder, might just be me, but—“ Payback trailed off as you looked at Rooster, already looking at you. It was complicated to the very least and a complete and utter train wreck, the kind you want to look away from but can’t, to say the absolute most.

“We grew up together—“ You spoke at the same time Rooster did, only he didn’t say the same thing.

“We dated for a while—“ Rooster let the cat out of the bag. You let a small but audible fuck escape as you shook your head. What the hell man? Not cool at all.

“Oh shit, the Commissioner's daughter Rooster.” Hangman smirked as he took his shot, sinking the red ball he was going for. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Watch it Bagman—“ huh? You thought his call sign was Hangman? Now you were truly confused. “Chaos is not her farther, the sooner you respect that the easier the foot she drives up your ass will feel later.” The group all laughed at Rooster. Even you let out a small chuckle. “She’ll put us all in our places if we don’t keep an eye on her.”

“Trust me—“ It came from the corner, a voice barely audible. A southern tone you’d recognize anywhere. Robert Floyd. “She will.”

“Jesus not you too?” Flyboys eyes bugged as Bob shook his head in absolute denial.

“What? No! No—we flew together for a while in Lemoore. I was her WOS.” Bob explained. “She’s the only pilot that’s ever made me question my career choices.” Rooster couldn’t have agreed more. You sent Bob a soft smile—surely you’d have time to catch up with him later. You made a mental note to grab some fresh ginger at the local store the next time you did your groceries. For Bob.

“Alright well, as fun as this has been? I think I’m gonna head out.” You let everyone know as Rooster's hand fell to the small of your back gently as he whispered in your ear. The concept of personal space not registering with him.

“I’ll walk you out.” Roosters breath fanned over your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It felt somewhat surreal to have him so close, to have him so willingly in your presence without recoiling into himself. Something was off, you were waiting for the other foot to drop. The “lets get back together boot” that always fucking dropped.

“I’ll be fine Bradshaw, my cars just—“ you tried to brush him off but Rooster didn’t let you finish.

“I said I’ll walk you out.” Rooster repeated, only this time his voice was a little deeper. More serious. You looked at him as he kept his eyes on you, hungry, like he’d been starved for days.

“Okay slow your role there lover boy.” You couldn't help but to tease. Rooster was hot on your tail as you made your way to the front door of the Hard Deck. The sun had set slightly more as you walked in silence towards your Bronco. Fucking classic that you and Rooster had managed to rock up in the same type of car. Rooster let out a scoff as you both approached your car.

“Such a copy cat–” Rooster teased as he looked your car up and down, the faded clear coat looked like seven shades of domestic violence. But it was still your baby. Beauty would forever be in the eye of the beholder with your Bronco. For Rooster too.

“No.” You slapped Rooster’s chest playfully as you turned around, your back against your driver's side door. “You got your Bronco after dad gave me mine, you are the copy cat here.” you playful reminded Rooster as he once again trapped you in. his arms on either side of you. “Not me.” Once again it was the silence that was deafening. Roosters eyes roamed you as you drank in the sight of him. It had been too long. This was always how it went down though. You'd go such a long period of time without talking, without seeing each other. You'd forget all the bad, all the hurt, all the pain. At least that's how you assumed it was for Rooster anyway. But you swore after the last time you wouldn't forget and you certainly would fall into the trap.

“I missed you.” Rooster admitted. “I do miss you.” He corrected himself. “You don't call, you don't text–”

“Why would I do either of those things Bradshaw, the last time we saw each other you told me to go to hell.” You reminded Rooster. The memory made him cringe physically. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That doesn't mean I still don't care about you.” Rooster cooed. “When I saw you across the bar I thought I was going to throw up.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear.” You chuckled as Rooster leaned in a little more, his lips ghosting yours as Hangman and Phoenix stood at the window watching the encounter go down. “dont –”

“Dont what?” Rooster smirked as he softly placed his lips on yours. One of his hands moving from its place on the driver's side door to your cheeks, gently caressing your flushed cheek. He could feel the heat in his fingertips. “Oh you mean don't do that?”

“You’re so annoying you know that.” Shaking your head in defeat you kissed Rooster back, your arms flung around his neck as his went to the small of your back. Pulling you close as you asked for more, tongues dancing expertly. You knew this dance all too well. “Why don't we get this out of the way early on?” you mumbled against Rooster’s mouth as you fumbled with your car keys, removing one of your arms from around Rooster’s neck to fish them from your back pocket. “Do you want me back?” opening the back door to your Bronco, you fell in, dragging Rooster along with you. His lips now on your neck as you moaned. “Say it—“

“I want you back, please Chaos— I—I still love you, never stopped.” It had never been a question as to whether or not you loved Bradley or if he loved you, you would always love him and likewise, he would always love you, maybe even more than life itself. But for some reason? It never worked out.

“Say it again.” It came out more of a command than anything else as you rid yourself of your hoodie. Rooster doing the same thing as the Hawaiian shirt he loved so dearly fell discarded to the floor of your Bronco.

“Please—please baby I want you back.” God, it did things to you when Rooster begged. Littering your neck with dark marks as he did so. Bucking into you with need and lust. But just as you expected it. The other boot.

“God you’re so hot when you beg.” You chuckled maniacally, it made Roosters blood boil, enough that his hold on you got a little tighter, a little rougher. “But we don't work Bradsaw, and you know it.” Your legs wrapped around Roosters waist holding him close as you cupped his face. His arms either side of you holding him up. Hovering over you in the backseat of your Bronco. You felt like a teenager again. “Tell me you know this never ends how we want it to.” Rooster didn't respond, he simply chewed his tongue. “Rooster?”

“It never works out because you never give me a chance–” Rooster hissed, pulling back as you sat up.

“It never works out because once you have me you forget I even exist!” You retaliated, grabbing your hoodie as you pulled it over your head. “God lets not forget that it has been you, every single time that has broken it off!” You spat, holding back tears. “And it's always you who comes crawling back with some poor excuse as to why you broke it off in the god damn first place.”

“Im trying to break up with you Y/n” Roosters voice was low as his legs hung over the edge of the whauf. Sitting beside you in his naval uniform. He’d just been accepted into the naval academy after being set back four years. Uncle Pete had pulled his papers. Something he never let you forget.

“I know–” Pausing as you kept your eyes locked into the distance. Not looking at anything in particular, but just something, anything, anyone but Bradley. “And it's okay.” You’re entire world shattering around you.

“How is that okay?” Rooster questioned as his fingers laced with yours. Your head falling to his shoulder as he kissed the top of your head softly, the smell of your shampoo consuming his senses. He didn’t want to break up with you—but the thought of the unknown scared him to death. He knew if he really was able to achieve what he wanted to be, it would be too unfair to ask you to love him unconditionally when all he did was put himself in danger. Not knowing that in two short years you’d be joining the academy yourself.

“Because I can wait.”

“I can't make you wait for me, I'm not going to do that.”

“You don't have to, because I know we’re meant to be together.”

You blamed yourself really, you'd set Rooster up to believe that every single time he came running back that you'd be waiting for him with open arms. Because that’s exactly what you did because you loved him too much to let him go for good. Until you couldn't take it any more.

“I think we need to take a break.” You stood before Rooster after having just told him how you'd just received your latest posting. Lemoore California. “I just don't think I can do the distance anymore.” It probably wasn't the best way he could have put it. What Rooster really meant to say was he missed you too much when you were gone, it hurt. He thought perhaps it would hurt a little less if he knew you weren't his. Oh how wrong he was and oh how he didn't see this coming. Every time you guys broke it off you’d tell him it was okay, that you'd be okay. But this time? Your heart shattered into a million pieces and you weren't sure if you could ever do this again.

“You know what?” sighing in utter defeat, in heartbreak. “I think I'm ready to let go now–” Holding your tears back as you let the letter you held fall to the ground beside you. Gritting your teeth as you felt your heart literally ripping apart inside your chest. “Thank you for breaking me to the point where I learned to finally value myself, It took a lot.”

“Y/n–”

“Get out of my fucking house Bradshaw.” Rooster stood before you as you held yourself together the best you could. This was the last time you'd let Bradley Bradshaw break your heart. “I'm not doing this anymore, this back and forth bullshit!” Shoving at the Roosters chest, he didn't move as tears fell down your face. “You use me, you keep me around for when your board and as soon as you don't need me anymore, don't want me anymore, you get rid of me–”

“That's not how it is and you know it.” Rooster groaned as he ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “I love you, I do, but–”

“Well figure out a way to stop because you will be the last person I allow back into my life!” You hissed, Rooster felt you venom sink into his heart. “Stop loving me because I will never fucking love you ever again.” Silence fell around you, the atmosphere heavy as Rooster looked you up and down. He was about to break, tears in his own eyes that mimicked the sadness in yours.

“Go to hell Kazansky.” Rooster finally said it as he grabbed his jacket. “Go to hell.” slamming your front door on his way out Rooster never saw how you dropped to your knees in anguish. Screaming at the top of your lungs because not only did he walk out of your life? But he took whatever was left of your shattered heart with you. Changing you forever.

“You know what?” Rooster grabbed his Hawaiian shirt as he stepped out of the car. “This was a mistake.”

“Your god damn right it was!” You snapped back at Rooster as you got out of the back seat and slammed the car door, opening your driver's side door before stepping in. “And for your information, Bradshaw, I have given you chance after chance after chance and all you do every time is prove to me you can't change even if your life depended on it.” Rooster took notice of the necklace that hung around your rear view mirror. He had the same one around his. His heart felt like it had exploded into a million pieces inside his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, never meant to. “You do this to me every time, so let's just get through these next couple of weeks without killing each other and we’ll go our separate ways again exactly how it's supposed to be.”

“You still have it.” Was he ignoring you or something? You felt the rage in the pit of your stomach bubbling over as you sighed in frustration.

“What? Still have what–?” You caught Rooster's gaze looking at your rear view mirror. Following it as you both stared at the old necklace for far too long in shared silence. “Yeah well, Teenage Bradley can't be blamed for the dick his adult self turned into now can he?” you smirked.

“Teenage Bradley would have had an aneurysm over the chance to get you in the backseat of his car, let alone ruin the moment because his ego can't let him have a decent win every now and again.” Roosted admitted as he leaned against your doorway, the door to the driver's side of your car still flung open. Laughing together for a second or six, you smiled softly at Roosters.

“We are not good together.” You shook your head in defeat. “We both know it.”

“Yeah well, one can only dream.” Rooster reached out to tip your chin up. “I mean it when I say I love you, always will.”

“That's a little toxic.” You teased, but you knew deep down it was true. Letting your head rest against your seat. “I love you too–honestly, but we can't keep doing this whole toxic tango we do. its not healthy Rooster.”

“What is with those two?” Payback asked as he joined Hangman and Phoenix at the window of the Hard Deck. Completely gobsmacked at what they had just witnessed. Watching as Rooster walked back towards the front patio with his head down and his tail between his legs. Watching as you drove off only to where everyone would assume would be base. Like I said at the beginning, you were never going to let anyone see that they could get to you, ever again. It was the plan you had stuck to thus far and it had worked.

But then there was Bradley Fucking Bradshaw.

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

Chaos Masterlist

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#top gun bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster series

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simpforrooster · 2 years

Text

captain.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x f!reader

t/w: age gap (two consenting adults here), making out? cursing. I think that all.

Maverick knows he shouldn't pursue you. You're one of his students. Surely you would want to date an old has been. He just can't help himself.

You’d caught Maverick’s eyes as soon as he saw you laughing with the other Top Gun graduates at the Hard Deck. He hadn’t expected to see Penny here, she all but wrote him off anyway.

“We’re not doing this again, Maverick. I met someone. We got married last spring,” Penny showed him the rock on her finger.

“Bradley!” your sweet voice calls out, making Mav turn his head so Rooster doesn’t notice him. Mav pretty much decides right then and there, your voice is the best thing he’s ever heard.

He also doesn’t miss the way Rooster takes you in, making a big show of checking you out. He watches Rooster pull you tight against him, and there is something deep in Mav’s stomach he knows can only be jealousy.

Jealous of his dead friend’s son. Jealous about one of his students. God, what a mess.

There is no way this could work. You were at least twenty years younger than him, and one of his students.

But, damn, he can’t take his eyes off you.

Maverick spends the time between now and him getting thrown out of the Hard Deck trying to stop himself from thinking about you.

It doesn't work.

From the moment you walked into the training room to when you went up in your jet, flying with such grace, Maverick couldn’t shake you.

After dogfight football, the crew talked Maverick into joining them at the Hard Deck.

“Here you go, Captain,” you tell him, handing him a beer.

Maverick hides the groan that slips out of his mouth at your use of his rank pretty well. He gives you a nod. “Thanks, Squish.” He uses your call sign, not trusting himself to use your rank, or hell, even your actual name.

Maverick found out they call you Squish as a call back to the stuffed animals you smuggled into basic training. Allegedly they’d reminded you of home, and you were known to lend them out to those who needed a little bit of home.

As if he couldn't fall more for you.

Your sweet heart, jaw-dropping good looks, and impeccable flying? Fuck.

If only he could get you away from Rooster. Mav and Rooster still hadn’t made up, and he was just going to add stealing Rooster’s girl onto the long list of reasons why Rooster hated him.

Maverick is pretty good at eavesdropping and learned that you and Rooster weren’t an item, but he’d heard enough from Hangman and Coyote’s conversation to know Rooster definitely had his eyes on you.

The only thing he doesn't know is how you feel about Bradley.

Maverick isn't worried, though. He may be older, but he hasn’t forgotten how to pull a lady when he needs to.

You settle onto the stool next to Maverick, and it takes everything in him to keep his hand wrapped around his beer and not around your shoulders.

You bought your instructor a beer. Your hot instructor. Your perfect in every way instructor.

What the hell are you thinking?

The grip on his beer bottle doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Does he think it’s inappropriate that you did that? You’re damn well old enough to go for him. Shit, Maverick could ram into the side of your jet and you would thank him.

Maverick looks over at you and gives you a smirk.

You pray the dim bar lights hide your flush.

“So, what’s the story between you and Bradley?” Maverick asks you, his voice neutral, but you can tell he’s fishing for information.

You could kill Bradley for the way he’s been hanging all over you lately. Bradley hasn’t said, but you know there is something in the past that has him and Mav rattled. You also know your best friend knows you better than yourself and could tell immediately that Maverick caught your eye.

“We’re just friends,” you admit, hoping you aren’t reading into anything. God, that would be embarrassing. “He’s like a brother to me.”

Did the side of his mouth just lift? You hope he caught on to you insinuating that Bradley was in the friendzone.

“Is that so?” Maverick gives you a stomach-flipping smile before bringing his beer to his lips. He tips it back, and you’re lost in what he’d taste like if you kissed him right now.

The tension between the two of you becomes so palpable, the next thing out of your mouth falls out with no consent.

“You know I’m not worried about the age difference, right?” Your voice is low. Almost so low you didn’t think Maverick heard you at all. He works his jaw, obviously battling some inner war. He squeezes his eyes shut, then reopens them. Maverick keeps his gaze forward.

“I am going to make an excuse to leave, wait five minutes, meet me in the alleyway.” His voice is hushed, and he speeds through the instructions, you almost don’t comprehend.

Your heart starts pumping overtime as he throws back the rest of his beer. He stands and feeds the gang some bullshit excuse about needing to head home to rest before training tomorrow. They brush him off, calling out his age. Mav holds his hands up in defeat and turns toward the exit. He doesn’t look at you as he slips out the door.

The next five minutes feel like five years.

When your phone finally shows that five minutes have passed, you put the device to your ear. “Oh hey, Mom! Yeah, I’m good. Let me step outside so I can hear you better.”

You follow Maverick’s path out the door unnoticed. In an instant, he has you backed up against the wall of the Hard Deck. One hand settles on your waist, the other above your shoulder, braced against the building. Maverick breathes you in, planting small kisses along your neck.

The butterflies ripping through your stomach are almost too much. Is this really happening?

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell is kissing your neck. He runs his nose along the trail of kisses he left until his mouth is at your ear.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to get you alone,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending chills down your arms.

“Please kiss me before I wake up from this dream,” you sigh. That’s what this is. It has to be. There is no way Maverick likes you back.

“This isn’t a dream, Y/N,” he whispers. This is the first time he’s used your name, and it sounds amazing coming from him.

You grip his bomber jacket in your hands, pulling him closer to you. Maverick is objectively not the tallest guy, but he still towers over your frame.

“Please, Pete,” you almost beg. Hearing his name must be his undoing, because his lips are meeting yours in a greedy kiss.

Expert lips move against yours, and Mav’s other hand finds its way to your hip. His fingers slip under your shirt, burning into your skin, causing a soft moan to fall against his lips.

This makes the corner of his mouse rise, he knows exactly how he’s making you feel right now.

Of course he does. The man is just as egotistical as Hangman. All these naval aviators are the same, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting him.

Maverick has you right where he wants you, and you couldn’t care less. He could ask you to rob a bank and you wouldn’t think twice.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says in your ear. His voice is hoarse. You have the same effect on him as he does you. This makes you grin.

“Do I get to ride on the back of your motorcycle, Captain?” You test out using his rank again.

He pulls you in for one last kiss, before practically dragging you to his Kawasaki.

“Honey, you can do anything you want if you keep calling me that.”

a/n: phew. I couldn't let another day go by without writing for the man himself.

masterlist

#topgunmaverk #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x y/n #maverick x you #maverick x reader #pete mitchell imagine #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x y/n #maverick fanfic #maverick imagine

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witchwyfe · 4 months

Text

here with me - tik

pairing - college! Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x female reader

précis - mav makes a bet during the soccer's teams getaway.

content/warnings - language, annoyance towards maverick, fluff

word count - 933

a/n - college soccer player ice series

“Okay, you know this is actually really stupid.” You complain, curled up in the backseat of Carole’s car. “Everyone else wants to sleep together, why can’t we?”

“You know how the guys are,” Ice huffs from the other end of the phone. “They’re turning it into a competition.”

“Yeah, and who’s idea was it?” You scoff. “Maverick’s. He’s single and an asshole, he doesn’t have any stake in the game, of course he would propose something like this.”

Something like this being, for your autumn break trip to a cabin, sleeping arrangements are all girls together, and all boys together. Despite the fact, that the trip is made up of some of the soccer team, and their girlfriends. Mav even thought it would be funny to have whoever caves first, buy everyone dinner on the last night.

You sigh loudly, ignoring Carole’s chuckle from the driver’s seat. Her and Goose finally got their shit together, and they’ve been happily dating since summer.

“And of course you won’t crack, because you love to win.” You whine pitifully, more to yourself than your boyfriend. “I’ll see you when we get there.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your purse, leaning your head against the window, watching a flurry of orange as you pass a multitude of trees.

Not much more time passes before you’re pulling up at the cabin, clearly the last ones there, if the amount of cars shoved into the dirt driveway, is anything to go by.

Ice, Goose, and Slider are quick to come out and help with the bags in the back of Carole’s trunk.

“Hiya honey,” Goose greets, before dipping Carole in a dramatic kiss. You turn to see Ice, and pout, before falling into his arms.

“Hey baby,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss at your hairline.

“Icey,” You whine. “Missed you.”

“Pretty girl.” He coos. “I missed you too.”

Following a week of mid-terms, you’d barely gotten to see your boyfriend. Both of you had stacked schedules with exams and papers, and Ice had a big game right before break began. You were looking forward to a long weekend with him, snuggled into his arms while you sleep, the way you hadn’t been able to.

His arms squeeze easily around your waist, and he lifts you a bit until you can’t help but smile. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt.

“Was lookin’ forward to sleeping with you this weekend.” You tell him quietly. “I didn’t sleep well last week.”

“I know, me too.” He says, lips at your temple. “I’m sorry angel.”

“Not your fault your friends are stupid.”

He chuckles, squeezing you one more time before setting you down. He grabs your duffel bag and purse, waiting for you to shut your car door, before heading inside.

“Carole and I are sharing a room, I think,” You frown. “That’s what Marcy said in the group chat.” Marcy, Slider’s girlfriend, was also very upset about the sleeping arrangements, had coordinated which room everyone is staying in. Your boyfriend nods and continues in, before stopping at a room and gently setting your bags down.

You notice two beds, neither much bigger than a twin, but still an upgrade from the college dorm bed Ice had snuck in, to share with you countless times the previous year.

“Look baby,” You whine. “We could totally fit in here, you always cuddle up anyway.”

“I know, sweet girl,” He soothes with a kiss to your temple.

Carole comes in a second later, Goose rolling her suitcase while she spouts similar complaints that you had.

“Just because Mav isn’t getting any, doesn’t mean he has to ruin it for the rest of us.” She huffs, crossing her arms against her chest. Goose barely bites back his snort, throwing his head back in laughter before Carole sticks a withering glare on him.

You nod in agreement, turning towards her. “That’s what I was just telling him, I mean why did anyone invite him anyway? He’s fucking annoying.”

“Okay,” Ice warns softly. “Not that I don’t currently share the sentiment, but Mav’s room is right down the hall and I’m sure he can hear us.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, leaning into him. “Are we allowed to sit together on the couch at least?”

You packed everything you need for your night time routine and to sleep. Your face is washed, teeth are brushed, and now you’re scrolling on your phone, trying to chill before bed. Carole had long snuck out of your room and into Goose’s—you wish your boyfriend didn’t take everything so seriously. Goose laughed in Mav’s face when he proposed the competition—so it’s too quiet and you don’t have anyone to talk to. Right in the middle of your scroll through Tik Tok, your phone buzzes with a text.

I miss u

You smile, imagining your boyfriend curled up in his bed, missing you enough to send you text.

Come in

You respond.

Carole left. We can push the beds together :)

He sends back:

We don’t need that much room.

Less than a minute later, your door is being pushed open and your boyfriend, clad in boxers and an old crewneck is suddenly sliding in behind you, arms circling your waist.

“Missed you.” He mumbles into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against the skin.

“You’re not allowed to agree to any of Mav’s dumb bets, ever again.” You grumble. “Last time you had to bleach your hair and now this.”

“I know baby,” He coos. “No more, I promise.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #witchwyfe #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x you #tom iceman kazansky imagine #tom iceman kazansky oneshot #tom iceman kazansky fanfiction #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x you #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky oneshot #tom kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #iceman oneshot

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tgmsunmontue · 6 months

Text

It's all academic darlin' PART 3/10

12k+ Hangster AU. Updating 2-3 parts per week and will be finished by 31st January 2024. (Each part is ~1500 words).

Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.

PART THREE

When Bradley returns from his run he stands outside in the shade of a trees and catches his breath for a few minutes, stretching his legs. The scent of baking bread takes him by surprise and he turns his head towards the cabin and can’t help the little hmph he makes. Jake can apparently make bread, or something that smells a lot like it, and Bradley shouldn’t be impressed by that, his bar is clearly too low. He jumps up the steps and pushes the screen door open.

“Something smells good. Have you made bread?”

“Yeah. Didn’t bring any with me.”

“Meh. Who needs to buy it if you can make it.”

Bradley strips off his tank and wipes his face with it before heading to his bedroom, definitely in need of a shower. He gives Jake a quick glance and notes the other man doesn’t even give him a quick once over and Bradley shrugs internally. Likely straight then. He showers quickly and dresses again, spends a couple of minutes shoving some clothes into his bag in a lazy attempt to start packing. All his clothes need washing, but he’s been here on his own for over ten days, and he’ll be back onto town supply water soon enough. Huh. Water. He heads back out to the kitchen.

“How are you with plumbing?”

“What?”

“I need to show you how to deal with the water pumps. If it decides to stop working for whatever reason here are the top three reasons –”

“How will I know if it stops?”

“You won’t have running water in the house. Trust me, it’s something you notice pretty fast. The pipes will just make this awful gutter-gasp like they’re about to explode if you try and run water.”

“Wait, will they actually explode?”

“Oh, no. Just sounds fucking awful. It’s just trapped air.”

“Okay then…”

Bradley laughs at the worried look on his face and he wants to give him shit, but takes him through the filter cleaning, telling him that he shouldn’t need to do it again, but sometimes weird things happen. He scribbles down instructions on how to turn the pumps off, walks him through it and shows him and then shows him how to turn them back on again. Bradley then makes him do it, and he doesn’t know for certain, but the fact that Mav has offered Jake this place tells him that Jake likely needs rest, peace and quiet and Bradley would put his money on a concussion as a minimum. Mav had asked if Jake seemed okay and Bradley hadn’t known how to answer, has no comparison so had been necessarily vague. Right now though, well, Jake seems to follow the instructions well enough, which he’s going to take as a good sign.

More of his earlier conversation with Mav comes back and he knows that while Mav might have offered this place to Jake to use, Jake doesn’t know about Mav’s relationship with Ice. That’s a closely guarded secret Bradley now has decades of practice keeping. He won’t be here long enough to have to worry about it, and this place is used too often by people who may not know for there to be anything incriminating lying around. He focusses his time outside, stacking the wood he’d chopped yesterday, letting Jake help although he keeps a careful eye on him, grabbing them both bottles of water.

All throughout they talk, Jake tells Bradley about the first time he met Mav, his oh fuck moment when he’d realized the next morning exactly whom it had been he’d tossed overboard from The Hard Deck. Bradley can imagine it, laughs at the image and wonders if Mav ever told Ice. They talk easily and Jake shares snippets from his flight school days, time in basic training and Bradley in turn shares some of the utterly stupid shit he got up to in his undergraduate days. He takes Jake down to the edge of the lake and points out the best launching places, although it doesn’t escape his notice that Jake winces a little when he lifts his arms up past his shoulders. More than a concussion then and he knows he’s unlikely to ever find out.

They end up making grilled sandwiches with the beer bread for dinner, and it’s easier going than he had expected when Jake had turned up yesterday. He’s met plenty of naval aviators in his time, and for the most part they’ve all had massive egos. He gets it though, there’s the confidence in knowing you’re good at what you do. He has the same confidence at work, feels sure of what he’s doing and saying. So he gets it when the pilots he meets have confidence in their abilities. It’s when they try and make it seem like they’re somehow better than Bradley, or worse, better than Mav, and he’s over hanging around for witnessing that shitshow. Jake seems pretty normal all things considered.

“I’ve got an early start tomorrow so I’m going to head off to bed. It was nice meeting you man. Feel free to get my contact details from Mav, I never bother to remember my number. Would be good to see you around. Maybe grab a beer.”

“Yeah, thanks. Nice to meet you too. Thanks for being so accommodating.”

“Any time.”

… … …

Jake feels like he’s accomplished a Herculean task and he congratulates himself for his self-control. He didn’t stare or say anything inappropriate when Bradley had stripped to his shorts in the kitchen when he’d returned from his run. He hadn’t made any comments about how competent he looked handling wood. He’s pretty sure this is what Phoenix would refer to as growth. Not that he thinks she’d believe him right now. He had felt Bradley’s eyes on him, watching and assessing throughout the day. He wonders if Mav had told him to keep an eye on him, he wouldn’t put it past the old-man. He’s not even sure if Bradley’s looks had even been sexual in nature at all, but he’d had to remind himself, this is Mav’s son. Even if there had been messages, he’s ignoring them. Plus he’d wake up to an empty bed tomorrow regardless. In addition to all that he really doesn’t feel up for anything more energetic than walking to the bed and falling into it. Maybe he should reinstall the dating apps and try looking for something when he gets back to North Island.

When he gets up the next morning the house is silent, no music, no one singing and he allows himself to have a small fleeting moment of disappointment before sucking in a breath and telling himself that he’s fine. He’s here to rest and have some peace and quiet. He goes through the motions of breakfast, is glad when there’s running water. He’ll try for a swim later, even if he just ends up floating in the shallows, he imagines the cold water will feel nice all over. He takes his cup of coffee and settles outside, decides to start on his calls to catch up with people and starts with Javy.

“Hey man! You made it to Mav’s secret cabin. You know you’re the only one he’s ever offered it to right? Not his favorite my ass…” Jake laughs, because despite everything he does think that Mav might actually have favorites. And he’d put himself up there. “Seriously though, how is it? How are you?”

“It’s good. Better now that I’m on my own.”

“Wait, who else was there?”

“Oh, Mav’s son was here for the last couple of nights. He left early this morning to head home.”

“And it’s better without him there why exactly?”

“Because fucking Mav’s son would not have been a good idea.”

“Pretty sure fucking anything right now isn’t a good idea. Although he’s an adult right?”

“Who? Oh, Bradley? Yeah, little older than me I think? Don’t think Mav would care about how old he is.”

“I think you’re projecting. I think Mav lets his kid make his own decisions.”

“Moot point anyway, he’s gone and I’m not likely to see him again any time soon.”

He doesn’t mention the offer of getting his number off Mav. He’s not asking his ex commanding officer for his son’s number. Although he’s just realized he had a wide open opportunity to give Bradley his number and he didn’t take it. And that sends a message of its own. Okay then. Door closed on that opportunity, even if it was just potential friendship.

“So… was he hot?”

“He wears Hawaiian shirts and has a moustache that belongs in a porno from the 80s…”

“I’m not hearing a no,” Javy states and Jake can just imagine the look on his friend’s face right now.

“He manages to somehow make it look really good.”

“Definitely sounds like a you problem.”

“Fuck you too.”

PART FOUR

#Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #It's all academic darlin'

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sassenach082 · 3 months

Note

i'm curious: since mav is bradley's legal guardian (permanent, I assume) does that mean he's probably on shore assignments (or top gun, i guess) for the majority of his naval career instead of what he does in the original canon (quits top gun, never goes back to teach after that first time, presumably is on deployment a lot before he gets in trouble for something and gets put in the test pilot program?) that's an interesting prospect to me since it seems similar to a lot of pre-tgm fic, where mav just... like, stayed at top gun after '86, and never left, but obvi in most of that, he didn't have a kid to take care of. i mean, things probably change a lot after bradley... maybe cuts ties in the 00s?? if the pulling papers things still happens, but with all the family support and no mention of carole ever explicitly telling mav in the beginning about not letting bradley fly, i'm also curious how that plays out too since it's also probably v canon-divergent. and also — how do u think ice's career trajectory goes? ive seen many takes on how he got to compacflt lol

Hey nonnie! Whew, buckle up, I have a lot of thoughts.

They're going to be at Top Gun for a while, but they won't be staying there. Ice will come back later on, but Mav will be doing other things. This is going to be long and rambly so if you want to read (and aren't bothered by vague spoilers) more under the cut!

With wars coming up they're going to be shifted around back to active duty flying, particularly in Desert Storm. Mav figures out a way to make it work but he refuses to let Ice go without him, and Bradley gets it because he's a military kid. They also aren't going to always be together; actually, they spend quite a few years apart, which is going to hurt my heart to write.

They try to stick to the West Coast. I don't know how much you know about the Navy, but the two main hubs are San Diego and Norfolk, Virginia. In real life they shifted Top Gun out to Fallon, Nevada, but since in the canon of the movie it's still in Fightertown it will be staying there. Most Naval Aviators on the west coast are actually stationed at Lemoore, a base in the middle of California which is a bit of a shithole if my cousin Jay is to be believed, lol, while the east coast aviator hub is Oceania, Virginia. Aviators go through cycles of on a ship, leaving a ship, and then into fleet replacement training to go back on a ship. As soon as my cousin the aviator gets a good night sleep I'm going to pick his brain more about it. If anyone reading this is an aviator or knows one hit me up! I adore my cousin but talking is not his superpower. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.

Anyway to answer your question it's going to be a bit roundabout. IRL you have to have a plan for your dependents in case of deployment and Mav gets it figured out with Ice's help as for who will watch Bradley which will be a whole other can of worms but I don't think Mav or Ice are the type to watch their friends go off to war without them. I haven't fleshed it all the way out but Mav is going to CHOOSE the test pilot path, mostly because it keeps him close to Bradley, and he's going to be doing some special ops shit because in my brain that's literally the only reason the kids in the movie have no fucking clue who he is even though they've all been to Top Gun and walked past his picture EVERY DAY in the atrium, haha.

He's still Mav so yes he will still be pissing off Admirals.

As for Ice, I haven't figured out exactly how I want to get him there I'm still doing research. I do know that they have to command ships so at some point he'll get a carrier most likely because he's Ice and who the hell better to hand a carrier to, in my opinion. He leaves the sky fairly early in his career if you look at the whole span of it, partly because flying is something he loves but doesn't define him like it does for Mav, and this way he can keep Mav up there doing what he loves while he also gets to climb the ladder. It's a lot of politics which I hate so I'll be grumpy about having to research all that shit but I mean COME ON, it's Ice. Of course he gets a fucking Fleet. I also headcanon that the Joint Chiefs are beating his door down and he's just like that Obama eye meme saying THEN PERISH because he likes being able to go to the ocean to escape them.

Anyway back to the Navy, not sure if you or anyone who is into Top Gun knows this, but Ice is quite literally AS HIGH as you can go in the Navy. There hasn't been a Fleet Admiral (with the five stars) since Nimitz died in '66 and has only ever been held by four dudes: William Leahy, Ernest King, Chester Nimitz, and William Halsey Jr. (names you may recognize if you know your WWII Naval history but I digress). So basically four-star Admiral is IT, like that is the top of the ladder, unless you get asked to join the Joint Chiefs of Staff and work directly with the president. Tom likes to be in charge of things so I think the Joint Chiefs would be hard for him - they have no direct control over the Navy at all and it's a desk job in Washington D.C.

Maybe one day he could become the Secretary of the Navy, but I don't know if I can see Tom doing that, tbh. They have to be 5 years removed from military service at minimum. So I dunno. Still up in the air as far as Tom! Right at this moment he's being an asshole on an aircraft carrier in 1987, so there's that.

#sassy answers asks #i'll ride au #vague spoilers under cut #it's just about where mav and ice's careers are headed #nothing super specific #and i haven't decided most of it yet anyway lol

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compacflt · 11 months

Note

does ice read architectural digest to keep up w home decor trends or are they solely somewhere between coastal gradparents house and mediterranean style home w leather accents

okay. yes. when they first move in together their house is frat-house-ugly-bad. They don’t want to think about it too much. interior decoration is Incriminating when you’re not supposed to be living together. It’s hand-me-down furniture with scuff marks and stains and no sense of interior design or organization etc. After the whole rooster-papers-pulling-divorce fiasco they (mostly ice) basically start throwing money at it in the hopes that it will help heal their relationship so that’s when it actually starts to look nice & like an actual house that people live in and not just their chaotic secret escape-from-reality house

all of this couched by my own personal opinion that it was a mistake of the highest narrative order to have them buy a house together and everything ive written about it is just an attempt to try to fix/explain that original mistake (as I write about on this blog All the Time)

but late-40s early-50s ice is somewhat clued in to interior design trends yes. think midcentury modern and a Lot of chrome everywhere because they are middle-aged white guys. or, shit, his canonical interior decorating sense, that’s what the house is supposed to look like! It’s supposed to be the TGM house lol. so like dark woods and bookshelves and big windows etc. HOWEVER. this is just a hc that i cant in any good conscience actually work into any type of narrative, but: they’re, like, really into aviation themed decor. like, really really. it allows them to be into the girlycoded hobby of interior decorating because it’s interior decoration about a manlycoded lifestyle. like if you look on etsy for aviation decor…

ice & mav have it all. i am so serious about this.

#like that engine coffee table… thinking about mav sourcing an f-14 turbofan from ‘a buddy of mine’ in the mid 2000s to DIY table like that #look these extras are just an opportunity for me to work in all my extremely specific lame headcanons okay #and do weird shit with the writing i couldn’t otherwise do #having fun for once #trying to give myself permission to be silly/goofy/experimental #writing practice is writing practice #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #asks #secondary headcanon that maverick is the real Magazine guy in this relationship #ice reads books; mav doesn’t have that kind of attention span 90% of the time #but that boy can Fuck Up a magazine #maverick is the AD reader here #He got the free tote bag and was like ‘now what the fuck am i sposed to do with this’

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cowboybeepboop · 2 years

Text

Hawaiian hangout

“Mm this is my favorite song, what about you Darling? Do you like it?” “It’s nice, but I don’t like slow rides, I like going fast,”

Pairing: Hangman x fem! Reader

Genre: plot with some porn

Word count: 2928

Summary: Hangman has a thing for you but your relationship with Rooster makes him jealous. You’re a badass who is the best of the best and this shows when you and Mav get into a “fight”.

A/N: I don’t usually give the reader a callsign cause I think it’s fun to make up your own but for this oneshot I made the readers callsign Darling because her superior (the guy from the academy) who gave it to her thought it was fitting because she’s innocent and sweet looking on the outside but in the sky she’ll out fight anyone in a dog fight. Basically he’d call her Daring Darling, or DD, since no one saw her as a threat at first and also because she loved the DareDevil comics. Anyways this is just some random ass info I made up, it gives nothing to this so like yeah idk I was just bored. Also I fr based the friendship on my friends and I’s relationship because I think we’re absolutely hilarious no questions asked and for some reason everyone thinks we’re dating. ALSO I WROTE THIS ENTIRE THING WHILE MY MOM WAS NEXT TO ME ON A ROAD TRIP SOS I CAN’T STAND MYSELF. Anyways saw Top Gun: Maverick for the 5th time and met some really cool older women today.

Bradley has been your best friend forever, since kindergarten when he “accidently” pulled your pigtails and you started crying. His only excuse was that they were uneven and he was trying to help, fucking idiot. He does that a lot though, he’ll try to help and end up making a bigger issue out of it, for instance this exact moment when he spilt red wine on your white dress and poured white wine on top to “even it out”. Now you’re fresh out of the shower, smelling like Bradshaw’s coconut shampoo and wine.

“Hey, Brad. Got anything I can wear? I mean after all you did wreck my dress, twice,” you giggle with a teasing smile, he scratches the back of his neck and hands you a pair of your old shorts and one of his Hawaiian shirts.

“That's all I could find, I must have left your wardrobe at my mom’s storage place.” shrugging you take the clothes from him, smiling sweetly.

“Don’t worry about it duckie,” he rolls his eyes and puts his best mom face on, standing with his hands on his hips.

“It’s Rooster, not duck,” he puts on a dramatic performance, throwing his head back, hand over his heart, “I can’t believe you don’t even know my callsign, after all of these years.” one last exaggerated sigh before he falls back on the couch.

“Damn, did the shock kill you?” your eyes light up with mischiv, as long as he’s pretending to be dead I mean you might as well, you tickle his sides watching him fight back a fit of laughter.

“Come on Y/N you should get changed, we’re supposed to go meet Phoenix soon,” he sits up grabbing your arms and pinning them to your sides with a sweet smile.

“Shit, I almost forgot about that,” you quickly grab the clothes, throwing on the shorts and his white Hawaiian shirt, leaving it unbuttoned showing off your white cropped tank top. “I think we’re actually a little late,” he grabs his keys and puts his hand on your waist pulling you out the door with him.

“Well, I intend on surprising her anyway,” he locks the door and hops in his jeep. You follow suit, getting into the passenger side sighing at the heat that hits your thighs as they touch the dark leather seats.

“This is torture, I’m burning alive,” Bradley shakes his head while starting the engine, you buckle up pulling the seatbelt under your left arm so it doesn’t sufocate you.

“That defeats the purpose of the seatbelt, you’re supposed to have it over your chest,” he teases as you glare into the side of his face.

“It’s uncomfortable, it’s suffocating my chest,” he puts his free hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly.

“I know, I just wanted to piss you off,” Bradly smiles innocently as he keeps his eyes on the road, you flip him off secretly. “I saw that, Darling” he glances over to you raising his eyebrows slightly, “You’re gonna have to be more careful next time,”.

“Ouch, you’re being real serious Bradley. You even used my callsign,” you fegin shock covering your mouth theatrically. That’s the thing about your relationship with Bradley, the majority of the time you guys are being dramatic, which really confuses people because they don’t understand your guy’s comedic geniusness.

Bradley pulls into a parking spot, he gets out of the jeep and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door and offering you his hand. You roll your eyes “You go first Brad, I’ll go in, in like a minute,” he nods his head and salutes you.

“I’ll see you in a minute then,” you wave him off pulling a thing of chapstick out and applying it, you check your phone and reply to a couple texts. Mentally preparing yourself for the loudness of the bar, sticking your phone into your pocket before climbing out of the vehicle. You run a hand through your hair while walking through the bar entrance, “Hey, Y/N over here,” Bradley calls you over while holding his stomach softly.

You go up to the bar to order two beers, you end up standing right next to Maverick, “Can I please get two beers Penny?” she nods with a sweet smile, “Oh shit, Mav I didn’t notice you earlier,”.

“Hey, Y/N, how’s it going?” He smiles while sticking his phone into his pocket.

“I’m good, how about you,” you sit down on the empty stool next to him, keeping your attention directly on him.

“I could be better,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you should head over to Bradley, he’s waiting for you.” you nod, standing up to get the beers and thank Penny, “One more thing though,”

“What is it?” you search his serious eyes looking for any hints about what he might ask of you.

“Could you maybe not tell Bradley that I’m back in town just yet?” Maverick scratches the back of his neck while his eyes go softer pleading with yours.

“Of course, Mav,” you smile and lean in for a hug, he wraps his arms around your waist gently while using his thumb to rub up and down your back. You pull back from the hug, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

You weave in between a few groups while making your way over to Rooster and Phoenix, once you get to the pool table you pull your sunglasses up leaving them on top of your head. “Here Bradley,” you hand him a beer, taking the other as you sit next to Bob, “Hey, Bobby boy. How’s the man, the myth, the legend?” he smiles as he pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. The familiar blond man turns his attention on you, looking you up and down with a small smirk.

“I’m good now that you’re here,” you smile, showing your slightly pointy canines.

“Fuck, Bob you know just how to get my heart racing,” you stare into his eyes before he looks away, a soft blush creeping up his neck.

“You know him?” Hangman questions as Bradley pops up behind you taking your glasses from your head, folding them up and hanging them on the collar of your shirt.

“Yeah, he’s my favorite weapons systems officer,” you smile while placing your hand on his shoulder. “He’s always focused and has never made a mistake, it’s too bad they don’t let me fly with an RIO anymore,” you sigh dramatically while he admires you from the side, Rooster rolls his eyes.

“You know, the higher ups would let you fly with an RIO if you weren’t such a maniac,” you pretend to be offended as you shove his arm away from your side.

“Ugh, you’re so mean to me all the time,” Hangman is not so subtly checking you out while you and Bradshaw bicker. Phoenix interrupts you two trying to stop your random argument.

“So, Y/N I’ve been wondering something for a while,” she pulls Bradley by his shirt softly, you nod at her motioning for her to continue, “why is your callsign Darling? Isn’t that kind of misogynistic?” Phoenix’s comment draws everyone’s attention to you.

You laugh softly, “It does seem like that doesn’t it? It’s just something my parents nicknamed me when I was younger and my commander thought it was fitting for me. But,” you smile softly, “People usually call me DD,”.

“Before you ask the meaning of that,” Rooster laughs, “you’ll have to wait until you see her fly to fully understand.” He sounds like a proud dad while talking about you.

“I also have a question,” Coyote raises his eyebrows, “Why are you wearing Roosters shirt?”.

“He ruined the dress I was wearing earlier,” you shrug and Coyote’s eyes slightly widen as he coughs. Hangman’s jaw clenches while he narrows his eyes on Bradley.

Slow ride starts playing, “Mm this is my favorite song, what about you Darling? Do you like it?” Hangman smirks flashing his perfect white teeth.

“It’s nice, but I don’t like slow rides, I like going fast,” you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip keeping an intense stare on Hangman.

Penny rings the bell again, Hangman, Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy take Mav out. You chew on your cheek while going over to the bar, “Hey, Pen, I’ll pay Mav’s tab,” she hands you the check.

“It’s a pretty big bill,” she warns you but you already had your wallet pulled out, you hand her your card.

“It’s fine, I have a lot saved up,” you smile sweetly, Bradley pulls the cord on the jukebox, taking his beer over to the piano.

“Are you sure, love?” you nod, she swipes the card and then hands it back to you with the receipt. Rooster motions for you to come over.

You go over to him and he sings to you “You broke my will, but what a thrill,” Bradley pulls you onto his lap and you start singing with him.

“Kiss me baby,” you hold his cheeks, kissing him on the forehead, “Ooh, that feels good, baby”, he smirks looking you up and down. You giggle as you continue to sing in sync with him, nodding your head with the beat of the song. Hangman clenches his fists, sucking his teeth, shifting his jaw in anger.

_________

Things between you and Maverick have been a little tense since he found out about how you paid his tab, not to mention the tension between him and Rooster putting even more strain on your friendship with Maverick. The funny thing is Maverick told you not to fly like you usually do, you’re way more skilled in dog fighting than the rest of the pilots from your previous training and missions, your goal is to train for the mission with the rest of the team rather than gain more skills; however, Maverick went ahead and pushed your buttons. You’re the first pilot up which means you’re supposed to lose like everyone else and do the 200 push ups, but with Maverick’s intensity and Bob’s encouragement you’ve found yourself flying like your life depends on it.

Maverick’s plane is right on your ass, both hands grab your centre stick, pulling toward your midsection. Your plane shoots up, “Holy shit,” Hangman's voice rings through your ears as you switch directions heading straight for Mav. He pulls up trying to level with you, you flip upside down, narrowly missing his “shot”, you push the centre stick opposite of your body swooping low.

Maverick locates you once again, he creeps closer to your tail, before you hastily pull up. You’re upside down (again) hovering over Mavericks plane, “Fuck she’s on his fucking tail,” Hangman is sat back watching you two fight.

Your engine stalls and you direct your plane away from Maverick’s, you’re headed straught for the ground, “Fucking hell, my engine stopped,” you keep hitting the buttons grabbing your centre stick, still none of your efforts make a difference.

“Eject, Y/N eject right now,” Maverick yells as he follows your tail, at this point you’re hitting the hard deck.

You’re finally able to gain control of the engine again, you pull up as fast as you can. Your plane zooms past Maverick, your hands shake as you put your aim on Maverick and the beeping starts to ring out, “I gotcha Mav,”.

“Y/N get out of the sky, now.” you can hear the anger in his strong tone, your planes all touch the ground. You get out of the vehicle, hands shaking as your feet touch the ground, Mav runs over to you.

“Why the fuck did you not eject? What if you couldn’t gain control of your F-18?” you fall back on the ground, laying against the boiling pavement.

“I don’t know, can you stop yelling though. My head hurts,” you close your eyes, chest rising and falling quickly, your arms and legs feeling like jello. The rest of the team rushes down over to you and Maverick, he stays stood over you staring down at you.

“You’re reckless,” he says in a silvery tone, “you could have been seriously injured, or even killed,” Maverick nearly yells at the end of his sentence.

“In my defense I’m tired of doing push ups, I’m an amazing dog fighter I don’t even need any more training. I've already got two confirmed kills. That’s half of what you’ve got Mav, I’m good and I’m not cocky.” you sigh out, lifting your head to look at him as you sit up, “I’m fine with not winning against you or being the best but shit you’re getting on my nerves,” Rooster comes over and helps you stand up.

“Hangman, take Y/N inside and get her some water,” Mav pinches the bridge of his nose while using his other hand to wave you and Hangman off.

You unzip your uniform while walking towards the locker room, Hangman is a couple steps behind you keeping a close eye on you to make sure you don’t fall.

“Hey Darling, why doesn’t Maverick use your callsign?” Jake’s hand rests on your back as he opens the door for you, his body getting impossibly close to yours. “I mean he uses Roosters, it doesn’t make much sense that he doesn’t use yours,” he says voice barely over a whisper.

“I was his right hand man in a mission once and because he named me, my mom couldn’t think of a good name so she asked him,” you shrug, walking into the locker room peeling off your uniform that’s drenched in sweat.

“You were really good up there,” Hangman presses up against your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he breathes against your neck softly.

“Hangman, what are you doing?” his hand moves down to your thighs, spreading them a little. You instinctively lean back against him, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“Darling, you can stop me whenever you want,” he kisses your neck softly, “and please, call me Jake,” he whispers into your ear sending shivers down your body. He moves to sit down on the bench pulling you onto his lap.

“Are you okay with this?” you nod enthusiastically, biting down on your lip roughly, “No love, I need to hear you say it,” he pulls his hands back from your body.

“Fuck, please Jake. I want this, I want you,” you put his hands back on your thighs, spreading your legs for him.

“Good girl,” he smiles, biting your earlobe softly, receiving a soft moan from you. Jake pulls your soaked panties to the side, sliding his index finger between your pussy lips before landing it on your clit. He rubs slow circles around your bundle of nerves, changing the amount of pressure from time to time. You grip onto his upper arm roughly, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as your body presses into his. Pleasure shoots down your spine causing your body to shake softly, biting down on your lip you snake your other hand up to his hair pulling at the roots.

Hangman uses his free hand to grab something from his pocket, “You know Darlin’, you dropped something yesterday,” he whispers into your ear. “I didn’t think much of it, so I picked it up. But there’s something curious about this lipstick container,” fucking hell, there’s no way I dropped it here. You think to yourself while trying to stay focused on his words.

“You can imagine my shock when I opened it and..” he takes the cap off, sliding the base to the side, the dreaded quiet vibration filling your ears. He smirks against your neck as he begins peppering kisses against the warm sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Jakes movements were overwhelming, giving you zero opportunity to come up with an excuse, “I can totally explain why I have that,” your hole pulses around air, grasping for some sort of friction.

He presses the tip of the vibrator against the spot he's been massaging, swirling it around in steady circles while keeping a consistent rough pressure. “Jake,” you pant out his name, moaning into his ear.

“Is my pretty girl close?” he uses his free hand to knead one of your breasts through your shirt, you nod against his shoulder, “You’re so naughty, do you like that Rooster could walk in at any minute and see how good I make you feel?” he tightens his jaw at his mention of your chaotic friend.

You squeeze your legs tight around his hand, feeling close to your climax. He spreads your legs with one hand and his knee, “You’re being so good for me Darling, don’t disappoint me now,” he bites down on your neck softly. Jake increases the amount of pressure he’s using, causing waves of euphoria from your head to your toes.

Soft moans spill from your lips, your toes curling as the knot in your stomach snaps, Jake pulls your chin to move your lips against his. Your lips mesh passionately as he keeps pushing your orgasm, eyebrows scrunching together as overwhelming pleasure fills your body, like a warm cup of hot cocoa after a long time in the snow.

“Good girl, Darling you’re so good for me,” he whispers against your ear, he begins wiping up the warm liquid with a handkerchief from his pocket. “We need to get you cleaned up before anyone notices how long we’ve been gone for.” Jake kisses down your neck before pushing you up off his lap.

#jake seresin #jake seresin smut #top gun maverick smut #top gun hangman #top gun hangman smut #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #hangman smut #smut

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thewhiskersonkittens · 1 year

Text

Call Me

Pairing: Nick “Goose” Bradshaw x Female Reader.

Summary: After you both find yourselves suddenly single right around Valentine’s Day, you and Nick “Goose” Bradshaw give the “Single's Connection” dating line a call on impulse. You both are pleasantly surprised with what you find on the other end of the line. 📞💋🔥

Warnings: Smut, strong s*xual dialogue, curse words. phone s*x, m*sturb*tion, Goose being a freak, sleazy late-night TV commercials, outrageous landline phone bills in the pre-Internet era. Minors please DNI! 18+.

Word Count: 5,713.

A/N: Minors please DNI! 18+. You are responsible for the content you choose to consume. I did a little bit of research on the old 1-900 numbers that used to be advertised for this sort of thing. I’m sure what I describe here in the story isn’t 100% accurate as to how those phone numbers worked exactly but I kindly ask to be overlooked on that.

Hope you enjoy my trashy mind. ;)

Goose sighed as he slumped into the recliner in his apartment on base. He ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. He didn't know why he was getting so worked up. Valentine's Day wasn't a real holiday, or at least it shouldn't be. It was just pure commercialism. It was something chicks made a big deal about and dudes went along with it just to keep their girl happy. But there was something painful about being dumped right before Valentine's Day. It hurt like hell.

His date to a party at the Officer's Club had canceled last minute. She was now the third consecutive dud Goose had in the dating world. He had no problem meeting attractive women, especially with Maverick by his side, but it seemed like it always went nowhere.

"Don't worry, Goose," Maverick told him in the Miramar locker room after training was complete for the day. The pilot quietly told him he would check with Charlie and see if she knew anyone to fill the spot. Goose only shook his head no.

"Thanks, Mav, you're a real pal. But I'll pass. By the way, you do know you and Hot Teacher Lady aren't exactly a secret, right?"

Maverick and Charlie's relationship was obvious to anyone with a fully functional brain and set of eyes. It was kind of funny watching Maverick trying to keep it under wraps. Goose's best friend was anything but subtle.

Back in his apartment, Goose took a swig from a half empty bottle of Budweiser that he had left on his coffee table. He washed down the lukewarm liquid as he flipped on the TV.

He scanned through the channels, not really looking for anything other a mindless distraction. He landed on a commercial featuring a buxom, platinum blonde.

"I'm tired of being alone!" She proclaimed through the television.

"Yeah, you and me both, honey," Goose bitterly said out loud more to himself than to the woman in the box.

"That's why I'm calling the Single's Connection!" The woman went on.

The camera zoomed in on a shot of her picking up the phone and dialing.

A montage of other ridiculously good looking people smiling and chatting on the phone played as a sultry female voice over narrated:

"Talk to real singles in your area now! It's a fun, easy way to meet someone new and it's always discreet. Give the "Singles Connection" a call at 1-900..."

Goose couldn't help but scoff.

"I'm sure all these hotties must have a really, really hard time in the dating department."

Goose joked as he watched the obviously paid spokes-models on the screen, polishing off the rest of his beer.

The first woman from before appeared back on the screen.

"What are you waiting for?! Call me now and let's make a connection!"

The commercial ended and switched to a different one.

"Call me now and let's make a connection!" Goose mimicked.

What a crock of shit. He thought as he sat down his beer bottle. His eyes flickered to the cordless phone on his table. He raised an eyebrow as he stared at it. It was as if the device was silently daring him. He had never once entertained the idea of actually calling those dating hotlines. He figured a guy must be really desperate to resort to doing that and the girls on the other end were probably nowhere as sexy as the commercial portrayed.

"Nahhh..." Goose laughed at himself as he shook his head.

Yet, curiosity got the best of him. He picked up the handset and pulled out the long antenna.

"God, this is so stupid," He muttered. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

He punched in the number and went through all the prompts. It apparently was one of those lines where you left a voice recording of you describing yourself and what you were looking for and if someone was interested they would give you a call.

"Hi, ladies, my name's Goose." He spoke into the receiver. "I'm six foot two, one hundred and seventy pounds. I have dark blond hair and brown eyes. For a living I...well, let's just say I have the most bitchin' job in the world. It's guaranteed to make your ex jealous. I'm not rich but I do know how to show a girl a good time. I hope you like the Grand Slams at Denny's and don't mind being picked up in a pretty rad Ford truck. In my spare time, I like playing the piano and singing "Great Balls of Fire" at the top of my lungs and pissing off my peers with my best friend. Anyway, I'm looking for a girl who thinks Valentine's Day sucks as much as I do and is bored and just wants to talk. Yeah, I don't have very high standards. I guess that's pretty obvious, huh? I mean, here I am calling the “Singles Connection” after all. So if you think I'm the stud for you, give me a ring. And by the way, I do have a mustache and I wear Hawaiian shirts in public with no shame. But don't let that scare you off. I'll rock your world, honey. "

Goose could hardly keep a straight face as he ended the message with his phone number. He figured no girl would ever respond to such a silly message.

With a chuckle he put the phone back in the cradle. He got up to go finish the previous night's dishes and when he was done he returned to the recliner and dozed in and out of sleep while watching some more TV.

A few hours later, the phone started ringing, stirring him awake.

Goose looked at the phone ringing and glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight. Who was calling this late?

...

"Hello?" Goose answered. No one said anything. "Hello?" He tried again.

He heard nothing but a faint gasp and the sound of a click. The caller on the other end hung up. Goose looked at the phone in his hand in disbelief.

A minute later, it rang again. He answered on the second ring and hesitated before speaking.

"Helllooo?" Goose asked, slowly and carefully.

A deep breath was inhaled and exhaled on the other end. Finally, a female voice spoke.

"Um, yes, hello," You said, timidly. "Uh, hi. Is this...Goose?"

You sounded so unsure.

"The one and only," Goose replied.

You cleared your throat, took another deep breath and said:

"Hi, there. I'm Y/ N. I heard your message on the Single's Connection."

Goose about shot up out of his chair when he realized what was going on. He had practically forgotten about calling that number and that silly message he left.

"Holy shit...." He leaned forward and clasped his hand over his mouth.

"Is this a bad time?" There was a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"No, no, no!" Goose assured. He chuckled. "I'm sorry. It's just...I didn't expect anyone to actually call me back."

"I'm sorry for hanging up on you earlier," You explained. "It's just I've never done this before. You know, call one of these 1-900 numbers."

"Yeah, it's the first time for me, too." Goose said.

You both breathed a sigh of relief. It made you both calm down and relax.

Goose leaned back in his chair.

"Well, I'm...I'm glad you called! So, you say your name is Y/N? That's a really pretty name."

"Aww, thanks," You replied. "But Goose isn't your real name. Is it?"

Goose laughed. "Hehe. It might as well be. In my line of work it's what everyone calls me."

You smiled on the other end of the line.

"What line of work is that?"

Goose smiled proudly.

"I'm in the Navy. For now, stationed right here in sunny San Diego. I ride in the back of some really bad ass jets. I'm basically like an extra set of eyes for my pilot. I play with the radio and watch the radar, among other things. If we happen to come across an enemy pilot, we keep up foreign relations. Communicate with the single finger salute. We're really friendly like that, you know. All in all...it's...it's..."

He pretended to struggle to find the words. "It's pretty much the best damn job in the world."

You were giggling on the other end.

"Wow, yeah! That does sound really cool. Bitchin', I think is what you called it?"

Goose laughed, remembering he had said that in his message. "Yes, ma'am. Bitchin'."

You spent a few minutes telling him what you did for a living and described what you looked like. You cleared your throat and shifted in your bed. You pressed the receiver closer, so close the pressure started to hurt your ear so you loosened up a bit.

"Hey, um," You start. "I hope you don't mind me asking this... " You take another breath. "But I gotta know something. You know, before we go on..."

"Ask away. I'm an open book."

You laugh nervously. "So..you aren't married, right?"

You grimaced at the thought. Messing around with a married man, even just over the phone, was a line you wouldn't cross.

At first Goose was a little bit taken aback by the question. But it was a reasonable question to ask. Just because it was called the "Single's Connection" didn't mean only single people used the service.

"Oh, God, no!" He said. "Nah, no lucky lady has claimed me yet."

He paused and thought about it.

"Are you?!" He asked, quickly. "You know, married?"

You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Oh, God, no!" You repeated.

"No, I'm not married. I'm single as a freakin' Pringle!"

You immediately thought that sounded like a such a dorky thing to say but you smiled when you heard him laughing.

"Well, good," Goose said, relieved as much as you were. "That's...that's a very good thing to know."

"That's part of the reason why I called tonight," You told him. He didn't respond and you went on:

"I, uh...um...God, I don't know why I'm telling you this. But I just wanted to talk to someone tonight." You paused and twisted the telephone cord around your finger.

"Well, talk to me, honey. I'll listen. That's why I called, too. Just to talk. All jokes aside. "

His voice was so soothing and friendly. You had only been speaking to this guy for a few minutes but he seemed really warm and funny just like he did on his message. Not at all like some creep you expected to get on these hotlines. It also sounded like he had a little bit of twang when he spoke. A sweet Southern man, you thought.

"So you know it's Valentine's Day this weekend, right? I was supposed to go with my boyfriend on this romantic getaway..." You paused and then quickly clarified:

"My now EX boyfriend, that is! Anyway, so we had these plans set months in advance. We were going to go to this really nice cabin resort in Colorado. Oh God, the pictures of it looked so beautiful. But I found out he's been sneaking around on me! He's been hooking up with his ex for weeks."

You scoffed at reliving it all. "Maybe even longer than that. Shit, I don't know. I feel like such a fool. We had been together awhile now. And I thought...I actually thought...we'd...God. I thought this trip was where he would ask me to marry him."

Your voice cracked at the end but you weren't crying or even tearing up. You had no tears to waste on a cheater.

"I guess I thought wrong, huh?" You concluded.

Goose remained silent for a moment. He wasn't exactly sure what to say to a story like that. He went with the first thing that popped into his mind.

"You were going to go on a romantic getaway to Colorado?!" He asked, incredulous. "What's so romantic about having snow all the way up to your ass?!"

You burst out laughing while Goose went on.

"I mean, no offense, dear, but Hawaii is where it's at!"

"Pffft!, " You playfully spit. "Oh, please! Yeah, Hawaii is nice but it's so cliche. Everyone goes to Hawaii! Or the Bahamas. Or the Virgin Islands. Or the Florida Keys..."

"Yeah, cause they know warm weather is better than freezing-your-nuts-off weather anytime!" Goose interjected.

You both laughed. God, this girl is really sweet. Goose thought. You had such a sweet, lovely voice and you described yourself so pretty. Of course, there was the possibility you were lying about that but he knew you weren't. You were very pretty. Inside and out. He just knew it.

"No, but seriously, Y/N," Goose said. "I'm sorry that happened to you, sugar. And here I was sitting 'round moping just because I had a date cancel on me. You got it much worse. You deserve way better. You dumped his sorry ass, right?"

"Absolutely!" You confirmed. "No regrets. I figure I dodged a bullet."

"Good girl."

Something about that made you shift. Underneath the sheets you felt a tingling sensation in between your legs. It was the other part of the reason why you called. You were looking to get off. It had been awhile.

"Hey, um, Goose? There's something else...I,um, hehe... there's something else. I don't know...if you'd even be up for it?"

"Yes? What is it, honey?"

He really should stop calling you the pet names. He had no idea what it was doing to you or perhaps he did? You assumed it was just a thing that came naturally to him, being from the South and all.

"So..." You began. You told yourself to grow up and just spit it out.

"I know we both said we just wanted to talk but the truth is..."

You trailed off. You took another deep breath and put it out there.

"I'm all alone and I'm feeling...like I need someone to help me release some tension."

Your voice had a slight change in it. You wondered if he knew what you were getting at. He sure did.

Lord have mercy. Goose thought. Somebody pinch me. This is too good to be true! Phone sex was one of his biggest kinks. He had done it before with previous girlfriends especially while being on a lengthy deployment. He always ended up regretting it when he got the phone bill but it was one weakness he couldn't resist.

"Goose?" You asked, worried he might have hung up. "Are you still there?"

“Yeah, I'm still here," He said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"So...just to make things clear. You're feeling horny, honey? And you want me to talk dirty to you? Is that it?"

You felt your cheeks get hot and you were certain you were blushing every shade of red right now.

"Is that right, Y/N?" Goose asked. His voice had become more honeyed and an octave deeper. He had turned on his bedroom voice.

"Yes," You breathlessly admitted. "Yes, Goose. That's right."

"Oh, honeyyy...," His always drawl came out thicker when he felt turned on which was happening rapidly even though nothing had got started yet. "I'd be more than happy to help you!"

You felt the tingling sensation in between your legs again and this time it felt like it was starting to throb.

"OK, so what do I do?" You asked, softly, your heart beating faster. "I've never done this before."

"That's all right. Where are you right now?"

"I'm in my bed."

Goose hummed. "OK, that's good. What are you wearing?"

You looked down at yourself as if you forgotten what you had on. You told him you had on an old cotton T shirt and shorts. You realized you hadn't exactly thought this whole thing through.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly in my sexiest attire," You joked. "I told you this is my first time doing something like this."

"Hey, that's A OK with me, baby," Goose reassured. He asked if you wearing anything underneath.

"No?"

"Great. Take them off. All of it. The shirt and the shorts."

"I'll have to set the phone down for just a second."

"Take your time, sweetheart."

You flung back your bed sheets and did as Goose instructed. The cool air in your bedroom made your unclothed body pebble up but you knew you weren't going to stay cold for long.

"I'm back," You said, raising the receiver to your ear again.

Goose shut his eyes trying to picture you, lying naked on your bed right now. He bet it was a really pretty picture.

He opened his eyes and continued.

"All right. I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath for me. Clear your mind. C'mon, honey, close your eyes and take a deep breath. This won't work if you're not completely relaxed."

You scooted yourself all the way back on your bed so that your back was flush with your head board. You both took a few deep breathes together.

"Keep your eyes closed for me." Goose told you. "I want you to imagine something. Think about your snowy Colorado cabin, OK? Think about how beautiful it is."

"OK," You whispered. You concentrated very hard.

"I want you to really picture it, honey. Picture the most cozy, comfy log cabin. It's big and spacious. There's a King size bed. With super soft red and black plaid sheets. There's a wood burning stove in the corner. There's a nice, crackling fire going. It's the only source of light in the whole room besides a few candles that are lit. Inside it smells like oranges, cinnamon and cloves. All those sweet winter smells. On the table, there's a bouquet of two dozen long stem red roses and a basket with wine and chocolates. Outside, it's snowing. It's a light fluffy snow and it's coming down at a steady pace."

"Mmmm..." You hummed. It all started to take shape in your mind. "You make it sound so lovely."

"There's floor to ceiling windows." Goose continued. "No shades. No curtains. No blinds. If there was anyone standing outside, they could see right in. They'd have a perfect view of you. Lying completely naked on the bed..."

Goose was looking straight ahead but the only thing he could see was the picture he was painting with his words.

"But there's no one there," He whispered low into the receiver. "There's no one there but you and me, baby."

Your breath hitched as the fantasy started to turn sexual.

"Can you feel me, baby?" Goose asked. "I'm right there with you in the bed. I'm naked, too. I'm on top of you. We're looking into each other's eyes and I'm stroking your hair..."

"Are you kissing me?" You asked. You had the phone receiver nestled in the crook of your neck. You were starting to move your hands up and down and all over your body. You were feeling much more relaxed.

Goose smiled. "Mmm...yes, honey. I'm kissing you. Kissing your soft, sweet lips..."

Goose moaned just thinking about it.

"Your tongue on mine. Over and over and over. I'm kissing you all over your body. Mmmm...kissing your pretty little face. Kissing your chin and then right along your jawline. All the way down your neck...mmmm...You feel my mustache tickling your skin, baby?"

You giggled. "Mmmm...I bet it does tickle!"

"It's going tickle you everywhere. Everywhere."

You moaned at the scene playing out in your mind. You began to toy with your pebbled nipples and it made you start squirming.

"What are you doing, baby?" Goose asked. "Are you touching yourself already?"

"I'm playing with my nipples," You replied and you hear him make a throaty noise. "Are you going to suck on them, daddy? I want you to."

You had no idea if Goose was into the "daddy" kink thing. You knew from your experience some guys were and some guys weren't. His moan on the other end of the line confirmed he didn't mind it.

"Hold that thought, honey." Goose said.

Goddamn, this girl is going to be the death of me. He thought as he sat the handset down so he could pull off his shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped the fly. He was getting harder and harder by the minute. He moved a box of tissues closer. He was definitely going to need them later.

"You there?" Goose asked when he picked up again.

"I'm here, baby, " You breathed, still stimulating your nipples with wet fingertips. "I'm here with you in the cabin. We're in the sheets. You're kissing me all over. You were going to give my nipples some attention."

"Mmm, yes, " Goose started to palm himself over his underwear. "I bet you got luscious titties, don't you? Do you like it when daddy kisses your titties, baby? Kiss, lick, suck." He made a popping noise as if he just sucked and released one of your nipples. "I love me some titties, darlin'."

"Who doesn't?" You said and you both laughed.

"That's true. Very true!" Goose agreed.

There were two types of people in the world as far as he was concerned. Those who love titties and those who lied about not loving titties.

"Are you going to titty fuck me, daddy?" You asked.

It caught Goose so off guard he didn't recognize his own voice when he made an ungodly moan and almost dropped the handset. He never had a woman ask him to do that before. Over the phone or in-person. It made him pull himself out of his underwear and let his now raging hard-on be free.

"Oh, honeyyy," He drawled. "Fuck yesss..."

You crossed your arms over your stomach so your breasts pressed together.

"Just like that, baby," You begged, picturing him sliding up and down in between your breasts. "Feels so good...mmm...yes, that's it..."

Goose couldn't help but be slightly amused.

"You're a little freak, aren't you?"

You gasped.

"So are you!" You defended with a laugh.

"Of course I am!" Goose licked his lips. “I’m a man after all and I’m in the Navy. It goes without saying. Aww, yes, honey...I'm fuckin' those great titties of yours."

He was steadily stroking himself now. You reached down in between your legs and started rubbing your nub with your manicured hand. You both continued to go back and forth about what you were doing to each other. You were going to put him in your mouth and suck him off. He was going to continue his journey down the length of your body. Kissing, licking, sucking, he assured you he would leave hickeys all over your skin.

"Don't worry," Goose told you . "They'll all be in places where nobody can see."

"Mmm...you're such a gentleman, " You teased. "Turns me on even more."

Goose snickered. "Hehe. I might be a gentleman but trust me, baby, before it's all over, I'll have you acting very unlady-like."

You sighed. "God, yes, please...."

Goose told you about how he was going to use both his mouth and fingers on you.

"I'm in between your legs now, honey. You taste so fuckin' good. Mmmm...You feel it? I like to take my time. Licking that pretty pussy of yours. Over and over and over. Is it pretty, isn't it, darlin'? Pretty just like the rest of you. Then I'm gonna take my fingers..."

He paused and gave them a wiggle before he went on:

"I'm going to take my fingers...my middle and ring fingers...and I'm gonna push them in and out. In and out, baby. Real slow at first..."

You had long since slid down your headboard and you were writhing in your sheets and moaning and panting heavy into the phone. The more this went on, the hotter it got and the more real it seemed.

"That's right, honey, " Goose praised you. "You feel these fingers in you? In and out. Mmm...and I'm still licking you. Mmmm...I'm going to go a little faster. Yeah, faster, faster. That's right. You're getting so wet for me."

You whimpered. "Yesss...Oh God, yes!"

It was true. You were getting wetter and wetter. You rubbed yourself faster.

"That's right, honey." Goose encouraged, loving hearing how you were getting more and more worked up.

"How hard are you right now?" You asked. "You gonna put it in me, baby? I want you inside of me."

Goose looked down and saw he was hard as a rock. He pumped himself faster.

"I'm ready for you, sweetheart. I'm so ready."

He pictured you naked and turned on and all spread eagle for him. It was a gorgeous sight. He just knew it.

"You feel me?" He asked. "I'm right up against you. I'm rubbing against you right now. You ready, darlin'?"

"Please!" You cried.

"I'm going in, sugar." Goose's breathing was becoming as heavy and as labored as yours. "I'm inside you now. You feel so good, baby. Yesss, so damn good. Mmm...You feel me sliding inside of you? Mmm...In and out. In and out..."

"Don't stop!" You practically wailed. You were rubbing yourself vigorously.

"Aww, no, no, no," Goose grinned. "No, baby. I'm not stopping. I'm just getting started. In and out....Mmm... You're so fuckin' good... You feel so good...You feel the rhythm, baby? The nice rhythm we got going?"

Goose exhaled. "Ahhh. You feel soooo good!"

He had no doubt in his mind that in real life you felt incredible.

"Harder.." Your plea was just a breathy moan. Goose heard it but decided to tease you a little bit.

"What's that, darlin'? What did you say?"

You were so wet at this point you were starting to leave wet spots on your sheets.

"Harder, daddy, please!" You begged. Your back was arched and while your one hand was busy stimulating yourself, your other hand was putting your fingers in your mouth.

"Ah, you want me to fuck you harder, honey? You like it rough? Can you handle it, baby?"

Goose was starting to wonder how much more he himself could handle. You both were moaning in unison, both of you getting closer and closer.

"I'm right above you," Goose said. "I'm holding you down and I'm driving my hips into you. Over and over. Mmm...faster and faster...Mmm...you feel so fuckin' good! ...Yesss...So deep inside you...Hehe...I can hear how wet you are, honey..."

It was true. The noises you making were becoming obscene.

Goose couldn't help but feel a bit of an ego boost.

"You're making me feel so proud, honey. Keep it up. Atta girl. Yeah, that's it! Come and take it, baby! It's all yours!"

You weren't going to last much longer.

"Holy shit!" You cried. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..."

"You gonna do what, baby? You gonna come for me? Is that it? I want you to."

You were a blubbering, whimpering mess. It was all you could do was moan into the phone. Your legs were shaking.

Goose was still pumping away.

"Ah, I love those sounds you're making," He groaned. "Like music to my ears, honey. Come on, baby. Yeah, that's good. Mmm...You can come, baby. I'll let you..."

He sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his own crescendo about to happen.

He cradled the phone in the crook of his neck as he reached for a handful of tissues.

"Come with me, darlin'," Goose egged you on. "Come with me. Come on...you can do it. You can do it, baby. Come with me...Ahhh!!!"

"Ohhh, babyyy!!! " You managed to cry. It seemed to be the thing that finally made you both come undone. Your whole body spasmed as you rode out your climax, uncontrollably moaning into the phone. You heard him grunting in rapid succession and knew he was feeling the release too.

You both listened to each other catch your breath for a minute.

Goose chuckled. "Look what you made me do, honey. I made a mess."

You were still trying to come back down to earth. You continued to ride your pleasure wave with little breaths, moans, and whimpers.

"So?..." Goose asked. He discarded the used tissues in the trash can and reached for his pack of Marlboro's. "How are you feeling now?"

He was hoping he helped you out at least a little bit. You certainly helped him.

You cleared your throat, still trying to recover. You opened your mouth to say something but you couldn't help but start giggling. Softly at first and eventually it became a giggle fit. You felt good. So good. Better than good.

Goose smiled listening to you. He, too, began to chuckle as he lit a cigarette and took a drag.

"As long as you're laughing with me and not at me!" He said. "Ahhh...You sound so pretty when you laugh. So? You have a good time, honey?"

You finally found your voice to speak:

"You were fantastic...Incredible."

It was no lie. You wondered if he could make you feel all that over the phone, then he must be dynamite in-person.

"You know, for a guy who said he thinks Valentine's Day sucks," You reminded him of what he said in his message. "You're actually quite the romantic, aren't you?"

You knew deep down he had to be. After coming up with the whole romantic cabin scenario on a whim like that.

Goose laughed. "You caught me, baby. Guilty as charged."

It was true. He was a romantic. A hopeless one, if he was being honest with himself.

"How was I? You know, my first time over the phone and all?" You asked.

Goose thought about telling you that was some of the hottest sex he'd ever had. Instead, he said:

"Perfect. Just...perfect. You were perfect."

"You're not at all what I expected when I called the number," You told him. You told him how you expected to get some creep or a desperate loser or both, neither of which he turned out to be.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, honey," Goose joked. "No, in all seriousness, you're not what I expected either. I didn't expect anything much other than an outrageous phone bill..."

He trailed off and you both groaned simultaneously, remembering how expensive calls to hotlines can run.

"Hey, Y/N?" Goose started. "This might sound kind of crazy but...could I call you, sometime? Outside this hotline?"

He really liked you and wanted to keep talking to you. If it kept going as well as it did, maybe the two of you could meet in person. Perhaps make the fantasy a reality?

"Sure, Goose," You replied, warmly. "I'd like that."

You definitely wanted to keep in touch.

After you gave him your number he said:

"Nick."

"What?"

Goose ran a hand through his hair and grinned.

"My real name. It's Nick."

You smiled.

"Well then, Nick. It's been a pleasure."

In more ways than one! You thought. "Good night."

"Likewise," Goose drawled. "Oh and hey, by the way...Happy Valentine's Day, honey."

#top gun #top gun 1986 #nick goose bradshaw #goose #nick goose bradshaw x reader #goose x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #reader insert #bless you if you read all this b/c it's kind of long ❤

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soggywert · 2 years

Text

Top Gun: Maverick hcs that are on my mind (based off of imos and me and my life) Pt 3

holy shit, we’re up to part 3! hope you’ve enjoyed the series so far! :)

- top gun to me at this point is just a gay club you gotta try really hard to get into

- mav has thunder thighs

- ^^ he has tried crushing so many fruits between his thighs throughout his life ^^

- mav doesnt have a doorknob for his bedroom; because it broke once and he keeps forgetting to repair it. he usually hangs his towel on the doorway to cushion it from any dramatic slam he does so very often (he's a theatre kid)

- slider is actually really good at art. he usually surprises everyone by suddenly drawing a very detailed landscape during a lecture. Iceman is also good at art, but he doesn't do landscapes. He draws Maverick. Doodles of Maverick. Everywhere.

-Pratically Slider and Iceman are the arty kids

- mav has some(multiple even) form(s) of anxiety disorder(s). he acts all big, but he’s usually only a little bit away from having a bit of an anxiety attack (from what Viper said, he has a confidence issue; made me think and all that :,) )

- wolfman and hollywood have the biggest bromance the world can offer. they’re the type of people to make out in front of everyone then say ‘no homo’ right after and proceed like nothing happened.

- maverick has definitely had some slip ups on the bike. he does NOT like to go to someone about it, because he likes to prove he can do it himself because he is a stubborn bastard boy.

- most people in top gun are bastard boys

- mav had a wolverine phase because i said so

- mav cant sit in a chair normally, he has to be sitting on an angle, cross legged, etc. ice is just bloody used to it by now

-Hehe mav sits on ices lap thats just one hc i go back to constantly.

- rooster and hangman usually sit together nowadays and just whisper into one anothers ear and start giggling like a bunch of school girls.

- ever since hangman became mavs son-in-law (cause hangster), hes fucking terrified of the guy and is instantly suckers up to him. rooster has never seen this before in his life but uses it to his advantage

- goose is probably the origin story for most teachers talking about students falling back on their seat because he did it once and just landed square on his ass

- ROOSTER IS A COPY AND PASTE OF GOOSE AND MAV LITERALLY HAS TO BRING HIMSELF BACK TO THE PRESENT TO REMIND HIMSELF THAT 'NO THAT ISN'T MY DEAD BEST FRIEND, ITS MY DEAD BEST FRIENDS SON' but ofc they become best friends AND father son because I said so

-Penny has a picture of rooster and hangman hanging out in her bar and printed it out for both of them to have. They both secretly have it and obsess over it

-Rooster watches crime documentaries religiously

-Mav isn't actually 5"7, he's shorter. He just wears lifts and has heels on his boots. He wears his boots everywhere to prove this. We dont know his true height, it just isn't 5"7

-Maverick gets motion sickness, so there's that danger to flying that he might accidently throw up on himself.

- everyone remember when ice was playing with the pen and doing all those tricks? well when i was rewatching a bit of pewdiepie, i saw him doing those knife tricks with the butterfly knife and all i could think was ice does that and mav is worried it is a real knife

- cyclone is actually, most probably, the biggest ally in the book because he has to deal with the two love birds, ice and mav, all the time

(Part 3/?) Hcs

I want to do one part strictly icemav or hangster so please help me choose id appreciate it :)

Start here at part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/hangman-puzzlesolver/692152151697473536?source=share

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simonlynch · 6 months

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janAUary #1 - record store

ship: dewmav

word count: 1144

summary: maverick pops into dewey's shop to look around. he hopes that he catches their eye instead.

(dew works canonically at a record shop, so why not change up the meetcute -- what if they met at his workplace instead of theirs?)

He notices them when they walk in, but it's not until they're flicking through the 'New Releases' cart just adjacent to him that he truly notices them.

He can't help it, not when their clothes drape so perfectly over their shoulder, which quickly is exposed by the sweater they're wearing and showcases the mass of freckles that pattern their skin there. Or the way the light hits the top of their head just enough that the bluish hue they've tinted their hair shines deeply in contrast with the brighter tones of their outfit. It didn't help he caught the way their stockings were awfully tight as they scooted down the line of albums.

He's seen them before, many times actually. A frequent visitor, but normally only in the very early parts of the day -- the times where he's only barely half-awake, wandering in fifteen minutes late to his shift anyways, and they're too busy with their head buried in the tracklist of whatever album they'd just bought to pay any semblance of attention as they slink past him holding the door open for them.

He decides that maybe he's looking at them now because he expects a ‘thank you.’ Even if they'd never noticed him before.

And it's not until their gaze slowly rises, head still bowed towards the bin of vinyls that he realizes he's staring.

“Uh. Hi.”

It's when they stand back up, sightline flicking around the shop only to realize how clientele-barren and open it was, that they respond.

“...Hi?”

His head is propped on his hand, leaning over the counter lazily, the other brushing through his hair before rejoining its partner on the glass casing that holds the more valuable records in the store.

“Looking for something specific?”

They shake their head, turning away slightly “Ah, no, not really.”

Dewey raises his voice slightly, craning his neck as he leans just a bit more forward, “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll…Be here.”

They don't respond to him, and in an awkward motion, he turns around, bending down and pretending to inspect the bulk of crates and boxes stored behind the counter. He tries to be anywhere, look anywhere that isn't at them. He wanders from behind the register, slipping down any aisle they're not.

When they say something from the other side of the shelving, he suddenly reappears rather quickly from his makeshift hiding place, popping his head around the corner.

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry. Just talking to myself.”

“Right. Yeah, okay,” he nods, but continues to peek past the thin barrier between them.

They sigh, “I guess a second opinion isn't the worst thing ever though, if you have one.”

“Dewey Finn, music connoisseur at your service, dear loyal customer.”

“Maverick will do, thanks,” they smile as he approaches.

He bows, making a show of the whole scene before he takes a look at the two albums they've pulled.

“What's on your mind?”

“Been trying to get into some older stuff lately. But I’m not quite sure where to start.”

Dewey nods towards the gray-stained cover of Who's Next.

“No question on that one. Their best album, for sure. You into rock at all?”

“Newer stuff, heavy stuff mostly. I, uh -- I’m in a band, they want me to,” they pause, throwing up air quotes, “Broaden my horizons, or something. Like I don't know most of the classics already.”

“No shit, you play?”

“I mean, for fun. We don't really…Perform a lot.”

“That's fuckin’ awesome, though. I play too,” they share a moment of solidarity, and a smile before Maverick cuts it short, tucking the vinyl under their arm and putting the other back.

“We could…Maybe hang out sometime. For a jam sesh, or something.”

“Maybe,” Mav turns away shyly. They scurry towards the counter, Dewey rushing back just behind them, a little discouraged from the hesitant quasi-rejection.

Their gaze passes him as he rings them out, taking his time as he still tries to make pleasant conversation. They quickly cut him off, reaching out and grabbing at his wrist, in effect stopping him. He looks over at them, baffled, but somehow not upset that their hand was still on him. They gasp.

“Is that the special edition of White Pony?”

He glances back, to the small pile of things lining the hanging shelf behind him, “Uh, yeah.”

Their expression immediately lights up, “You're lying! I -- I've been looking for it for ages!”

“Well,” he scratches at the back of his neck, pulling at the hair there. He doesn't have the heart to tell them it's behind the counter because it's on hold for someone else, “It's um…That's it.”

“How much?”

He shrugs, knowing damn well they won't accept no for an answer, “Dunno if it's up for sale yet --”

Their voice drops low, “I’ll do anything.”

His head snaps back. He swallows the nervous chuckle creeping up his throat and sees the way their expression falls serious.

He looks behind him again. It's definitely his ass if his manager finds out. But…

“Like, maybe even a date?”

Maverick seems confused, at first. Not quite what they'd expected. However, as they look him over again, the lopsided smile he wears, the disheveled outfit, the wild hair, it’s almost endearing. Kind of cute, even.

“Maybe even a date.”

“You're serious?” he tilts his head. He didn't actually expect them to agree -- nor was he going to admit that he probably would have sold the thing to them either way.

But hey, he shot his shot, and he didn't miss, for once.

They stop, think, then fail to cover the giggle that overtakes them, “Sure. Why not?”

When he turns around to grab the vinyl, he pauses, pretends to be rearranging the rest of the shelf for balance, tries to hide the way he's smiling and can't stop. To be fair, he's also trying desperately to think of what to say now; He didn't expect to get this far. The beep of the register draws him back as he finishes cashing them out. When they take the bag from him, their fingers brush his. They lean just a bit closer to him.

“For the record, I would have said yes even if the vinyl wasn't at stake.”

He laughs nervously, a little louder than he should have if he wanted to seem calm, probably. “For the record. Like, because --” he gestures vaguely to the album, and when he realizes it wasn't an intentional pun, he bites his tongue and forces a smile, “Yeah. Okay, well, I'll pick you up at seven, then. If that's cool.”

They turn just before they reach the door, “I'll see you then, Dewey. Don't be late.”

“I'm never late,” he shrugs.

“Sure you are. Every day I see you, you're late.”

And with that, they leave. He watches them walk down the block, disappearing shortly into the lunch-hour crowd.

“...So you did notice me.”

#.writing #janauary2024 #.dewey

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