#Pete Mitchell x OC

[jackiequick]

Welcome to our lives, princess | Top Gun Maverick Fic 🧸

Top Gun AU series ✈️

Setting: After Top Gun, Pre-Top Gun Maverick

Summary: Pete Mitchell and his friends Tom Kazansky and Audrey Davidson didn’t expect in 1987 to be greeted warmly with a knock on his door at 4 in the morning by a social worker carrying a small bundle of joy and paperwork. In her arms, held the one and only daughter of Maverick Mitchell.

—

The night was dead silent, having just arrived the last 24 hours before from a 4 week long deployment. The statement of the household wasn’t nothing grand but it was home, no one cared. Tom was dead asleep soundly in his bedroom, when the barking sound of the doorbell woke it him up. He wasn’t sure it was their drunk friends or some idiot freshman playing ding dong ditch on them again, either way he rolled out of bed slipping on a navy blue t-shirt and headed downstairs.

The moment he opened the door, he was greeted by a middle aged woman wearing glasses and a pencil skirt, with a very tight ponytail. She was holding a dark gray carrier but Tom wasn’t given a chance to full process the image in front of him. “Are you Mr. Peter Mitchell?” She asked, fixing her weight.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows and blinked a few times, “I’m sorry, who are you ma’am?”

“I’m Linda Colins. A social worker for California state, are you Mr. Mitchell, sir?”

“Ah um, no he’s upstairs asleep. He’s my roommate. I’ll get him for you.”

Tom lead the woman into the living room, watching her put the dark gray carrier carefully on coffee table. Once she did so, due to the fact of better lighting from the lamps, Tom was able to finally get a better view of the image in front of him. Inside the carrier held a small baby girl with some dark brown hair sticking up nicely and her skin was a light palette of oli tones. It matched his wingman perfectly, that was Pete’s daughter. He knew he had to call Audrey as soon as possible but first he had to get this gorgeous little girl’s daddy.

Iceman ran upstairs into Pete’s bedroom, quietly but quickly. He seemed so peaceful in his sleep, when Maverick wasn’t being chaotically charming, he was simply darling. Iceman rubbed his shoulder and whisper, “Mav, buddy wake up.” No response only a annoyed groan from his wingman, Iceman rolled his eyes and shock him again saying, “Maverick wake up. You can sleep later!”

Finally Pete Mitchell shot up from his bed grunting from being waken up at 4 in the god damn morning. He sent a sleepily glare to Ice and whisper yelling, “What the hell, Kazansky?!”

“You’ll see. Oh, before we go downstairs remember, your my great friend and I’ll love you all the same doesn’t matter your decision.”

“Okay? You’re being honest and weirdly confusing at the same time.”

Maverick followed his friend downstairs in utter confusion and still pissed off for being waken up this early in the morning. He rubbed his eyes a couple of time until he reached the living room, seeing the sight in front of him. The middle aged woman and the baby girl in the carrier. Pete Mitchell was spooked. He was speechless, he couldn’t speak, only listen to the lady speaking.

“Are you Pete Mitchell?” Said the social worker, holding a file.

Tom answered for him, “Yes he is.”

“Good. I’m going to cut to the chase, you are this little girl’s father. Can you confirm or deny this?”

“Who’s the mother?” Asked Tom once again, his eyes stayed on his friend who’s eyes were trained on the little girl in the carrier.

“Melissa Oxford.”

Pete snapped from his gazed taking a sharp breath and spoke, “Lissa? I um..yeah we met and dated a while back, nothing serious, i went to see her again months before deployment..she was gone, moved back to Indiana to get a job in her home town…or that’s at least what the neighbors told me…”

—-

Truth be told, Maverick wasn’t sure what happened to the woman, but he cared about the ladies he would spent time with even if it was only for a few weeks. Truly his heart belonged to Penny Benjamin but he knew he sadly couldn’t have her, due her father not liking him very much and the life that he tried his hardest lived. Iceman can see the gears and sadness pooling in his friends eyes, knowing he would’ve liked to know sooner and at a better time that his child existed.

The social worker, Linda, spoke again, “Yeah she was pregnant at the time and gave birth to your daughter. Sadly she died due to complications after the birth but said that if anyone deserved to take care of the kid, it should be her father.”

“And?” Pete asked, since he knew there was always a catch to theses things.

“She told the nurses, for me to tell you, that if you don’t want her she can be put up for adoption.”

Pete was frozen hearing all of this and trying to take in all it, he hasn’t even held his daughter yet but he’s being given all of theses information. It made him feel sick, he moved out of the spot he was placed in, moving over to the coffee table. He heard the social worker, Linda, speaking once again but he ignored her as Iceman decided to have a conversation with the woman instead. Tom wanted to give Maverick a clear solid moment with his daughter for himself.

Once Pete reached the coffee table, he pulled back the cover that mostly tried to shield the baby’s face from the light. Peeling over the straps that held the carrier together, he was finally able to take her in. He was met with a half sleep baby girl who yawn as her eyes fluttered gently as if trying to greet her daddy. Maverick can see the similarities between them.

Her color palette of soft oil skin, curled little nose that remind him of his baby pictures, and tucks of curly dark hair that sticked up ever so sweetly. Mostly her eyes said it all, they were a light shade of green that would grow to match his dark green ones. Maverick gently reached forward using the back of his pointing finger to gently and ever so softly run across her round cubby cheeks. Pete smiled as tears slowly appeared, he knew that this was his daughter, pride and joy. His little princess.

“..hi, baby girl. I’m your daddy..” Pete said, carefully taking her out of the carrier realizing that she must’ve been only 4-5 months at least, or he could be wrong. He heard her slight whimpers that soon hushed down once she safely curled in his arms. Her tiny face nuzzled into the crook of his shirt, near his neck as Maverick coo, “..aww sweetheart. I’m right here..don’t worry.”

It was a new kind of love that Maverick felt at the moment, he knew he would get disagreements from his friends about raising her but he didn’t care at the time. He fluttered small kisses onto her forehead and he could’ve swore he saw a tiny smile. He glances at a open file next to the carrier and the only thing that popped out was her last name. ‘Mitchell’ . Pete looked down at her and whispered, “You don’t got a first name, do you? That’s not right, sweetheart.”

He thought for a moment, trying to think of a few classic names for this little girl in his arms. His thoughts were interrupted when Tom came back in the room, taking a seat behind him, his eyes were trained on his friend and new found niece. It was the most adorable sight Iceman has ever seen in the years he’s seen Maverick. Yeah sure he seen Mav and little Bradley Bradshaw together but this was completely different from that. He rest his hand on his shoulder, leaning in to see the baby’s face. She was simply gorgeous.

“Hi princess, I’m your uncle Ice..” Tom said with a smile on his face, “..what we gonna name you?…you like a Penelope or a Nicole.”

Pete chuckled, shifting his quiet little girl who softly babbled in his arms. Mav thought for a moment, “…maybe Jennifer..Jenny?”

“Jenny? I like Penelope and Nicole better.”

“Jennifer P. Mitchell.”

Iceman smiled letting out a small joke, “I like it. But if you have another little girl who appears on our doorstep tomorrow, we’re naming her Nicole.”

“I doubt it, Ice. She’s the only baby girl in the world for this Naval family. Isn’t that right, Princess Jenny?” Maverick smiled, lifting her up as he stayed kissing her cubby cheek.

“She’s got you wrapped around your finger, Mav.”

“Just wait until you hold her, then she’ll be wrapped around your finger too.”

—

Later on the Linda returned from the kitchen after letting the roommate have a moment with the child, Maverick agreed signing the paperwork with Iceman who agreed to be this little girl’s uncle automatically. Linda Colins left both men with a baby bag and returned home at 5:45am.

Iceman and Maverick stayed up for an extra hour feeding, changing her diaper and putting sleep. Neither one of them really slept that night, taking in all the information and making room for the new attention to the house. Appears that baby Jen was a night owl, because the girl was a tricky one to get to sleep until Ice took it upon himself to sing a lullaby while Maverick took a small nap.

By the morning, 11:25am, the guys called up Slider, Carole and Audrey to tell them about the news. Slider decided to visit later that week, Carole was busy out of town with Bradley, meanwhile Audrey skipped work shortly after hearing the news and drive pasting a few red lights to the Kazansky-Mitchell household. She knocked on the door unable to believe the news until she saw it herself, believing it was kinda prank or that they stole a baby.

Audrey forgot she got keys to this house and once the door open her jaw dropped, having to pick it off the floor. A shocked chuckle escaped her lips at the sight of Iceman burping a adorable baby girl who babbled happily as if she was the princess of sun. The baby girl glowed a breathtaking smile and soft giggle utter under her breath, like she was speaking to Tom.

Maverick come out of the bathroom drying his hands after peeling on a clean burgundy t-shirt while wearing a pair of gray sweatpants smiling, “Hey Mama!”

Audrey snapped out of her trancelike state shaking her head and smiled sheepishly. “Hey—hi! So it’s true, huh? You didn’t steal her?” Audrey said, with a sunny smile taking a step over to her friends watching Maverick take the baby girl out from Ice’s arms.

“Nope. She’s mine and her name is Jenny. Jen, sweetheart, this is your Auntie Sunny! She will try to keep you out of a trouble when your toddler years arrive soon.”

“She’s adorable. Definitely your daughter, she has your eyes, c-can i?”

Maverick was more than happy, he gently set the baby in her auntie’s arms with such joy. Once the shock wiped away from her body, the love and laughter reached Sunset quicker than she imagined, little Jennifer Mitchell shined like the morning skies and babbled softly in her arms. She bounced her a bit as a small laughter escaped from Jenny’s body loving the attention and pure joy surrounding her. The baby girl was comfortable in all 3 of the adults arms, even she only spend half a day with them.

Maverick pulled out his camera snapping a couple of pictures of his daughter and her auntie, a few pictures were already taken of the small family. Pete Mitchell was already planning on buying a baby book this weekend and possibly tricky Slider into giving them a huge baby shower for they don’t have to buy too many stuff. To say Pete Maverick Mitchell was overwhelmed and overjoyed with this new found journey of fatherhood was something he couldn’t describe, especially knowing he had Audrey and Tom there every step of the way.

Thank you for reading this fic and hope you stick around for both in the future! Can’t wait to see your reactions to this haha

Fic tags: @topgun-imagines @mandylove1000 @gaminggirlsstuff @t-nd-rfoot @rooster-84 @theloveoftoms @hangmanbrainrot @msrochelleromanofffelton @hanlueluver @starkleila @gcthvile and etc.

[call-sign-shark]

✨ Cute Little Thing ✨

Summary: Based on @mischievous-thunder // Person B: *Comes home covered in blood that's not theirs*Person A, bubbling with excitement: Here comes my cute little darling!

Pairing: Pete Maverick Mitchell x OC Seven "Shark" Kriegel

Words: 554 (blurb)

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Blood. 

Thick and warm blood all over her face.

She brings her hand to her face, trembling fingers brushing her philtrum. She tries to wipe it, but  only smears the red hemoglobin to her left cheek when she does so.

It is not hers - or maybe there is a bit of her own blood too this time. After all, the dude had thrown her one nasty punch right to her nose. Thing is, she does not feel any peculiar pain in this area. Only a kind of soreness. She is numbed to the pain after years of serving as a Navy SEAL. 

She had punched him even harder in return. Her knuckles raining on his face like deadly monsoon. She knocked the fuck out of him . Okay, it was brutal but he did deserved it - she had seen him put drugs in a girl’s drink. 

No tissues in the pockets of her flight jacket. Never mind. She shrugs it off and walks through the base with her face, knuckles and white t-shirt sprinkles with deep dark red dots and stains. Fortunately enough, there are not so many people at the naval base at this time of the day. She crosses path with Phoenix, who  shoots her a worried and questioning look. Shark simply answers with a thumb up and a sharp, fang-filled smile which stretches her mouth in a crooked and slightly creepy way. Then, she makes her way to Maverick’s hangar without noticing the other pilots and soldiers’ reactions. All she wants is taking a shower.

Maverick frowns at the sound of footsteps coming closer. He drops the screwdriver he has been using to fix his plane, and grabs a towel to wipe grease and motor oil from his hands. As soon as the hangar’s door cracks open, Maverick’s emerald eyes shine. A wide smile lights up his charming face when he recognizes Shark’s silhouette. Tired from his day, he had preferred staying at the base rather than going to town to drink something. Shark went alone for he knew she was able to defend herself. Years of  being Navy Seal again. And years of Muay Thai.

“Here comes my cute little darling!”

Maverick says in a soft yet bubbly voice that immediately warms the girl’s heart. She never thought someone could be home until she met him. Her own instructor.  Shark raises her pale blue eyes towards him with a sparkle of joy. She runs to him and, almost tackles him with a hug. Mav laughs, forced to take a few steps back because of the impact but he keeps her in his arms.

“Hey hey, you’re going to break me in half.” He says, amusement in his voice. His fingers gently runs through her platinum hair.

“I’ve missed you Maaaaav~” 

“Missed you too, murder bean.” He grabs her chin between his fingers and softly raises it to look at her juvenile face. His eyes squinted when he smiles, forming adorable crow’s feet.

“Fuck, you’re so damn cute.” He almost purrs, pinching her bloody cheek.

[call-sign-shark]

THIS IS SO SHARK AND MAAAAAV! I need to write a short something with this prompt 💚

Person B: *Comes home covered in blood that's not theirs*

Person A, bubbling with excitement: Here comes my cute little darling!

[mlqueen89]

Two | Ego

i took the miracle move on drug the effects were temporary (i love you) it's ruining my life  

Fortnight by Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone | TTPD |  

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

warnings: smut, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving).    

word count: 9,776 

summary: “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions.” in which ellie has to deal with the consequences of having the best sex ever with an actual pilot who she actually has to work with. A familiar face makes an appearance to guide ellie through politics at miramar.  

A/N: guys guys guys, you are giving me liiiiife. the reception to the first chapter has been crazy. lots of jake head canon developing here. essentially, i've decided that watermelon sugar by harry styles is jake coded. for... reasons. my guy is all acts of service. 

this one was also beta read by my bestest friend, so this one goes out to jj. love you girl, thanks for reading the smuttiest part of my brain. i also apologize for the amount of taylor swift/pop culture references (srry, not srry). also, the number of videos i watched on F-14s (tomcats) and F-18s (super hornets) is cray.

working my way through the november prompts, slowly but surely! there are a few left, so if you want to request, head on over there.

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥  

Ellie groaned deeply, her face dropping to her hands as she slouched over the kitchen island from her perch on the stool.     

“I sat on his face, Yan,” Ellie mumbled through her fingers, her voice laced with the mortification of the memory from that afternoon. The way Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes passed over her, undressing her, seeing the mark he’d made on her neck and then coolly, calmly, pretending like he wasn’t put off by her presence. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck until it radiated from her cheeks. “Now I have to work with him.”  

Yan, unfazed, was busy bustling around the small kitchen, assembling her version of a “girl dinner,” which currently included an obscene number of jarred olives in a variety of colours, a smattering of mixed Harvest Snaps, Ritz crackers and a chunk of Swiss cheese she didn’t bother slicing. As she pushed herself up on her tip toes to peek into cupboards, her manicured nailed fingers reaching for a box she’d seen near the back of the space, Yan reminded Ellie of the squirrel family that lived under the deck at their old college house.  

“I dunno,” Yan replied with a shrug, nonchalant as ever, giving the box she’d retrieved from the back of the cabinet on top of the fridge a shake. “Maybe he’ll forget?”  

The remainder of her day at Miramar had been filled with facility tours, and security briefings, introductions to ground crew and the radar teams in the tower—the usual M.O. of any other airfield she’d worked on for the past six years. Routine, smooth, reflexive, comforting in its predictability after her unexpected morning.  

To her relief, she didn’t see Lieutenant Seresin again and in part, it was because she hadn’t necessarily been looking for him. Between seeing him again, being caught off-guard, her mind scrambling and having RADM Stark offer her concealer, she’d had her fill of shame and awkward interactions to last the entire week, possibly month.   

When, at the end of the day, Tony let her know that he’d be emailing her in the next hour or so about her office space, she was already thinking about how quickly she could scurry off to her car and peel out of the parking lot.  

Driving home from North Island was completed in a fugue state, doing everything she could to keep her mind off what would happen from now until whenever her contract was over in a few months and the possibility of her putting in for remote work. Canada, Mexico, Iceland… somewhere, anywhere far away from him.  

By the time she tripped through the front door, trudging up the stairs, shoulders sunk low, Ellie was glad Nic wasn’t home. She wasn’t sure she could handle the interrogation surrounding how her first day had gone (terribly) and why she had disappeared from the Halloween party so abruptly last night without saying goodbye. Both discussions would lead to the same, inevitable, infuriatingly handsome, source. Lt. Seresin. A pilot. A mistake. A five-time in one night mistake. 

When she’d instead found Yan in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards, Ellie had offloaded her previous night and the resulting day in what felt like a single sigh, a mass exodus of mismatched thoughts and side drabbles. Disaster, social and career ruin the overarching themes. 

Ellie lifted her head just enough to scoff in her roommate’s general direction. “Forget? He’s a pilot, it’s highly unlikely. Have you ever met a pilot? Those guys have egos the size of the jets they fly. There’s no way he’s going to just forget without some kind of semi-serious head trauma. Unfortunately.”  

Before Yan could respond, mouth opened in what Ellie could only assume would come next, she held up a finger, a footnote to add, “Before you say it: Bradley doesn’t count. He’s a weird… mustachioed outlier.” 

Data couldn’t track the trajectory of Rooster. Ellie had tried and failed many a time—just when she thought she had pegged him, he escaped the pigeonhole with a dogfight level of evasive maneuvering. With a lack of data or evidence, she’d been forced to accept that Rooster was just untraceable. He didn’t fit the mold of the pilots she’d met.  

“Okay, but hear me out, maybe he will forget without a smack to the dome?” Yan tapped her chin as she glanced down at her plate of smorgasbord, as if considering what was missing. “For all we know, this is his usual modus operandi and you’re just another girl in the long line of hook ups?”  

Ellie felt her stomach drop. Long line of hook ups. “Great. That makes me feel so much better.”    

Yan popped a few pitted olives into her mouth and tipped her head, gathering herself for a moment before she spoke again. “Let’s have a choose your own adventure moment: do you want friend or therapist version of Yan Like, do you want advice advice or just to vent?”  

“Are you going to bill me if I say therapist, Yan’s version?”  

“How about we split the difference?” Yan held the absurdly sized chunk of Swiss cheese in a two—handed grip, nibbling at the corner as she leaned across the island. She was never going to get out from under the squirrel family allusion at this rate. “If I was your therapist, I’d say that maybe we should look at how this serves you? What does this embarrassment, feeling it, stewing in it, what does it do for you?”  

Ellie considered for a moment, her forehead slowly coming to rest on the cool quartz countertop as if the answers could be found there.  

How did the embarrassment of working with a man she’d slept with serve her?  

Maybe the root of the mortification was the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. The intrusive thoughts, floating around her brain, still, of the man who had undone her so completely, mapped out her body with his mouth, re-wired her brain through life-altering, transcendent orgasm, one chasing another, each cascading into the next like a line of tumbling dominoes.  

Maybe her fluster was tucked behind the idea that he’d dragged sounds from her with his tongue, fingers, filled her in ways she hadn’t realized she’d been empty until he was inside of her, easing his way in as she gasped and moaned. She’d made sounds she could never have imagined making in the presence of another person, sounds she wasn’t even aware she was capable of making.  

The shame was most likely rooted in the fact that she had liked it, enjoyed every moment he’d been on her and inside of her. Touching her, playing her like an instrument, tugging at all the strings that moved her. She’d melted at the way he called her sweetheart and darlin’ in that voice of his, drawl rough and husky, while doing the things he did to her. How eager he’d sounded when he’d asked her what she wanted from him and how he’d nearly read her mind and fulfilled her needs without needing to be told. 

Ellie could only groan in response, the sound muffled into the countertop as she shifted on her stool, clenching her thighs together tightly as a warmth coiled low in her abdomen.  

The embarrassment didn’t serve her, though it did serve to remind her that she had to have her head on straight going forward. This couldn’t happen again, even if it was all she could think about, even if her body was telling her she wanted more. Her control, careful and composed, had to be stronger; it couldn’t happen again—especially not with him, not with a pilot. Maybe if she repeated it enough, hummed it to herself like a mantra, she’d get herself back on the trail leading to the summit that was the culmination of her life’s work. 

Lt. Seresin was her Voldemort. He who shall not be named. Her Darth Vader. Her Hans Gruber. She couldn’t have sex with Voldemort again. Couldn’t risk the Resistance and give herself to the Dark Side. Couldn’t let the terrorists take Nakatomi Tower on Christmas. 

“It doesn’t.” 

“Exactly. I’m not sure what just went through your beautiful noggin’ just now, but next steps: be the badass I know you are. So what? You had a spectacular night—this guy has no idea how lucky he is to tap that.” Ellie wasn’t sure how seriously she would take it if her actual therapist sat across from her and crunched on gherkin pickles, folded between a slice of prosciutto and used tap that to drive home a point. She’d let it slide for Yan. 

“Also, don’t think I don’t see it,” Yan pointed with the Harvest Snap olive hybrid in Ellie’s general direction. “I’m being nice and I’m not even going to touch the fact that you had crazy, wild sex with a guy dressed as a pilot considering your no pilots rule.”  

“In my, very feeble attempt at self-defense: Who dresses as their actual profession on Halloween?”  

“Oh, that’s just Big Dick Energy vibes, El.” Yan smirked, quirking an eyebrow, as if she was waiting for Ellie to confirm if the vibe had basis in reality. When Ellie simply rolled her eyes, Yan continued, “let’s be real though—we’re in San Diego. You could probably throw a stone and hit a minimum of three pilots in a five-foot radius.” 

Ellie propped her elbow up on the counter, resting her head in her hand, her eyes scanning the swirled pattern in the quartz to the right of Yan’s paper plate. “So, just like that? I just, what? Duplicate the BDE?” 

“More like mirror it. Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Yan nodded, using a Harvest Snap to spear an olive. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I won’t, but if I could talk about it, I’d say that I have a client who is an author, who shall remain anonymous, and he uses this crazy, hostage negotiation tactic when he wants to disarm and redirect.” 

Hostage negotiation. Great. This is what is had come to. 

Yan was right. Ellie couldn’t honestly say she was thinking straight when he’d looked at her with his green eyes and easy grin, the level of confidence with which he carried himself so goddamned attractive. She definitely hadn’t been thinking with the prefrontal cortex part of her brain when he’d touched her waist and leaned in close. 

Ellie levelled Yan with a narrowed gaze. “What would friend Yan say?”  

“As your friend who has witnessed some spectacular mistakes in your romantic track record, I’d say,” Yan paused for a moment, considering, Ellie thought, on how she might soften the therapist speak, “so what? You hooked up with him. Big deal. You didn’t know he was a real pilot. It was Halloween. You thought, reasonably, that he wasn’t. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like you have to work directly with him, right?” 

“Except I actually do.” Ellie sighed—she'd already thought about it on the drive home, if avoidance was a viable tactic for the next little while. “I’m the one with the new tech, remember? That means seeing him all the time. He’s part of the team they’ve recalled—he’s one of the best the Navy has to offer. He might need to test my tech if I have any hope of getting it off the ground.”  

Yan paused, mid bite of her cracker, processing for a moment in silence. “Okay. First—love the pun. Second, yeah, that sucks, but maybe he’s, like, cool? Like, he hasn’t been a complete ass about it yet, right?” 

“He pretended like he didn’t even know me,” Ellie muttered, crossing her arms as the memory of his infuriating smugness resurfaced, the way his eyes found the mark he’d made on her like she was his. The way she, for a fraction of a second, let him suck all the air out of the space between them. “Which, I guess is fair, since we didn’t exactly exchange names before....”  

“... before he fucked your brains out?” Yan offered, snapping a piece of Ritz cracker off between her teeth, nonchalantly, as if fucked your brains out was a normal, everyday, part of conversations she engaged in.  

Ellie balled up a nearby tea towel and threw it at Yan as hard as she could manage, and it fell woefully short on the island between them. 

“Okay, so, he’s trying to be professional. That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Yan turned her back to Ellie for a moment, heading to the fridge to grab the jug of pink lemonade from the fridge before she turned and poured it into a cup that sat on the edge of the sink. 

Ellie shook her head as Yan shook the juice jug in her direction. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—weird? I don’t know how to act around him now.” 

“Oh girl, act like it didn’t happen, obviously. We both know you’re the queen of compartmentalizing, right?” 

Ellie sighed, sweeping her hair back, unconsciously touching the concealer hidden hickey, feather-light. “This is going to be a bit harder though. I just wasn’t planning on hooking up with someone I’d have to see every day.” 

Yan propped her elbows up on the counter across from Ellie before she carefully slid the plate of crackers, olives, cheese and mini pickles toward her with a grin. “Well, welcome to what we true believers call the Frequency Illusion. You’ll see him for as long as he’s front and center in your noodle. Simple explanation. Either that or you have some karmic balance to restore.” 

Ellie sighed, a sigh that sounded more like a drawn-out lament. “You make it sound like a go around kicking puppies.” 

“As my grandma used to say—God rest her soul—” Yan continued, hearing Ellie’s comment about karmic retribution, and traced a cross over her body, turning her eyes upward for a moment before she mocked pouring one out, “pussy rules the world. You set the tone. Own it. Be confident. If someone is going to squirm, let it be him. You’re holding all the cards.” 

“Set the tone?” Ellie repeated, slowly, considering. She didn’t bother to ask why Yan’s grandma, an unassuming small-statured, Filipino lady, obsessed with backgammon and finding the freshest cinnamon scones up until the very day of her passing, would have come to such a firm stance on pussy and its power level. 

“Yeah,” Yan was around the island now, fluffing Ellie’s hair and fixing the collar on her blazer, “you’re the fucking gorgeous, brainy radar engineer. He’s just some dude who got lucky on Halloween.” 

Ellie shrugged, avoiding eye—contact with Yan. “Maybe you’re right.” 

Yan leaned forward to tap Ellie on the tip of the nose, evidently satisfied with herself. “I’m always right, girly pop.” 

“Oh, is that right, huh?” Ellie swatted at Yan as she danced away, skip-hopping over to the fridge.   

Yan grinned, piling more olives onto her plate. “You know it. Now, eat some olives and get your game face on. Tomorrow’s another day, and you’re not letting some hotshot flyboy get the better of you. Even if he’s gorgeous and a generous partner.”  

Ellie shook her head, but she picked up a cracker as Yan tapped the plate before migrating to the living room. “God, this is a mess.”  

“Eh,” Yan shrugged, dropping to the couch and patting the empty spot beside her as she nestled under an oversized blanket. “Messy is more fun. Let’s watch Love is Blind Brazil, there’s apparently this super unhinged guy, Evandro who picked this girl, Ariela, who clearly isn’t over her ex—” 

“Speaking of,” Ellie crossed the room and dropped to the couch beside Yan, tugging some of the blanket over for herself. “What happened to Frankenstein?” 

“Oh, turns out he couldn’t keep it together,” Yan didn’t bother to look at Ellie, waving the remote at the TV as she scrolled, her lips quirked up in the corners into a smirk, “needed someone with a bit more heart.” 

“You’re so ridiculous.” 

Naval Air Station Lemoore, California - 2004 

Even after hours, the Californian sun sinking low on the horizon, Lemoore Naval Air Base was alive with a low hum of activity. F-14 Tomcats rested, wings folded in against their bodies, on the tarmac like sleeping giants, the lights from nearby hangars casting long shadows across the hot asphalt. 

She’d woken from another nightmare. It was always the same, a nightmare in which her dad didn’t come home, his plane screaming through the perfect blue sky one moment and then whistling to the surface of the azure water below, no ejection seat, no parachute. Just churning waves as they swallowed the body of the grey metal, silently, until there was nothing left. 

It was why, at 8:45 PM on a hot fall Californian evening, she found herself in her Justice League pajamas, shoes tied haphazardly, sneaking around the base. 

“Dad, we’re not supposed to be here,” Ellie whispered, her eyes wide as she hustled across the airfield, her small, seven-year-old hand clenching her father’s as he snuck from corner to corner, aircraft to aircraft. Stealth mode he’d called it. In her chest, Ellie’s heart pounded, the excitement mixed with the mischievousness of it all.  

Rick “Hollywood” Neven grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at her by his side. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I know the boss.” He offered her a sly wink and Ellie could feel the anxiety ebb away slightly. She trusted him, always had. He was her dad, after all—the coolest person in the world.  

Slipping through the open hangar bay doors, Ellie’s eyes focused on the jet parked up in the center of the building. The one she’d only ever seen from a distance, her fingers laced through the chain link fence, her mom at her back, as the engines fired to life and her dad took to the air. Now, larger than life, it was here, looming large over her tiny frame. Ellie’s breath caught as her dad led her closer, the heavy scent of engine oil and metal filling her nostrils. Ground crew engineers milled about, running through their checks, but none of them stopped or questioned her dad. He was a legend here, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew him. 

Rick nodded at one of the crew members, and they moved aside as he led Ellie closer to the jet. “Come on, squirt,” he whispered, lifting her up to stand on a ladder beside the plane’s body. “Want to see where the magic happens?”  

Ellie’s eyes widened as she gazed at the jet’s gleaming surface. “This is your plane?”  

“All mine,” he said proudly, patting the side of the jet, his hand passing over his name Lt. Rick Neven and call sign, Hollywood, painted on the side just below the seam where the bonnet would connect. On the body, beside the rear seat, Lt. Leonard Wolfe, Wolfman was painted in white, his RIO.  

As she stared, wide-eyed, taking it all in, he pointed to different parts, explaining each with ease of someone who had lived and breathed this life for years, someone who could identify this machine as an extension of his own body. “That’s the engine, and those are the intakes. That right there is the radar, it’s here, in the nose too—probably the most important thing in the whole bird.”  

Ellie’s eyes scanned the instruments inside the cockpit, levers and buttons, throttles and sparkplugs. “Why?” Her face scrunched in thought.  

“Because without it, I wouldn’t know what’s coming my way. You see, when you’re flying up there, things happen fast. You need to know everything around you—what’s out there, who’s out there.” He turned, giving her a proud smile. “That’s where a good radar tech comes in. But the best radar tech?” He winked. “They’re sitting right behind the pilot.”  

“Like the RIO?” she asked, her voice full of wonder, eyes trained on her godfather’s name.  

“Exactly.” He gestured for her to step up higher, holding her waist as he lifted her into the cockpit. Ellie settled her tiny frame into the seat, her feet barely skimming the pedals in the footwell. Reaching back into the rear seat, he grabbed his helmet, the one adorned with his call sign, and the “lady butt” as Ellie called it. Carefully, he placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed on her neck, far too big, but she didn’t care. The weight of it made her feel important—like she was a part of something bigger, like she was in the cockpit with her dad. 

“Dad…” Ellie began, her voice small and muffled from under the oversized helmet as she pushed it up so she could see him. “What’s it like? Flying up there?”  

Her dad leaned against the side of the F-14, his gaze drifting out toward the open hangar doors where the night sky stretched endlessly above. “It’s like…freedom. Like nothing else in the world matters. Just you, the jet, and the sky. And when you’re up there, you feel like you can do anything.”  

Ellie’s eyes sparkled as she imagined, endless skies, horizon boundless, freedom. “Maybe I can be your RIO one day?”  

Her dad chuckled and Ellie could feel her heart swell, the thought of being here with her dad in his favourite place. He reached out and gently tapped the helmet on her head. “You’re already halfway there, kid. One day, you’ll be up there with me. I’ll be the one flying, and you’ll be the one keeping me safe, making sure we’re on the right track.”  

Ellie smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “Promise?”  

“I promise,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and Ellie could feel the pride growing in her, the thought of following in her dad’s footsteps both thrilling and nerve wracking. “Just don’t tell your uncle Wolfman. You’ll be putting him out of a job and I don’t know if the Navy is ready for two Nevens up there.” 

For a moment, it was just them in that cockpit, the noise of the hangar fading into the background as her dad told her to pull back on this throttle and showed her where the ejection handles were. Ellie could feel the importance of it, the way her dad talked about all of it. If her dad said she could do it, then she could—her hero, strong, invincible. Maybe she could be his RIO one day.   

He grinned and grabbed the straps of the helmet, giving it a loving shake. “Alright, kiddo. You got school tomorrow. Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”  

Ellie laughed as he lifted her out of the cockpit and set her down, but as they walked out of the hangar, her hand still in his, she couldn’t help but glance back at the jet.  

“I think we just found your call sign, huh?” Her dad hummed as they stepped out into the night air, the sun now gone from the sky, replaced by the moon glow of a clear night. “Eleanor Rio Neven.” 

Ellie glanced up at him, her gap-toothed grin, wide. “I like it.” 

“Rio it is then. Hollywood and Rio.” 

One day, she thought. One day she’d earn that call sign. 

Ellie glanced at the email again to stick the office assignment in the forefront of her mind, standing in front of her open car trunk, before she locked her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her pressed pants. She was thankful she wasn’t Navy; she knew her strengths fashion wise, and it wasn’t the khaki tan colour of the service uniforms. Civilian contractors had the best of both worlds.  

Grabbing the heavy box of her things, Ellie dragged it from the trunk and hefted it, balancing it on her hip as she reached for the close trunk button.  

“Comm Center 11,” the security officer barely suppressed a chuckle as Ellie used the ledge in front of the glass to hold the box while she fished out her pass, “that’s clear across the airfield from here. You’ll have to take the perimeter; they’ll be running drills at this time. Pattern’s full.”  

“Thanks.” Ellie nodded, taking a moment to clip her pass to the waist of her pants before she lifted the box and used her hip to open the door onto the base.  

Shifting the weight of the box, Ellie tipped her chin as she passed a few officers and a few of the ground crew she half-recognized from the myriad of tours yesterday. Her things weren’t heavy individually—a few office supplies, models of the tech, schematics, a monitor, her MacBook—but stacked awkwardly, they made a clumsy, unbalanced load in the flimsy box with the caved in corners, reinforced with layers of packing tape.  

The morning sun was already intense, gleaming off the pavement so she had to squint as she moved forward, all her concentration on not dropping the box as she felt the cardboard bow under the shifting weight of her belongings, the occasional silence between the sound of jet engines and shouting staff filled by the steady clicking of her heels.  

“Need a hand?”  

The voice was unmistakable, easy, with a hint of banter around the edges, the barely concealed smugness cutting through the noise of the airfield. Ellie knew who it belonged almost immediately, the feeling of recognition hitting her square in the gut before she turned.  

Hangman. 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ellie set her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the unwieldy box. Set the tone, she reminded herself, hearing Yan’s voice echo in the back of her mind. She had to hold her ground.   

Turning, her eyes landed on him immediately. He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest, the khaki tan of his service khakis was definitely doing something for him, something dangerous for his sharp features and easy confidence. He knew he looked good. She could feel herself bristle slightly, caught off-guard by how cool and collected he looked, his lips quirked into a lazy grin, almost infuriatingly amused as he took her in. It felt tailor made to annoy the living hell out of her at this specific moment. He looked ready to swoop in if she so much as tipped the box the wrong way and she wasn’t sure if that grated on her nerves, or if it was something else entirely. 

“No, I don’t need a hand, Lieutenant Seresin,” she replied firmly, adjusting her grip on the box and her resolve. She turned around again resolutely ignoring him and starting off in her original direction, the corner of the already flimsy cardboard buckling, her belongings shifting inside as the box threatened to give way any moment. 

Sure enough, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her, an easy saunter as if he had all the time in the world. “You’re a civilian contractor; you can take it easy with the Lieutenant. You can call me Jake…” he began casually, before his voice dropped just enough to add weight to his next words, “since we’ve already been… acquainted.” 

Ellie’s jaw tightened, her pace slowing until she came to a stop. The box crumpled further under her suddenly tightened grip, and she thought she heard the tape coming away from the bottom of the box. She turned slightly, just enough to level him with a glare, all heat and warning. “I’m aware of what happened. That was… before.” Before she knew he was a real pilot. Before she knew cocky and smug were his default personality traits. “This is work, not—” 

“Not what?” he interrupted carefully, the mischievous glint in his eye almost twinkling now. “Not two, consenting adults who had a good time and now coincidentally find themselves working on the same base?” 

Great. So he hadn’t recently happened upon a semi-serious, short-term memory wiping head injury. How unlucky for her. She’d have to work on quashing the butterflies causing the stupid feelings in her stomach currently. The ones that told her she liked looking at his aggravating, annoying, idiotic, handsome face and hearing the charming southern drawl in his words. What was it that Yan had said? Another girl in a long line of hook ups? 

Ellie felt her face heat and not from the sun continuing to beat down. “That’s exactly what this is, actually. Coincidence. That’s it,” Ellie lifted her chin, defiant in the face of his easy charm, her voice dipping low as a crew member zipped past them in a golf cart. “One night. A one-time thing.” 

This time, he broke into a wry grin, but he didn’t speak, and Ellie felt as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did. 

“Listen, I don’t know what your angle is, but whatever you think happened between us? It won’t happen again.” She kept her gaze trained on him, looking for the moment it might sink in. “I’m here to do a job, that’s it.” Ellie turned again, squinting against the sun as she continued on her way, her dramatic exit. She’d taken three full strides, the box betraying her confident pace, folding in as a piece of lose tape flapped in the breeze and stuck to her hand as her belongings rolled around, loose at the bottom, before Jake was at her side again.  

His eyebrow quirked up, but he didn’t look fazed. Amused, that was the more fitting word, Ellie thought. He looked entertained. By her struggle, by her refusal of his offer for help, even now as the box pitched, weight shifting oddly as the things inside moved around, uncontrolled. “My angle?” He repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t butter. His tone was teasing and light. “So, you think I have an angle? You been doing a lot of thinking about me then, sweetheart?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes hard, and she picked up her pace. She pointedly ignored his question about her extracurricular thoughts, which definitely included thoughts of him despite her better judgement, but he didn’t need the confirmation. “I don’t know what it is, yet” the box pitched, and Hangman’s hand moved to right it, but Ellie angled it away from him, the sound of her monitor being smacked by the decorative arc reactor paperweight sending her stomach into a tip. “But yes, I’m sure you have one.”  

Firmly, Ellie pushed down the memory of Halloween. The chemistry between them had been a wildfire, quick, easy, starting as something small, possibly insignificant, and then grew unexpectedly, fast, all-consuming, searing, white hot, uncontrollable, unpredictable. It was only spoiled by seeing him again and realizing that he had been telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth the entire time. He was a pilot. A Lieutenant. A pilot just like every other pilot she’d ever met. Cocky, self-assured, overly confident, reckless. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, do me a favour—don’t. You’re not fooling me.”    

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He responded, smirking as he watched her wrestle with the box each step of the way. Part of her appreciated that he let her, liked that he respected that she’d said no and turned down his help.  

Before she could deflect, Ellie felt her heel catch just enough on an uneven bit of pavement, and the box, already unbalanced, began to teeter forward, the weight of the shifting contents making it more difficult to recover as she simultaneously tried to save her things and steady herself. Instinctively, she reached out to steady it, but Jake’s hand shot out, steadying her with one hand on her elbow and the other catching the box. He was good… really good. 

“Careful there,” he said softly, all hints of ribbing gone, his eyes locked on hers. “It’d be a shame if all that attitude ended up in a broken ankle.” 

Ellie felt a flush of frustration and something else she wasn’t willing to name, his touch igniting something in her she had to fight to press down again. Stiffening against his grasp, she quickly steadied herself and once she was sure the box was as balanced as she could get it, he carefully let go. In the wake of his skin on hers, she felt a coolness and part of her missed the contact. 

“I can handle myself, thank you” she murmured, but there was less bite. She left no room for him to question her assertation as she straightened herself to stand taller. Looking him dead in the eye was a feat, all six feet of him towering over her, even with the added height of her heels. 

“Never said you couldn’t.” He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smug look didn’t fade. “But just so we’re clear, if you ever need a hand, I’m around. For whatever. Work-related, of course.” 

Ellie didn’t answer, just tightened her grip on the box, ignoring the way her heart had quickened in that split second of closeness, his hand on her arm a beat longer than necessary after she steadied herself. She turned and continued toward her office, keeping her chin high and pretending she couldn’t feel Jake’s eyes on her. 

As she walked away, she heard him call out, “See you around, Ace.” 

“303,” Ellie murmured, clicking past the numbered doors, closed and plated with names that weren’t hers. “304,” she blew out a huff of air as her eyes flicked to the next door. 

She’d broken out into a bit of a sweat by the time she’d made it to Comms building 11, her calves aching. Now she knew why that security officer had laughed at the sight of her, the sad box of things in her grip already failing. Between the pace she’d kept up, a speed between confident stride and hectic hustle to get away from the man she’d been trying to avoid, and the distance between the parking lot and here, she’d hit her workout goal for the entire week. 

“305.” 

Rigby, E. Ellie glanced at the nameplate secured to the door and used her elbow to press down on the paddle handle, maneuvering expertly to use her hip to wedge the port open when she heard the click of the latch releasing. 

Turning into the space, Ellie paused for a moment, glancing back at the nameplate on the door for half a second longer when she took in the sheer size of the office. This had to be some kind of mistake, civilian contractors didn’t get windows, especially not eastern facing windows.  

The nameplate stuck to the door still said her name. The number above the port hadn’t changed. This was 305 and that was her name on the door. 

Stepping further inside, Ellie kicked the door closed behind herself, only registering that another person was in the room when they spoke. 

“Hey, Rio.”  

The call sign hit her, broadside, and drew her eyes immediately to the source.  

The man who leaned against the corner of the window ledge on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest, was silhouetted against the bright morning light streaming in. Though his face had changed, laugh lines deepened around his eyes, the crease between his brow mostly cemented, likely exacerbated by all the young, hot shot pilots he’d watched breeze through Miramar over the years, she would recognize him anywhere. 

Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick. 

Ellie smirked as he stepped forward, taking the box from her without hesitation and sliding it onto the edge of the small coffee table, situated in front of the quaint sitting area which included a couch and an armchair. Free from the weight of the box, Ellie took a deep breath and, hands on hips, surveyed the space. “I think they made a mistake, Mav. This has to be your office. Way too big to be a civilian contractor’s, that’s for sure.”  

Maverick chuckled and Ellie could see the younger version of the man she’d met years ago behind the softened angles of his face. She guessed, in his eyes, she looked a lot different from the kid running around the airfield, causing trouble, getting in the way, herself. “Pulled a few strings. Anything for Hollywood’s kid.” 

She met his wry grin with a smirk of her own, a flash of gratitude filling her with a sense of the calm of familiarity, but she shook her head with a laugh. “Well, thanks for the royal treatment, but I think it’s a bit much.” Ellie gestured to the large space, the window behind Mav looking out onto the airfield, the grand mahogany desk waiting for a touch of personalization, an expanse of empty bookshelves behind it and the sitting area to her right.  

Her “office” at the base in Turkey had been little more than a space between two filing cabinets, open to the coffee station, water cooler and any Air Force pilot who thought she looked unassuming or unaware. She’d accepted that space as workable for over a year. This, by comparison, was at least seventeen steps up. For one, there was a door. “I was half expecting a supply closet, to be honest. Somewhere with more dust and a lot less… light.” 

Maverick closed the space between them, pulling her into a quick hug before he stepped back to really take her in, his hands framing her shoulders. “How’re you doing, kid? How’s Miramar treating you so far? Wouldn’t expect it’s anything Rio couldn’t handle.” 

“Rio,” Ellie tested out the old call sign, the second time she’d heard it from Mav in such a short time, a soft smile pulling up the corner of her lips slightly, “haven’t heard that one in a long time. I’m good.”  

She’d leave out the footnotes that included Hangman, or any possible complications that were attached to him for now. Instead, Ellie took a moment to look at Maverick, she hadn’t been expecting him to be here, hadn’t expected to feel the comfort in the presence of his easy nature. Seeing him settled the anxiety simmering beneath the surface, if only just a little bit. “So, they called you in to keep tabs on me, huh?” 

“Something like that.” A knowing look crossed his face, a smirk, the look of the old Maverick Ellie had known for the majority of her life. Cocky, self-assured, non-conformist, Maverick was the typical archetype of a pilot, at least every one that Ellie had ever encountered. “I figured I’d be a friendlier face than Admiral Simpson. Someone to get you started. I know Miramar’s not the… smoothest place to transition into.” 

Admiral Simpson. Stuffy, hard-lined, hard-nosed, Admiral Simpson. The same Admiral Simpson that had watch-checked and foot-tapped his way through her presentation the other day. The same Admiral she couldn’t help but feel would sideline her project if it meant delaying a mission for even half a minute. On the other hand, there was RADM Stark—welcoming and excited, and yet, there was something unreadable about her. Something that Ellie wasn’t sure she could trust behind the glad to have more estrogen in the room facade. 

There was a reason she had a reputation as someone to impress, there was a reason she was thriving in the man-made, old boys club that was the Navy. 

Ellie made a face, and Maverick simply pressed his lips into a thin line and raised his eyebrows quietly. Maverick understood—he almost always did, especially when it came to following protocol, or rather, breaking protocol. Maverick hadn’t ever been any Admiral’s favourite pilot—especially not Admiral Benjamin, even if his daughter, Penny, thought differently. If anyone could help her navigate the difficult politics of Admirals and strict rules of engagement, it was Maverick. Maverick who, somehow, hadn’t been dishonourably discharged… yet.  

There was no doubt in her mind she would be thankful to have Maverick and his rule-bending in her corner as the go-between. 

“Smooth is overrated,” Ellie scoffed, shrugging. “I’m here to work—maybe make a few of you Navy boys cry in the process, if I’m lucky.” 

Maverick’s laugh was sudden and loud, genuine, the grin on his face wide.  

“Good,” he nodded, approvingly, patting her arm. “Well, in the spirit of smooth in the context of work, I’ve got some updates from the Admirals. Did you want to—” Maverick nodded toward the desk, and it took Ellie a moment to understand what he was suggesting, lost in the soft, blurred edges of nostalgia.  

“Yeah, of course. Better to just dive into the deep end with this, I guess.” 

Ellie rummaged for a second and dug her MacBook from the box, doing her best to ignore that there was a fresh dent in the lid as she swept over to the desk and Maverick settled in on the other side. 

“So I’ve had a chance to go over your reports and the preliminary data from the prototype testing on base in Turkey,” Mav started, his expression unreadable, though his posture suggested a relaxed, nonchalant approach. She supposed this was the most professional he would get with her. “It’s really impressive, Ellie. Your dad, he mentioned you were top of the game, he didn’t mention that you were running circles around the rest of us.” 

“I mean—” Ellie started, she kept her eyes on the screen of her laptop as it started up, “it’s all still relatively untested….” 

She pointedly ignored Mav’s mention of her dad. Hollywood wasn’t exactly a subject she wanted to touch on right now. Especially not with Maverick. She knew where it would lead. 

“Still. Must be something promising to get them to pull you here from halfway across the world.” Mav didn’t push the topic further as she saw him cross his legs, ankle on knee, in her peripheral. “It’s going to make a big difference to a lot of people if we can get it off the ground. I’m putting my weight behind this one, Rio—that counts for something. At least the Admirals think so.” 

“I hope so.” Ellie straightened herself in her chair, MacBook finally at the ready, despite a few broken pixels in the top left corner of the screen. “How do we tackle this then? Do I want to know what kind of resources they’re allocating for this?” 

Maverick paused for a moment, his hands passing over the armrests before folding his hands. “Good news or bad news?” 

“You know me, Mav—news is news.” 

“Well, they’re giving us pilots and significant testing time. They’ve put me on the testing schedules too, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. We’ll run this as seamlessly as possible and get you the data you need to make this a reality.” Maverick’s fingers drummed on his knee, casual, calm. 

“Okay, that sounds like the good news to me….” Ellie cautiously made notes, her eyes returning to Mav as if she expected the other shoe to drop at any moment. So far, these were all workable resources. “I’ll get Records to pull the pilot files—”   

“No need, I’ve got them here.” Maverick reached to the chair beside him before sliding a folio across the desk toward her, thick with dossiers. “Fifteen pilots. They’re the best the Navy has to offer. All Top Gun graduates, all recalled for the current mission training. They’re giving us four of our choosing.” 

Ellie shrugged, her hand resting on the top of the stack of files, her thumb flipping through the first few tabs with call signs. Bob, Coyote, Duke, she nodded slowly, processing. “Well, to be honest, I was expecting far less—”  

“We have to run the testing of your tech alongside the mission training. They’re giving us two and a half months.” Maverick’s words hung in the air for a long moment, a moment in which Ellie’s eyes snapped to his and she searched for the lie there she knew she wouldn’t find. Maverick didn’t lie, he wasn’t the type. 

And there it was: the other shoe. 

Two and a half months. The initial research alone had taken years. Years of algorithm building, years of theoretical practice, years of begging for funding. Hell, the prototype alone had taken a year to create in a lab with her close oversight. Two and a half months was a drop in the ocean, a near impossibility. This was an out of the frying pan and into the heat situation if Ellie had ever seen one. “No pressure, right?” 

“RADM Stark is in our corner for now—Admiral Simpson has made it clear he’ll recommend moving forward with the mission with or without your tech,” Maverick didn’t sugar coat it and Ellie appreciated that about him—it wasn’t in his nature to soften the blow. “I think you and I would both prefer that it’s with. The more of these pilots we can bring home, the better.” 

Ellie glanced at the stack of files again, folded in the larger tan manila, and nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay then, deep ending this.” 

“Pick your top candidates based on the needs of the tech and the testing. I’m looking forward to reading your report.” Maverick tapped the corner of the desk, standing before shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Let’s say my office. Tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. Bring coffee.” 

“Careful Mav,” Ellie tutted, her eyebrow raised in a teasing way as she looked up at him over the top of her computer screen, “that sounds an awful lot like protocol. You’ve got a reputation for throwing out the rulebook to uphold around here.” 

Maverick waved her off as he headed for the door and Ellie watched him pause for just a moment, halfway out, his hand on the knob. “This isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park, kid. But if there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s you. Whether the name on the door is Neven or not—” Mav’s knuckles rapped against the solid wood, just under the name plate displaying her mother’s maiden name, “—the Nevens have a way of making things happen. You’re where you’re meant to be.” 

“Thanks.” 

Maverick offered her a small smile, cleared his throat and then stepped out of the door. “Oh, Ellie?” Maverick’s head was back through the door, his finger pointing to the shelving behind her. “I brought you a little office warming gift.” 

Ellie quickly found the small potted fern, the decorative pot it sat in painted with Be-LEAF in Yourself in neat block lettering. Ellie lifted the pot, turning with a raised eyebrow, displaying the saying. 

“Penny picked it out.” Mav shrugged, as if he himself were above the plant pun. When Ellie’s gaze didn’t shift, Mav waved a hand and retreated again. “0800 sharp, Rio. Two sugars, no dairy.” 

With a dry chuckle, Ellie turned back to the shelf, her eyes quickly finding something else where the pot had been, hidden. 

The photo in the frame was slightly faded, but the energy captured within the image felt timeless. It was a group shot, clearly taken at Miramar a lifetime ago, the California sun bright overhead, casting shadows across the tarmac where the four men stood, exuding effortless swagger. The aura of young pilots in their prime. 

Maverick was front and center, his signature aviators reflecting a blurred image of the photo taker, a familiar cocky grin stretching across his face. His flight suit was unzipped at the top, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. To his right, Ellie’s eyes focused on her dad. His posture, shoulders relaxed, mirrored Maverick’s, his smile easy but sharp, his trademark confidence that matched his call sign. 

Next to him, Wolfman, her dad’s RIO, his stance a little more casual but no less self-assured. He had an arm slung around Hollywood’s shoulder; their camaraderie apparent even through the static image. His grin was wide and mischievous, like he had just cracked a joke that made Hollywood laugh. Wolfman was always the one for jokes—always inappropriate, never failing to make her dad laugh. 

On the far left, slightly more composed but no less iconic, stood Iceman. His jaw was set, his aviators pushed up into his blond hair as he looked at the camera with a subtle smirk. Even in the informal setting, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew he was the best. 

The four of them stood against the backdrop of an F-14 Tomcat, the jet’s sleek frame gleaming in the sunlight. 

It was a snapshot of a time when they were young, fearless, and seemingly invincible—a moment frozen in time, untouched by the years and the weight of everything that would come after. In the reflection of the glass, Ellie could just make out her own face as she refocused, her eyes soft and her brow pulled together. 

Rolling her eyes, Ellie shook herself out of her own thoughts, scoffing as she snapped the picture face down, its support leg sticking up like that of a dead bug. 

If she wanted to survive here, if she had any hope of making a difference, she would need to keep her head on straight. No more distractions. 

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to leave here with something other than lint in your pockets, Bradshaw.”  

Jake grabbed the triangle and racked the balls as Rooster groaned, the wad of bills in the fold that came out of his pocket thinner than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He thumbed out another twenty and placed it on top of the growing pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table before he took a swig of beer. “Keep taking my money, Hangman and you’ll have to tell Nic why I can’t take her out on Friday.”  

“Oh, you want me to tell your girl her boyfriend can’t handle his balls?” Hangman smirked, shifting the triangle up to the foot spot on the table before carefully removing the rack. “You know, I’d be real happy to do that, Rooster.” Grabbing his cue, Jake nodded across the table, “how ’bout I let you break first then, give you a head start.”  

As Rooster leaned over the table to line up the break, Jake grabbed his beer, leaning up against the wall. The late-day sun streamed in through the windows of the Hard Deck, casting long shadows across the scuffed hardwood, the warm glow of golden hour adding a certain charm to the scrappy, Navy watering hole. It was routine by now, mission training, the Hard Deck, hustling pool for a little extra spending money, embarrassing Rooster who always seemed eager to try to prove he was better than Jake at the game. Wash, rinse, repeat. Steady pace for a Tuesday night. But tonight, Jake’s mind wasn’t on the pool game, or the growing pile of Rooster’s cash.  

Instead, it was occupied by thoughts of a particular Radar Tech who had, in two short days, carved out a space in his head: Eleanor Rigby. That surprised Jake—surprised him in ways that took the routine out of his usual one-night M.O. 

After he’d seen her that morning, struggling with the box, almost comically, and she refused his help outright, the end of the day had come quickly. Quicker than Jake had anticipated. Between the packed mission training and the maneuver refreshers, his head had been on a swivel, his eyes peeled, but he hadn’t managed to catch her again. 

The sharp crack of the cue ball breaking and scattering the striped and solids, pulled Jake’s focus back to the game. Rooster managed to sink one solid, smirking as he stepped back to find himself for another viable shot.  

“Nice shot, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his eyes twinkling as he set down his bottle on the edge of a nearby high-top table. “I think this might be the first time you’ve hit something clean all week.”  

Rooster’s breathy laugh sounded for just a moment, his eyes sizing up the next shot. “Just wait, Bagman,” Rooster murmured, leaning over to line up his cue again. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be asking me for a loan.”  

“Bold for someone down to their last twenty.” Jake smirked, chalking his own cue. He waited for Rooster to take his shot—missing a corner pocket by a hairsbreadth—before stepping in to size up the table, tutting. “Might have to start playing some tunes for tips,” he nodded over to the piano in the corner. 

They rotated between trading teasing banter and goading remarks for a moment before Jake’s inquiring mind got the better of him, swimming with thoughts of her face, the way she looked at him within the new frame that existed outside of their Halloween encounter. 

“So,” Jake started, casually, nonchalant, as he chose his next shot, Rooster having missed his solid, and bent to take aim, lining up a striped ball with the corner pocket. “We have a new radar tech or something—Rigby?” Jake played dumb, played disinterested, acted as if he didn’t know her name, pretended he didn’t like the way the mark his mouth had left on her neck stuck out in sharp contrast to her put together, professional look the other day. 

As he looked up from under his lashes, Jake could see Rooster pause mid-sip of his beer, eyebrow raised. “Rigsy? Radar Tech, Engineer I think the proper term is. She’s Nic’s best friend. Her roommate now too, actually.” Rooster set his beer down carefully, “Why? What’s your angle?” 

Rigsy. So Rooster knew her outside of work. Jake carefully stored the information, his eyes never leaving the cue ball and the line of aim with the striped ball. “No angle,” he replied evenly, taking the shot and sinking the striped ball and another in its path with ease. “Just curious. Seems like she’s got the brass wrapped around her finger already.” 

“That’s because she’s good at what she does,” Rooster said, stepping away to the bar and grabbing two more bottles of beer before he returned to the table. “Smart, like, real smart. No nonsense, she won’t put up with any crap. Not the usual type you’d chase, though,” 

Jake took the shot, and the ball ricocheted off the pocket point in a way he hadn’t expected, missing the striped ball he’d lined up with that pocket, wide. Straightening, he chuckled, leaning against his cue stick, stepping back for Rooster’s turn. “Who says I’m chasin’, Bradshaw?”  

Rooster’s response was a snort as he stepped up to the table. “Sure, man, whatever you say,” he glanced up at Jake, a knowing look crossing his face, eyes incredulous, eyebrow peaked. “You don’t exactly have a reputation for curiosity without motive, Seresin.” 

Jake smirked, but didn’t respond, moving in to take another shot instead when Rooster missed his second shot and Jake sunk two more stripes in quick succession. He felt Rooster’s gaze lingering, and despite trying to play it cool, he couldn’t shake the curiosity that had been brewing since he’d seen her on Halloween. More so since seeing her here, at Miramar again, of all places. When she’d let him come back to her place and he’d fucked her until her knees shook, he hadn’t expected to see her again. Now, now he thought about what it would have been like if she’d known his name then, what it would sound like for her to moan it, beg him for more. It was enough to drive him dangerously close to mad. 

Jake missed the next shot, his mind hazed with the thought. Stepping back, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to act uninterested. “Say I’m curious for… curiosity’s sake: what’s her deal? Anything I should know?” 

“Oh shit—you really don’t know…” Rooster raised an eyebrow, taking a deep swig of his beer, studying the label as he tried to contain his smirk, before replying. “You don’t know who her old man is, do you?” 

Jake froze slightly at that, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at the pilot across the table from him. “Her old man?” 

Rooster chuckled and shook his head, his tone low as he tapped the cue stick on the floor. “Rick Neven. Hollywood. Shot down in combat on a mission over the Gulf. Made sure his WSO got out first and ejected too late just above hard deck. Broke his back in three places. Docs said it was nothing short of a miracle he was alive, but that he’d never walk again.” 

Jake blinked, the weight of the name hitting him immediately. Hollywood. One of the legends. The same pilot whose photo was framed alongside Maverick and Iceman, Goose and Slider in the halls all around base. He took a breath, trying to process it, while trying his best to keep composure. “You tellin’ me she’s Neven’s kid?”  

Rooster nodded, continuing as if he knew the exact thoughts running through Jake’s mind. “Yeah, man. That’s Rigsy’s dad. Big shadow to live under. She’s been pretty much anti-pilot her whole life, from what I’ve gathered.” 

Jake felt the words settle in his gut, realizing just how tangled this was becoming. Ellie wasn’t just some random civilian contractor; she came with baggage, a history that had been shaped by the same world they both lived in—but from a very different perspective. And after their Halloween encounter, he suddenly understood why she hadn’t mentioned anything about it. It also explained the guardedness in her eyes, the bite in her sarcasm. 

“She doesn’t really talk about him much,” Rooster added, his voice dropping slightly, as if sensing Jake’s shift in mood. Rooster had always been good at that, even if Jake didn’t want to admit it. “Nic says it’s a sore spot. That and her folks splitting.” 

Jake set his cue down, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around it. “Damn.” 

“You’re in over your head with that one, Hangman,” Rooster said with a knowing smirk. “She’s not your usual type, and if you somehow manage to get past all those SAMs she’s throwing out, she sure as hell won’t make it easy.” 

“Wouldn’t be any fun if she did, Rooster.” Jake let out a dry chuckle, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. “Wouldn’t be any fun if she did.” 

tags bbs: @hookslove1592 @mrsevans90 @avengersfan25 @jbennsquared @dempy @obsessed-fan-alert @djs8891 @lunatygerqueen @khouse712 @alipap3 @yuckosworld @marvelouslyme96

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[call-sign-shark]

REBLOGGED FROM MY SECONDARY BLOG ~ 🦈💚

Every time someone sends me an Ask about Shark I almost cried of joy i swear, thank you sm! Don't hesitate <3

Why do they call you Shark?

Can you guess why? ~

♢ "There are multiple reasons why they call me Shark. The two most obvious reasons are my naturally sharp teeth, which give me a shark-like smile according to my squad mates, but also because of the scars on each side of my neck that make them think of gills. Got' em in Iraq. However, there's another reason behind my nickname ... When I entered the Navy, I was afraid of water 'cause I could not swim very well. They thought it hilarious, for someone who looked like a shark. Hangman often laughed at me because of that. Fortunately, Mav' taught me to swim properly."

♢ As for OP, this is mainly because it has been my favorite animal since I'm a kid and it's the nickname I choose each time I need one.

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy (Jake seresin x reader ) part 13 18+

summary : when mav can't make it to her birthing class well she has four partners in stead proving once more she lucked out when she came to san diego . jake finally home from deployment and he can't believe how he manage to get most beautiful woman to be his .

warning : fluffy , goofy smutty fun slight insecurity this is an 18+ part so minor do not even peek , grammatical errors and spelling mistakes oral (f! receiving) , pregnancy sex , p in v soft sensual sex , slight choking like barely

previous part

  She could see it on calendar clear as anything only two more weeks til her man was home being able to have him there was something she was truly counting the seconds for . one part of her just wanted to hug and cuddle and just have him  by her side and well the other part wanted to stay in bed and never leave . thing she never expected to rise as much as it did was her sex drive it was to point she felt it was almost driving  her insane. Her toy never been recharged as much and one stage she honestly thought maybe she was turning into a nymphomaniac .  the bump was truly bumping  . the swell of her belly was something she couldn’t get over she would rub the coco butter over her stretched skin . some days loving it other day not so much especially when javy called her a tiger and spent two hours apologizing when she cried over it  . To say it wasn't either of  the two's finest moments to say the least .  she did make a friend though she and lila met up more even after the class  getting decaf coffee and reminiscing of times when they could do stuff  . Mav unexpectedly Was popular In the birthing classes which honestly was surprising  although both were slightly traumatized after seeing one of the women's Home births It was probably honestly the first time he’d  seen his daughter so speechless  for a what seemed to be well that hole dau til they reach hard Deck And penny asked how it went she only looked Down at her  own parts and shuddered . 

She went into work happy a smile wide on her face As she walked Into the hangar  luke had big smile on his face completing and eagerly waiting to show her what progress  .  task she had given him knowing it will be better to visually learn head she was right .  each component put together almost perfectly and slight pride of being the teacher in situation she was even more happier.    The guys even cheered him on making the smile big and dopey . 

“ hey mini mitchell   look at you being an excellent teacher” fanboy cheered. 

“ you know that will only work til  i get married “ she mused . 

“ well i can call you jekyll and hyde cause that will only last til  the pregnancy is over” he shot back . 

“ you know i can make it look like an accident but i love your grandmother too much “ her eyes narrowed. 

“ his grandma?” 

“ i made her my abuela’s   churros  and i made her chili she used to make so now she loves my abuela and her food “ mickey rolled his eyes . “ even though i made it” he added . 

“ you nearly burned own the kitchen last cooking night and your out here making chili and shit “ javy chuckled . 

“ well you never mess up abuela garcia’s food “ he winced . 

She stood in like resting the tray on her stomach another added bonus to the pregnancy thing she found  as she was able to hold the tray of food thanks to bumpy although she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of well actually liking the nickname .  lunch and rest of the day going great she was ready to face the snobby women of her birthing class least her dad would keep them distracted . some where ok but well other still bitches who looked their noses down at her hell she was half tempted to rent a limo and show them what was what . she still wore jakes shirt and shorts knowing in it way was bringing him to the class .  she walked in the door waving to them  and yet they look like she was straggler for the street ready to steal their overpriced mats and water bottle  til she felt the ding her of her  phone pulling it out she seen her dads text . 

“ meeting can’t make it sorry kiddo x”

“ oh this is going to be great “ she huffed already texting into the groupchat to get the chili ready . walking over to a tired lila and luke she felt so stupid standing alone .  

“ weres your dad?” luke asked. 

“ meeting stupid navy “ she grumbled sitting ignoring the others that where watching her . 

“ that’s what the chili text was for “ he nodded already putting the pieces together as he pulled his own phone out.

“ is everyone ready “ the teacher called and everyone cheered . 

It was fifteen minutes in and it was already partner time so they could go through the exercise  and here she was the lone loser as they snickered as the teacher headed her way and shit it was highschool all over again .  til the door swung open and she seen the four guys she spent two month and two weeks with and  once again they came to her rescue. 

“ sorry we’re late  the building around her look the same” javy winked as he walked over . 

“ can i help you gentlemen … with anything” her teacher almost drooled at the sight of her new found brothers. 

“ we’re here with our little sister ma’am .. aint that right “ bob smiled. 

“ the adorable one is right “ she smiled maybe even tried to keep the tears at bay . 

“ well then please be seated with … your sister?” she chuckled nervously almost tripping when she walked back to the top of the class.

“ beat that michelle i got four helper and you just have your husband” she stuck her tongue out at one of women. 

Yeah suck it” fanboy joined in . 

“ thanks for letting us know” javy whispered to luke.

“  my favourite mentor was needed it “ he smirked. 

“ A+ kid “she cheered as everyone looked at her  .  “ sorry continue please” . 

She couldn’t image it  if she was told this was going to be her life well she wouldn’t have believed them . amazing friends that would spend their afternoon in a birthing class so she wasn’t alone , matter of fact they done beyond helping her making sure she was ok , she wasn’t alone   even though it was hard missing jake they made it easier to deal with knowing she was held up by friends no by brothers that constantly proved she  hit the jackpot coming to san diego .

He wanted to go home , he wanted his girl , his flumpy the one he  missed sleeping beside every night  ,  the  one he ate nearly every meal . hell he was even looking forward to meeting peanut and anyother animal she taking in if she did take anymore in .  honestly it could be a full blown zoo and he’d be happy once she was . he also wanted to be there for her 6 month pregnant and he was barely there  . granted the she found out at ten weeks so those times weren’t his fault  and  of course when he does find out he’s on ship for three months. He seen what she was like everytime he seen her and the swell of her stomach on the screen or in the care packages she would send those honestly drove him wild . she was most beautiful woman even in  rough shape from when was thrown off her bike and now pregnant round with his child .  he’d fuck his own fist picturing her under him , kissing down her …

“ hey man your drooling” rooster called snapping jake seresin of the sinful sound of her moaning out of his head.  

“ ain’t drooling god this thing is taking forever” he huffed  the day he was waiting for the one he was going to be able to see his girl  the day he was coming home . 

“ he’s right although i think this deployment sucked more with her pregnant “ nat whined . 

“ and we al have partners waiting … hey look at us being adults “ rooster chuckled .

“ who would of thought the hard deck hound dog would be settled like this “ nat teased. 

“ yeah even i didn’t see that coming but hell if i had to wait decade celibate for someone like y/n shit i would” jake shook his head. 

“ we’ve just one more hour and we’ll be home hell i can’t wait to see her myself “ rooster chuckled . 

She was excited checking over the dress  she wore something similar to the one  she wore  the first time she ever seen jake  although he did say shit she hated him for  but didn’t last long . she checked over her make up and hair bunch of times too  . saying hello to lila who was the same nervous wreck as she was .  she stood with ruby and kyle the three waiting for their partners they missed dearly . ruby took her first deployment like a champ although she did work through most of it . kyle understood what it was like doing a couple himself but he was like a chid on christmas waiting for nat . then she looked down at her phone seeing jake message saying they would be their soon   and she saw the boat coming  it made her heart swell and thankful for the invention of waterproof makeup  which would be put to the test today in more ways than one if she had her way .   it was almost agonizing waiting for the boat to dock and when it did she moved through the crowd completely excitedly to see him . three months apart felt forever as she watched each man and woman passing by. 

“ hey flumpy” was all she heard looking up her cheeks felt like they would spilt with how wide they  stretched  their he stood looking like sin at sea . fuck he looked bigger and his hair grown out it  made her mouth water and go dry all at once as she rushed through more of the grounds before crashing into his arms . those muscle  arms bigger and yet  warmer as he lift her in his arms  as she cried kissing every part of his face .  he barely put her down when they reached the truck instead placing her on the hood kissing her tenderly barely even taking in the sight of her  just to have her in his arms and when he did stand back his eyes looking down at the bump  , the swell of her stomach he filled her it had a lump forming in his throat when he leaned down kissing the clothed skin . 

“ my babies” he smiled looking up his own tears forming in his eyes . god how was he so lucky  looking at the woman he fell so hard for  and his future child still baking away . “ my beautiful girl “ he almost growled attaching his lips to his  and groan falling from his lips as a whine fell from hers. 

“ hey your in public “ a voice coughed out as they pulled back . 

“Roo” she squealed hoping down hugging him tightly for him to pull her back .

“ my little sister all knocked up “ he sniffled .  

“ jesus took that long for it to sink in “ she giggled. 

“ no it just more real” he hugged her again before jake pulled her back only for another to pull her from his hands . 

“ oh my hotstuff “ nat hugged her tightly once again jake pulling her to his side hand  rubbing up and down her side before going straight to her stomach. 

She stood trying to think straight , trying to listening  to her friends wondering how to even function and yet she felt like her brain was turning to complete mush and then she used her condition to her advantage   as she began yawning and moving her legs criss cross.  

“ hey you ok “ jake asked softly . 

“ tired and need to pee and i’m hungry “ she said softly. 

“ trust me lets let her get home and rest “  kyle chuckled pulling nat  away  . 

“ i will be home in afternoon … tomorrow “ rooster called as ruby pulled him away and jake was opening door of car for her putting the belt on her yet he caught it the way her legs clenched and the look in her eyes .

“ oh you little tease “ he groaned kissing her lips softly only for her to whine when he pulled back. 

“ peanut is having a sleepover with my dad so you will meet him tomorrow “ she was almost breathless looking over the man she loved so much and also wanted to tear apart in one go. 

“ good i’m excited to meet him but i’m more excited have you all to myself” he winked kissing her cheek before turning the key in the ignition . 

One thing she loved and hate about jake was  well he was a tease . his hand on her knee moving up and down as she was sure she would soak through the chair with the building need  .  the way her breathe hitched when she felt his hand slipping further up her leg under her dress  . she was wearing a new set of lingerie wondering if he would like it then she was thinking of when she saw herself in the mirror her body was changed so much in the three months she was gone , more stretch marks then what she had before  things were bigger before he left and the insecurity was creepy in like it was having a battle between the need for him and the need to hide herself from him .   she watched  the one story home as jake told her to wait   before he opened the door , unbuckling the the belt and lifting her like it was nothing  shouting a hello and good bye to mrs wilson before shutting the door . he carried her to the sofa sitting on the chair and holding her in his lap. Lips crashing to hers  , her hands moving to through the longer hair on his head her hands giving it a little tug eliciting a moan spilling from his lips making her wetter than she thought she could be and yet that insecurity that biting away making her movement slowing down and tears slipping down her check . 

“ hey baby whats wrong” he pulled back his eyes looking up in concern at sudden shift. 

“ i’m sorry i’m not the same as i was before and if it  too much i understand  if you don’t wanna” she sniffled . 

“ darling i am so lost right now” . 

“ i got so fat and my body” she whispered afraid of speaking louder . 

“ well for one your body is beautiful anyway so hush that …. Can i “ he asked pulling at the hem of her dress  to which she hesitantly nodded.  She lifted her arms as it fell to the floor  he took it all in hell he must of died and went to heaven it was the only way he could explain it . “ this is a work of art and look at this baby is it new” he asked pulling the straps of her bra the red lace  the cups that barely covered anything. 

 “ i got it during the week” she shyly nodded. 

“ good god  look at you look at my beautiful girl  , my future wife and mother to my baby god  maybe i should keep you like this so full of my child , these tits fuck look at them “ his hands rising up her sides before he cup  her breasts a soft whimper spilling from her lips as she felt his fingers pinching and teasing the clothed nipples making her hips buck and her back arch .  “ so sensitive my poor baby must of been hard huh?” he pinched her nipple once more before he pulled the material from her body completely . she crashed her lips against his needed to fell him closer , almost crushed against her as he moved putting her laying on the sofa  kissing down her  jaw , down her neck licking and nipping the skin god she was even more responsive to his touch , whining and  then he was begging him to do something touch her .   light kisses against the tops of her breasts  til she felt the swirl of his tongue on  twirling around the nipple  , sucking and biting that had her squirming   then he was going lower kissing the stretch skin on her stomach loving the scent of the coco butter hitting his nose .   kissing along the  top of the red lacey panties she looked like a present all wrapped up for him and him alone .  she barely register the sound of material  being ripped from her body not when the air hit her soaked folds. 

“ she is crying for me huh ? oh my poor baby look at mess you made” he cooed finger teasing up and down her soaked pussy. 

“ need you jake please .. oh fuckkk “ she cried feeling the heat of his tongue  gliding up  and teasing hitting her clit before doing it again and again. Already she was brainless her hand shoot to his head  , hips bucking  chasing his tongue as she cried for him not to stop . jake could eat pussy it should of been a crime to with how good he could make her a puddle  .   all her focus was all on him and how he was making her feel  to point every thought in her head  insecurities and all gone .  she could feel it tighten and wind up  she could swear pulled apart til it was all to much her back arching feeling his lips wrapping around her  clit  as her orgasim crashed and snapped . her legs clamping around his head as she almost screamed his name . her thighs clamped on his head and yet he didn’t care lapping up her realized like it was the source of life on his tongue.  

“ damn you i’d rather spend three months in between these legs  hell my meal here are better” he winked wiping her slick from his face and yet she was looking at him pupil completely blown and blissed smile that hell more hunger. 

“ my turn” she giggled sitting up only for him to grab her neck making her gulp and even more turned on as he leaned down . 

“ Darling you taste all you want later but now i need to bury my cock in this pussy” he almost growled as he pushed her laying down again his hand still on her throat and the dark irises so blown her eyes almost looked black . heaven it was alway heaven when he pushed his cock into her awaiting cunt .  her velvet walls stretching and clingying to him in a big to never let him go , filling her to a point of that satisfying fullness she never no one but jake could provide .   the hand the was around her throat slipping around the back pulling her up . his movement slow at first savouring the feeling of being home . hearing the cries, moans and whimpers that feel from her mouth and straight to his ears how he went three months without this was beyond him . taking in how her now even bigger tits bounced with each stroke  , how his movements got faster and faster  the hand hold her hips sliping down as  he began massaging her  clit making her almost making her brainless as she began chanting his name like it was only word she knew . the way she almost explode and her walls clenching and pulsating around his length to point all that could be heard was skin slapping and moans and groans fill throughtout the room . she felt it the way his strokes began to get sloppy the way she could fell , anticipated it and the loud groan of her name as he filled her up and his head on her chest both sweating painting messes over the sofa.  

“ welcome home “ she croaked out her throat raw from how he had her screaming in pleasure. 

“ i ain’t leaving it again” he sighed happily lifting up to kiss her softly pulling out  he stood lifting her off the sofa . 

“ what , were we going “ she yawned. 

“ shower  and bed gonna need to get some rest cause we got a lot of making up to do “ he chuckled spanking her bottom making her yelp as she kissed him on their short trip to the bathroom . 

part 14

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[writing-until-i-drop]

Hey! Call me Bet, I'm a writer who gets so absorbed in the stories in my head that I forget to do important things...like my actual job... And fun fact, my mom reads my fics (she's very supportive, it's validating and mortifying)

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Rooster x Single Mom!OC

Sneak peek

After divorcing her gay, marriage of convenience husband, Olivia and her teenage daughter move to North Island. Her daughter's one wish for Christmas? A hot step dad. And damn, if Rooster's Hawaiian shirts don't look like the perfect wrapping paper.

[Chaotic teenager daughter plays wingman | Rooster has total dad vibes | Olivia's exe just wants her to be happy | Olivia really needs to get laid | Her exe and daughter agree | Lots of domesticity | Olivia is the best mom to her gremlin daughter | Fresh start at life | Accidental pregnancy]

Hangman x Marine Corpsman-Devil Doc!OC

Sneak peek

Every time Fiona "Kitten" Reid is deployed, something bad happens. Win-a-medal type bad. And when Warlock is looking for a survivalist instructor for the Daggers during the uranium mission, he's shocked that the top recommendation from his colleagues is a young medical corpsman the Marines she served with dubbed "Kitten." After making a grand entrance at the expense of Jake's older brother and Bob's sanity, Fiona finds herself squarely in Hangman's sights. But he better pay attention in class because her lessons come from more than a textbook...

[Its classified sweetheart | Tequila makes her want to dance on elevated surfaces | Fiona has a Meredith Grey level disrespect for her own well being | Jake really wants to know how Fiona knows his brother | Fiona prepares the Daggers for being shot down in enemy territory | Warlock is a chaos enabler | Lots of Marine slang | Big Gibbs vibes | She once ran towards gunfire with a stethoscope around her neck | Bob is a great dancer | Penny will kick Jake's ass personally if he hurts her | She'll also kick Fiona's ass if she hurts him | Penny needs a raise]

NCIS! Top Gun Maverick AU

Blurb to come...

[jackiequick]

Duck, duck, duck, duck, Goose! | Top Gun Fanfic 🧸

Top Gun AU✈️

——

Pairing: Nick Bradshaw x Carole Bradshaw , Pete Mitchell & Tom Kazansky

Summary: When it came to kids Carole, Iceman and Maverick only had to worry about two. Bradley and his young brother, Dane. Then came Jenny. It seemed fit, 3 for 3! But when another Mitchell kid, came along they realized they had more on their hands. 4 for 4!

Characters mentioned/include: Audrey, Buzz, Wraith, Slider, Hazel, and the rest of the 86’ class

Timeline: Post-Top Gun (1986), Pre Top Gun Maverick

Warning: Canon character death mentioned

Fic type: Fluff and humorous, with small moments of angst

Previous fic —> Click here

———

There were moments like this where if you told Maverick and the others years ago, that kids would be part of the agenda they would’ve laughed at you so hard and through you were crazy.

But then the kids started coming over the years.

It started with Goose and Carole. High school sweethearts destined to get married and have kids of their own, where everyone can only wish to have a portion of what they had.

Of course, they had little Bradley Bradshaw or baby goose as he was nicknamed.

Adorable little blonde boy with cubby cheeks and a curious little smile that meant determination. He looked just like his father in every way, Maverick would tell his nephew that years to come.

It was great being a little group of 4. Memories made and laughs saved.

But sadly, then Goose died after a training accident while Carole and Bradley were there to visit them. Maverick felt horrible, so did Iceman, Audrey and the rest of the 86’ class. Gloomy painful days were to come after that.

However there was a flip side, a little surprise to come after the clouds were blowing away.

And that little beam of sunlight became Dane Bradshaw many months later.

Carole didn’t know she was pregnant at the time until Audrey pointed out how fuzzy she felt lately and honestly they couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

Maverick lightly joked, “Wow! I guess Goose really take you to bed.”

“Oh Mav, play nice and that was a little secret.” Replied the Carole with a smile joking back.

Sunset chuckled, “And made sure to leave a bag of surprises afterwards.”

—

Goose really did leave a bag of surprise afterwards but they didn’t know that yet until years later.

Duck, duck, duck, duck, Goose!

—

Dane Bradshaw was the spitting image of his mother with such a warmth and gentle smile to him, he was nicknamed pooh bear.

Him and Bradley were only 2-3 years apart in age, but there will be moments where they acted like they shared the same brain cell. Being silly little ducklings, surprising people with their charm and sweet tactics.

There were days Carole would come home to the kids (along with Maverick) causing a mess in the house baking. Days where the boys will go playing with water guns and end up getting Audrey’s clothes wet.

Or with Iceman, where Bradley would show their uncle an idea for an airplane to build with boxes and other items in the house. Meanwhile Dane would collect all the ideas, wanting to go big or go bold enough to shine with their plane where Ice couldn’t have the heart to say no.

Other times, Dane was the sweetest thing in the whole entire world. A gushing image is a gentle breeze holding up flowers to his aunties such as Hazel and Audrey, making get well cards for his mama. Hugging his uncle Mav and teasing his uncle Ice with a little grin.

But he was also very protective, him and his brother, being a guard dog when it comes their mother. That goes for Hazel, Valkyrie, Audrey and whatever other lady in their lives.

————

Speaking on ladies, they were surprised at the time she arrived. It was an unexpected surprise indeed as for she came at an old hour of the night. No alert, no phone call or an letter from the post man.

Just an knock on the door in a carrier held the first half of The Mitchell-Bradshaw clan. Jennifer Penelope Mitchell, or as she was nickname princess.

Don’t worry she gets a handful of nicknames later on, so do all the kids!

Pete and Ice were in total shock at the bundle of joy brought to their attention but welcomed her with open arms nonetheless.

It took Maverick a long couple of hours, even days to fully get his head around the fact he had a daughter.

It wasn’t until Carole met her and saw the cheeky little smile that she said, “Yup, Pete she’s yours alright!”

“Yes she is.” Audrey added, blowing raspberries into her cheek.

The girls fell in love with Jenny overnight, engulfed by her sweetness but since she was Mav’s kid the girl hated to sleep and very silly. According Iceman she was stubborn like her father but Audrey would say she’s stubborn like him instead.

When Carole brought the boys to meet their cousin/future best friend, Bradley was taken back by Jenny and Dane was curious rather shy about the ideas.

“Mama! Does that mean I have to share a room with her too?” Bradley asked pointed to the girl.

“Wha’ she do?” Dane added, his vocabulary and grammar not very accurate yet.

It was silly, since Dane Bradshaw was close enough be to around less than 2 years older than her but he was curious about the situation, not wanting to share the spotlight with anyone. Same thing when for Bradley, even though he was the oldest.

Carole had to correct them saying, “No boys, you don’t have to share a room with her. And she is just a baby, so she doesn’t do much yet. But I think you guys are gonna like her a lot.”

And as always, Carole Bradshaw is correct!

Since Bradley quickly warmed up to Jenny wanting to show her everything and take the girl everywhere he went like the big brother he is to Dane. Especially when Jenny got older he got to joke around, watching over her and and play with her a lot more.

Bradley nicknamed her Jenny Penny.

Dane, since they were somewhat closer in age range per say, the two were pretty close. Dane being softer, very silly toward the girl and more importantly being protective, catching up on new things with things he learned at school and playing with her a lot of the time.

He nicknamed her JenJen.

Eventually the boys would give her the classic nickname and future callsign, JenPen.

But Jenny Mitchell wasn’t the one who got nicknames, because to her Bradley was Brad Brad and Dane was Danny Boy.

Even though as the years went on, her nicknames for them changed to Chicken and Engineer.

———

Soon enough Baby Goose, Pooh Bear, and Princess had a 4th to complete the group (hopefully)…

…Daffy Duck!

Other name being used for Austin Mitchell.

If one Mitchell kid wasn’t enough, look no more to a second one! That was another surprise that left Carole, Iceman, Audrey and Maverick himself flabbergasted at the news. But it’s wasn’t an total surprise since Maverick was known for being in the dating scene a long time, falling in and out of love with several women because the attraction was a strong thing.

Like a lot things, it never lasted too long ending up in heartbreak, loneliness and confusion, thinking it was a short fling.

But as we learned that every actions has an equal opposite reaction. That resulted in his son, in which he chuckled and sighed in awe of the little smile that entered his world. He fell in love with his kid the moment he met him.

Slider joked, “Alright, either Maverick needs to do something about the love making around here or Goose had an grand ol’ conversation about bringing four ducklings with the big man upstairs when he left?!”

Iceman glared at his best friend jokingly, “Very funny, buddy. There is no way Mother Goose had this all figured out and planned for this to happened. It was just fate!”

Maverick shut them both up carrying his son in his arms and said, “Oh shut it you two! Before we know it you’re popping out kids of your own.”

Carole smiled, “My husband wouldn’t do such a thing, even if he did I think theses were gifts. Look how cute they are!”

~~~~~

Two blondes and two brunettes, all wrapped into a cute little gift baskets from Mother Goose himself.

“Yeah no Slider’s right, Nicholas Bradshaw brought down four ducking after his departure!” Audrey added a few minutes later.

~~~~~

Austin Mitchell was a spitting imagine and reminder of his father, times 10! From his brownish-green eyes to his nose, even the floppy mess of chocolate brown locks. His smile was no different, giggling about his favorite things and moving around with so much energy that he could become the next marathon runner for god’s sake.

But like any kid here, especially a kid that belongs to Maverick Mitchell, Austin was a clumsy boy knocking into everything and getting himself stuck in troubling situations. It was cute but also kinda annoying.

“A little tornado warning should come with him.” Joked Wraith once he met the boy with a smile.

Nonetheless he was loved. Jenny was only two years old when she got her baby brother, wanting to parenting him and keep the little guy out of danger with a pout. But then again, she was also very clumsy and cheeky herself so they both ended up in a little sticky situation.

Seriously, both kids were found in the kitchen once eating one of their father’s favorite sweet treat, being honeybuns, while on the floor giggling.

Iceman snorted so loud seeing his niece and nephew happily eating the dessert that his only questions was, “How did you two get your hands on it in the first place?”

“Unca Iceee!” Austin only yelled with a little smile and sticky fingers.

“You wan’ some?” Added Jenny with the similar little smile.

Other times, Austin would be the only one brave enough for certain things, dragging Bradley along to meet new people such as when they met Wraith or Buzz for the first time. Austin scared poor Wraith with his chaotic tendencies meanwhile Buzz laughed his ass off.

Plenty of times, that chaotic charm the young boy naturally held would bring a smile to the faces he meets, like when he met Ark and Hazel. When Austin finished hanging out with Hazel, she wanted to keep this boy for herself.

…but there were some moments where Austin’s shining personality mixed with the wrong crowd.

Let’s just say Ice and Mav enrolled him into little league baseball practice for one week, but midway through that same week the coach had to call Audrey to take the kid back home. Because due to Austin’s style, tiny temper and competitive nature when his team wasn’t winning, he decide to use his baseball bat and hit one of the kids from the other team with it.

The kid went as far as to chase the other children around the field in revenge and when Audrey heard that, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She knew it was a bad thing and they probably had to enroll him into a different sport, but the image in her head of her nephew chasing the other kids around like a Looney Tune character was too funny.

“Yup, he was definitely Pete’s son.” She said with a smile, picking up her nephew to take him out for ice cream and a small lecture onto how it’s not nice to hit people.

Let’s just say Audrey wasn’t the only one laughing at the news that day about why Austin Mitchell might not return to baseball practice that week.

————

Speaking of Austin, since he was hopefully the last baby for now at least, they decided to set up a color coordinated system for the kids.

That meant if gifts were given, certain items were being delivered, and everyday things like cups, hats, sweaters, backpacks, socks and or etc. each child had their own version of one.

Hell, each kid had certain days set on the calendar, where they all had to do something the other wanted. Like park, mall, trips to the beach and or going to the movie theater.

It was Carole’s idea! So there were no fighting, especially since they were all so little at the time.

Bradley’s things always had a cherry red dot, cute little red label or red post it note on them. (Sometimes apple or red-orange color)

Dane’s things always had a sunny yellow dot, little yellow label or yellow post it note on them. (Sometimes bumblebee or yellow-green color)

Jenny’s things always had a rosy pink dot, little pink label or pink post it note on them. (Sometimes lilac or pink-red color)

Austin’s things always had a sky blue dot, little blue label or blue post it note on them. (Sometimes olive or blue-green color)

And honestly, it was pretty helpful at the time when they were just little kids. Since they knew once they got older, all four of them would pick certain colors to wear, act differently for types of situations and understand the concept of what is not their stuff, don’t take.

But of course like any set of children, no matter what you did or how many times you had to lecture them about a topic, they will always fight about something. Like toys, bedding, backpacks, clothes, food and things to do together.

Like when Bradley and Dane were fighting over a certain Star Wars backpack they saw at Walmart to take for back to school time.

Or when Austin and Jenny were arguing about a DC LEGO sets they both wanted to buy, Batman or Superman sets.

They were kids! You can’t prepare for everything, so the parents always stepped in making the decision for them or had to settle on a small compromise on what’s the verdict. 

——

Nonetheless, they were good kids that’s what matters.

Yes, they were all different ages with vastly different views on things and personalities but that’s what makes them unique.

They care about their children way too much and thanked Goose for sending such a wonderful set of surprises and memories to come.

But the question that the adults tend to have on their minds was, how would the world handle their set of ducklings as they grow up?

What kind of experiences they will have?

Who will fall in love and who will get their heart broken?

Will there be friends or foes that come they’re way?

So many questions but only time will tell…

———

Thank you so much for reading this! 🎬 I know, it’s not exactly formatted like my other stories per say but it was an interesting way to introduce theses kids.

What was your favorite part? 💕

Please like, share and comment for more stuff like this! ✈️

Tags: @gcthvile @msrochelleromanofffelton @gaminggirlsstuff @topgun-imagines @starkleila @whitewiccan @comfortzonequeen @sherloquestea @theloveoftoms @mandylove1000 @mallowbee4 @rooster-84 @djs8891 @novavida and etc

[call-sign-shark]

Look at the awesome drawing @drasin made of Mav and Shark enjoying a sweet moment discreetly before flight training ;w; ! Go check their work, they are so skilled I swear <3

For those wondering, Shark is reader's best friend (and my TGM OC) in the ongoing series By the Eyes of the Storm. 🦈

Sketch commission for @call-sign-shark <3

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 3.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles (Teen Pregnancy, Absent Parents, etc.); Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: Years ago, Rooster left Cora Mitchell's life when her dad pulled his papers. And, unknowingly, he left behind something other than just his toothbrush.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Master List

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Rooster walked out of the admiral’s office with his new orders clutched carefully in his hand. He kept his head held high as he walked through the narrow halls of the USS Gerald R. Ford, heading for his quarters to pack his bag and prepare to fly back to US soil. To Top Gun. To Miramar.

The Californian town had a lot of memories—some of the best and some of the worst of his life. It was the town where he lost his dad before he truly understood the gravity of it all. It was also the town where he spent his later years of high school after his mom died. Where he learned how to drive, where he graduated high school, where he had all of his firsts with a girl—now woman—whom he hadn’t seen since he stormed out of her life.

Cora Mitchell. Maverick’s daughter.

As a result of some poor decisions at nineteen, Maverick ended up with daughter only a few months younger than Bradley. Cora’s mom wanted nothing to do with her and even though Maverick was far from fit to be a father, he would have preferred falling down 100 flights of stairs than letting his child go into foster care.

Carole quickly offered to help raise Cora and help Maverick out. And as his mom used to call them, they were built in best friends. And in the later years of high school, they were a lot more than that. Sneaking into each other’s beds and spending the nights together was fairly regular and easy for them to pull off with Maverick’s bedroom on another floor.

Of course, then Maverick pulled his papers and then he left that life, and Cora, behind completely.

Rooster entered his room and shut the door behind him, heading for his bunk. His roommate wasn’t in, still doing drills with the rest of their squad, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts. He opened the folder again, reading over the orders once more before he found his gaze shifting. Pulling out his personal bag, Rooster reached into one of the smaller pockets and pulled out a small photo preserved in laminate.

It was from a photo booth at Bradley’s senior prom. Cora sat on his lap, beaming at the camera as Rooster pressed a kiss to her cheek.

It was stupid to still be this curious about what Cora was doing with her life. After all, he was the one who broke up with her and stormed out of her life, saying all kinds of nasty things that he regretted the second that he said them. And he had to admit that he had scrolled through social media, trying to find a glimpse into her life, to no significant results.

All he knew was that she took some time off after high school and eventually graduated from nursing school. He assumed that she was still working as a nurse. And he knew that she now lived in or around Miramar. He didn’t have the guts to try and contact her when he was in town for Top Gun the first time around.

But maybe this new, and probably highly dangerous, mission would finally give him the kick in the ass to try and make things right with Cora. Even if it was just a simple apology, like a small ‘sorry,’ it would take away some of the guilt that ate away at his stomach every single time that he remembered her crestfallen expression and calls for him to come back.

Tucking the photo back into his bag, Rooster stood up and started to pack, letting his mind wander to what Cora’s life looked like now.

~~~~~

“Nicholas Peter Mitchell!” Cora thundered, marching towards the stairs, still dressed in her scrubs from work. “Get your butt down here now!”

Cora was only partially pleased to hear her son scrambling around, undoubtedly in the middle of some kind of panic due to her tone. She tapped her foot, able to picture her son’s exact expression of fear. She would have preferred that he simply told her ahead of time because then they could deal with it together, but he forced her hand by hiding it.

The sound of a door opening and a soft pattern of footsteps caused Cora to pick her head up. Her eyes narrowed when her son, Nickie, poked his head out from behind the wall with a sheepish smile. She shook her head when his expression gave away the fact that he knew exactly why she was upset. And that only caused her migraine to intensify.

“Hey, Mom. Did you have a good shift?” Nickie asked kindly, stepping out from behind the wall. “And did I mention that I love you and that you look more beautiful than usual today?”

Nickie, or simply Nick to his friends, was far from her twin. His hair was a light brown and curled at the end. His eyes were big and light brown, like someone she knew well in the past. The shape of his head and his cheekbones that were starting to emerge from the baby fat came from her side of the family, but the slope of his nose reinforced his father’s influence on his features.

But his sheepish, mischievous smile was definitely a Mitchell trait. Undoubtedly.

“When were you going to tell me that you got a speeding ticket?” Cora questioned, eerily calm despite her earlier yelling. “Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”

“Mom, I already paid it off—”

“—When were you going to tell me?” Cora demanded, not amused. When Nickie fumbled for a response, Cora straightened up. “You have had your license for a month and you’ve already gotten a speeding ticket, Nickie. That’s not funny. You clearly do not understand that your car and your license are privileges, not rights.”

“It was at that speed trap under that highway pass on the way to school,” Nickie tried to explain, but Cora was not going to give him an inch of the moral high ground.

“I do not care where you got the ticket. I care that you were reckless behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. I care that you got a speeding ticket and now it’s on your record. And I care that you hid this whole thing from me.” Cora sighed, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head at her son. “How much was it, Nickie?”

“Thirty bucks,” Nickie replied quietly.

“Well, then I think that thirty is an appropriate number of days to not need your car. And a good number of days to think about the importance of following traffic laws,” Cora stated, folding her arms over her chest. “Where are your keys?”

Nickie sighed and walked downstairs to grab his keys from the countertop. He quickly returned to his mother’s side and placed them into her open hand without a fight. Cora closed her hand and shoved the keys into her pocket.

“I’m serious, Nickie,” she stated softly, causing the teenager to turn back to her with doe eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And speeding around, especially on these roads where there’s a thousand pedestrians and everything—it’s not safe. For you or anyone else.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for having the maturity to realize that it was your bill to pay,” Cora offered her son in return, her tough exterior cracking just a bit. She rubbed her face tiredly. “And that’s probably what I get for letting your grandfather teach you how to drive.” Letting out a sigh, Cora dropped her hand from her face and turned back to Nickie. “How’s your homework coming?”

“Mostly done. I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“Good.” Cora set her purse and the mail down on the countertop. “I’ll get started on dinner after I take a shower. Work on your homework and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Cora walked into her bedroom and made a beeline for her on suite bathroom. Throwing her scrubs into her specified scrubs laundry bin, Cora quickly washed up from a long day at work. She changed into some comfortable clothes and a Navy sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. The sun started to set in the distance as Cora waited for the chicken to cook.

The distinct sound of a Kawasaki caused her to look up from the oven, frowning with surprise. Walking over to the front windows, Cora was shocked to see her dad pulling into the driveway.

“What the—” Cora walked over and opened the front door, stepping out onto her front porch. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I thought that I would drop by since I was in town,” Maverick replied, setting up his kickstand and getting off his bike.

“Why are you in town? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Cora added on, walking down to greet him. Maverick picked up the bag that he strapped to the back of his bike and pulled his daughter into a hug. But when she felt him wince, she instantly pulled back with a sharp, knowing look. “What happened now? What did you do this time?”

“Is that dinner that I smell?” Maverick asked, redirecting the conversation.

“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Cora warned him, turning for her home and pulling the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not twenty anymore? And could you at least wear a helmet once in a while?”

“Mom, who are you talking to?” Nickie yelled from upstairs.

“Your grandfather decided to drop by. Randomly,” Cora called back to her son.

A second later, there were a set of rapid footsteps echoing down the hall before Nickie appeared at the top of the stairs. His grin was immediately wide, showing the likeness between him and his grandfather, before Nickie hurried down the rest of the stairs to greet his grandfather.

“What are you doing in town?” Nickie asked, jogging over to Maverick.

“Well, I thought that it was a good idea to visit my favorite kid and grandkid once in a while,” Maverick joked, pulling Nickie into a hug despite his aching ribs

“Pops, I’m your only grandkid,” Nickie pointed out, frowning slightly.

“Still counts.” Maverick stared up at Nickie, jokingly inspecting him. “Did you get taller since the last time that I saw you? You look taller.”

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Nickie quipped, causing Maverick to turn to Cora.

“Don’t look at me,” Cora replied, gesturing to her own short stature. “Nickie over here got about three generations worth of height.”

Or, rather, he just had other genes to pull from when it came to height. And the men on the other side of Nickie’s family were all at least six feet tall, like Nickie was quickly shaping up to be. But not a single Mitchell in that household was going to bring that up.

Once dinner was finished cooking, the three Mitchells set the table and sat around, chatting and catching up since the last time that Maverick was in Miramar.

“I thought that you said that you wouldn’t be done with that project for a while,” Nickie stated, turning to his grandfather.

“Well, plans change,” Maverick replied noncommittally, glancing down at his plate.

“Because they were actually changed or because you felt the need to change them?” Cora deadpanned, cutting into her chicken.

“There might have been some . . . minor scheduling changes.”

“So, you’re not just visiting then,” Cora deduced, reaching for her drink. How she wished that it was wine instead of water.

“How long are you in Miramar for then?” Nickie asked excitedly, reminding Maverick painfully so of Bradley as a teenager.

“A few weeks. Somewhere around a month.”

“For what?”

“That’s classified,” Maverick replied, causing Nickie and Cora to roll their eyes in seemingly practiced sync. “I’d tell you, but—”

“—But then you’d have to kill us, yeah, we know, Gramps.”

“How’s school then? Still swimming and everything?” Maverick asked Nickie, changing the subject.

“It’s good. Swim doesn’t start for a few more weeks, but I’m trying to train before it. But I think I’m going to have to focus on running.”

“Why? Something wrong with the car?” Maverick questioned, looking concerned.

“No, just the driver,” Cora replied, setting down her utensils. “Nickie got a speeding ticket.”

“How bad?” Maverick asked, earning a sharp look from Cora. “I mean, that’s bad, Nickie. Don’t do it again. You have to get a little bit more driving experience before you start speeding.”

Cora sighed, holding her head in her hand for a moment as Nickie hid a smile behind his mouth. Maverick shot Nickie a joking smile before straightening up in his seat.

“But you’re doing good in school, Nickie?”

“Pretty well. Pre-calc is kicking my butt, but I think it’s supposed to get better.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to enjoy your teenage years a bit. Don’t go rushing off to try and grow up before your time,” Maverick replied, glancing over at his daughter for a moment. “Besides, I thought that you were going to try out for the surf team.”

“They want me to,” Nickie agreed, taking a bite of his dinner. “Mom’s a little scared to let me do it.”

“I just think that baseball is safer,” Cora replied softly, reaching for her drink. “Besides, between swim and water polo, you’re going to turn into a prune, Nickie. Not to mention that you go out sailing with Penny and Amelia all the time.”

“I just like the water, Mom,” Nickie stated, missing the pained expression on Cora’s face. “And besides, the baseball coach is an asshole.”

“Language,” Cora stressed, causing Maverick to chuckle.

~~~~~

After dinner, Nickie excused himself to finish up his homework. Cora and Maverick worked together to clean up after dinner and to set up the spare room for Maverick to sleep in while he was in town. But after the finished up the housekeeping, the father and daughter sat out on the back porch. Cora poured herself a glass of wine for the conversation and brought Maverick a beer.

“So, why are you really in town?” Cora asked, sitting down.

“Ice called me in,” Maverick stated, causing Cora to grow more serious instantly. “It’s a mission.”

“And not just any mission . . . is it?” Cora questioned, though she already knew the answer.

Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in for just your run of the mill mission. This was a serious mission, that was certain. And that instantly caused Cora’s blood pressure to spike in an instant. Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in unless it was something bordering on a suicide mission.

“No, it’s not,” Maverick agreed, nodding solemnly.

He looked away from his daughter for a moment, a rock settling in his stomach. It had been sitting there since a familiar face flashed on the screen in that conference room. But he knew that he had to unload it sooner rather than later.

To say that Maverick’s perspective on Rooster was complicated did not quite do it justice.

On one hand, as Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather, there was nothing that Maverick wanted to do more than to grab Rooster by his ear and give him the lecture of the century about responsibility and putting his personal emotions to the side to be a man and a father. Hell, if it was any other boy who did that to Cora, Maverick would have strapped him to the outside of the Darkstar and done a couple laps around the Earth.

But, on the other, as Goose’s wingman and the man who tried to raise Rooster, Maverick wanted Rooster nowhere near Miramar or this mission. Hell, Maverick did what he could to make sure that Rooster stayed as far away from a cockpit as possible. And that side of Maverick just wanted Rooster back in his life, safe and far from danger.

But being Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather was always the side that won out in the end.

“There’s something else,” Maverick began, causing Cora’s eyebrows to furrow with concern. “He’s involved in the mission.” Cora noticeably tensed up as Maverick added, “He’s here.”

“In Miramar?” Cora asked quietly, earning a nod from her dad. Sighing, she held her head in her hands for a moment. “Fuck.”

“Did you tell Nickie—”

“—No,” Cora interjected, cutting Maverick off. “No, I didn’t.” Not . . . not the whole story." She stared out at the backyard, out at the little swing set that Maverick and Ice built for Nickie on a warm afternoon so many years ago. “He’s supposed to be out in the middle of the Atlantic right now.”

“And I’m supposed to be in the Mojave.”

Nickie sat with his back to the wall, silently listening in on his mom’s conversation with his grandfather. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that he was already on thin ice with the speeding ticket, but he knew that his mom and his grandfather went outside to talk where he couldn’t hear them. But his mom always seemed to forget that the bathroom window was right above the patio.

“Have you seen him yet?” Cora inquired quietly, causing Maverick to nod slowly.

“Yeah, I did. Briefly. At the Hard Deck.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

Cora let out another sigh and held her head in her hands again. Maverick quickly got up from his seat, setting aside his beer and pulling his daughter into a tight hug. Cora latched onto her dad, trying to calm herself down and not shed anymore tears over Bradley Bradshaw.

But she failed. Just like she did the last thousand times.

Nickie clenched his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists. His mom was the strongest person that he knew. Life threw a thousand things at her and she somehow always managed to keep herself and him on their feet. But the second that anyone brought up his dad, she always flipped a switch.

She always broke down or went into absolute survival mode until something else snapped her out of it.

Nickie stopped asking about his dad when he overheard his mom sobbing to Penny in the middle of the night about how his dad still wouldn’t return her calls. It happened years ago, nearly a decade now, but it was still fresh in his mind. Burned there for the rest of his life. And, well, if his dad couldn’t even give his mom three seconds of his life, then Nickie wouldn’t give him an ounce of energy either.

And, hell, Nickie was a mama’s boy. And anyone who made his mom cry was dead to him. Dad or not, the fucker who never showed up for him or his mom was dead to Nicholas Peter Mitchell.

Whoever the hell he was.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

[call-sign-shark]

OC Moodboard || SHARK

"Let's cause a little trouble, I wanna contribute to the chaos."

♢ Playlist

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[bo0tleg]

Maverick and Rooster aren't going to be able to immediately fall back to what they were. They care for each other deeply, and saved each others life on the mission, but this sort of shit needs time. One conversation isn't going to cut it with those two.

Look: I like the idea of them falling back into what they were before just as much as the next person, but that's.... not what realistically would happen. And that's ok! It makes sense for them not to know what to do with each other at the start.

For the record: I'm also not blaming anyone for writing fics about them immediately going back to the father-son or uncle-nephew dynamic because, because come on. It's cute as HECK! I'd just like to think about how to explore their feelings and hang-ups about each other in dept!

They're both stubborn fucks and this has been simmering for far too long for anything to be resolved instantly with a single conversation. Bradley un-learned how to talk honestly to people the day he left, and Mav's scared about what honesty can bring. They've sat on this pot for so long they no longer feel it burning their asses, and forgot what they put in the damn thing in the first place, so they stay there. On top of it. Still burning their asses.

Bradley holds onto grudges like it's a lifeline, and one mission isn't going to change that. He listened to Mav in the canyon because he rescinded what he had said with his actions. Mav said that he 'wasn't ready' but then chose Rooster as his wingman, communicating that he is ready and that he trusts him with his life. But that was a life or death situation that Rooster was both present in and could interfere in if he so chose. He saved Mav because he didn't want him to die, and they seem more inclined to deal with it back on the boat, but it's still a long road ahead.

What happened was they rekindled their care for each other, because neither had ever truly given up on it in the first place. Mav never stopped caring and knew it, Bradley did the same without knowing. This just so happens to be the first time they're forced to deal with each other since the fallout.

Just because they care about each other doesn't erase the history that's separated them for all of this time. In fact, it probably makes it worse.

Bradley thought highly of Mav, and he didn't live up to it. Mav wanted the best for Bradley, and did what he thought would be best. Their problems came from the root of care. And it's more bittersweet because of it.

Because of it, resentment and guilt have settled over their shoulders, respectively, and it refused to go away.

They talk, and they try, but it's still not great.

Mav is inclined to just sweep it all under a rug and ignore the lump it forms on the floor. Because of his guilt, he takes all of the blame and sugarcoats Bradley's part in said blame to try and make up for it. Bradley is just as fault as Mav is, but Mav doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So instead of fixing things, they look slightly less crooked, but not entirely right. It's a 'their problem' not 'his problem'. They're both at fault, and they both need to deal with it.

Maverick refuses to give up any of the blame, and Bradley is going to refuse to take any of it.

Sure, Mav fucked up, but Bradley blew it out of proportions. Storming off and refusing to talk is a normal response, but not for fifteen years. He barely let Mav explain himself.

Everything "wrong" about himself he blames on Mav. He thinks that Mav fucked him up by breaking his trust as his father figure, so he doesn't trust anybody anymore. He thinks that him being completely emotionally stunted and sensitive to critique is Mav's fault because of the 'your not ready' comment.

Thing is, it's his own fault. It's his fault that he's been fucked up for so long because he never tried to fix what was broken. It's not Bradley's fault that Mav pulled his papers, but he threw away everything, everyone he had before because of a single (justifiable!) mistake. And he doesn't recognize it for what it is, and refuses the blame. Carting it all off to Mav instead of dealing with his own shortcomings.

Mav is aware of this (that Rooster refuses to take the blame), but agreed with Rooster in his analysis of the situation, and takes it all on himself, which is not a healthy mechanism for either of them. It pats Rooster on the head for somewhere he fucked up on, and overloads Mav with guilt that shouldn't be that intense and deep.

But they don't know this. So Mav isn't angry at Rooster, because he's blindsighted by his care.

Thing is, I want someone to be angry. I want someone to be offended on Mav's behalf because he himself won't do it. I don't know who it would be, could be a good number of people, maybe even a child OC.

For fifteen years Bradley left without looking back. He left, and Mav suffered. Someone saw that. Someone was there with him all or most of those years, sitting right beside him as his guilt grew with every holiday that went by, with every letter or call left unanswered.

The obvious option is Ice. However, I want to pull away from that option, because if Ice is dead (stay with me now) it only creates more conflict, more nuance to what's going on.

Bradley cut Mav out of his life, and it's implied that he cut out any association with him too. That includes Ice.

What if he never spoke to Ice either for those fifteen years? Ice died. Bradley went to his funeral. Bradley went to his funeral as a fellow aviator, as an underling obeying orders.

Bradley's face in that funeral was blank.

That is the face of a man watching the burial of someone he once could potentially have considered a father figure that he hadn't spoken with for fifteen years. And he's never going to be able to speak to him again.

At that funeral, I don't think he regretted it. Sad, maybe, but no regret.

The regret only hit later.

He got to mend things with Mav after the Uranium Mission and beyond, but that is no longer possible with Ice.

Bradley regretted what he did, how he neglected them for years, but he regretted it too late for one of them.

I think Brad probably ended up at Ice's grave at some point, and owned up to everything he didn't– couldn't– own up to at the funeral. And he fucking sobbed. Begged. Apologized, over and over.

This is the reason I suggested maybe a child OC, because if the child is Icemav's or just Ice's, Bradley's gonna have a warped perception of them. (Note: When I say "child" I mean that it was their child as in gender neutral for son/daughter, it doesn't necessarily mean the person in question should be an actual kid.)

Bradley's gonna see that kid as penance.

And they're gonna fucking hate him for it.

Bradley is going to look at them and see Ice, and they're gonna hate him for it. Their father is dead, and for the last fifteen years of his life he'd never been truly happy because this prick never bothered to own up to his mistakes. Not even at the funeral Bradley owned up to his shortcomings, and now all of a sudden he waltzes right back like he never left? What the fuck!

Bradley could have done this, idk like a week sooner? But he only came to his senses after Ice died. Their father died and Bradley barely looked like he cared is what they're going to think. But all of a sudden, he goes on a suicide mission and almost died and he's suddenly back? Because when his own life is in danger he changes his mind, but when Ice died he couldn't care less? What the fuck!

That man went to that funeral as a subordinate, not as the son he was.

The kid doesn't have the tinted lenses Mav has on about Bradley. All the resentment Mav doesn't feel, this kid is going to feel for him.

Bradley is going to understand their resentment because of Ice, and is going to focus on fixing that part with them, without noticing that the resentment isn't just because of Ice, it's about Mav too.

The kid is going to be pissed because they are not Ice. Bradley is going to be too worried about making it up to a dead man through his child that he's going to neglect the very much still alive man he ALSO has to make amends with.

But Ice didn't have a direct hand in pulling his papers, so Bradley understands his mistake with him (he shouldn't have cut him out over someone else's mistake). Mav, however, did have a direct hand and he's still bitter about it. And the kid sees it. They see him doing exactly that.

Bradley is focusing on the wrong thing, because he's trying to redeem himself in an impossible way, trying to answer to someone who no longer demands it.

He goes after it because the silence is a more comfortable answer than the conflict he's bound to face from someone who's still alive.

In the process, he's going to hurt Mav.

Bradley's gonna be so caught up in making it up to Ice (the one he can no longer make up to) that he doesn't think to properly make it up to Mav (the one he can still make it up to) because he thinks he has to.

Ice is gone. Ice is gone and there's nothing he can do about it. And If he'd just changed his mind earlier maybe there could have been. Admittedly, Ice still would have died, but maybe he'd have died more settled than he did. He'd have died with the knowledge that his son came back. That his son still cared. But he didn't, and Bradley hates himself for it.

So, he veers to the kid. He doesn't outright apologize other than the first time, but he's gonna treat them like either a piece of glass or a carbon copy of his father figure. Regardless, they're going to hate him for it.

It's not them he cares for, it's what he sees them as. They can see straight through his bullshit because there's no deep emotional connection there to blind them.

They could try to care and love for him for Mav's sake, but it'd be much better if it were on their own terms, that Bradley would care for them as them and not as Ice's child.

On top of that, the neglect Bradley has for Mav is humongous. And he himself doesn't see it because the resentment he feels is still there. Mav was the one who pulled his papers. He blames Mav for his own decisions.

He's alone, and he blames Mav. He doesn't let anyone in or near, and he blames Mav. But it wasn't Mav that made him shut everyone out, he did that on his own.

He hasn't thought about why Mav did what he did, choosing to believe what Mav claimed to be the reason. It's blatantly obvious that Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell of all people would never stop someone from going to the Academy because he thought they aren't capable. That's what they did to him, he's not going to do that to someone who is virtually his son.

Bradley was irrational and stuck to that irrationality for fifteen years. He used the emotional stuntedness he himself created as a guise to not actually process what happened. He refused to think about it, and still does.

He and Mav reconnected after the mission, but it's a frail margin. Bradley was more inclined to listen because he's confused that Mav cares at all. In his rage, he didn't notice that he did it out of love, and doesn't know what to do with it. The entire training, he's confused, pissed and uncertain all the while.

He still doesn't know the real reason Mav did what he did, and doesn't understand the love he still sees in his eyes. Rooster thought that he shattered everything he had with Mav when he felt, most of all cemented it with all the time spent in that state.

By the end of the movie, he knows for certain that Mav loves him, and understands that he, himself, never stopped loving Mav either, despite what he claimed.

Bradley wanted to be a pilot because of his dad. Goose wasn't a pilot. Maverick was.

The betrayal hit him harder because he wasn't running after Goose, he was looking up to Mav. He wanted to be like Mav.

And he became a pilot, even when Mav pulled his papers, even after having the person he did it all for ripped him into shreds. He still did it.

He still wanted to be like Mav. Deep down, he still saw him as a role model even through all of the repression.

But he still doesn't know why. He doesn't know why Mav did what he did, because Maverick himself refused to say why.

Mav isn't going to be doing great either. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. He shouldn't have pulled Bradley's papers, period. I know about Carole, but still. He should have communicated with Brad about it, and they'd fight about it, but Bradley wouldn't have walked out to never return then.

To worsen matters, Maverick has a horrendous martyr complex that makes him take the brunt of Bradley's resentment instead of Carole, the actual perpetrator.

Over the years, he's blamed himself more and more every year that passed, but I don't believe he ever regretted it.

He fulfilled Carole's last wish. It didn't stop Rooster from becoming a pilot. He gave both of them what they wanted.

But he's trying to protect the Carole Bradley has in his head because he doesn't want to stain his memory of her as he did with himself. This has been discussed a hundred times over, so I will try to be brief.

Mav is scared that instead of him, Bradley's gonna resent his mother. His dying, cripple mother that said that in her death bed. His widow mother who saw her husband die in the skies and didn't want her baby boy to have the same fate. His sorrowful mother that had to watch her friend, someone she considered a little brother, keep going up into those same skies and hear all the whispers the people on the ground flung upon him because of it.

So he took it all on himself. Because he sees himself as expendable in favor of her.

So, safe to say he's not going to be the one to tell Bradley the truth. Because of it, Bradley's resentment is going to continue to fester.

After the mission, Bradley knows that Mav's not telling him everything, but he refuses to talk about it so what the hell is he going to do?

They fix things well enough for them to talk to each other, but don't make it too deep in fear of opening up more wounds instead of stitching the old ones back together.

Mav thinks this is as good as he can get. Bradley is annoyed at Mav's hesitance.

Despite mending things, Bradley is still going to think all of his problems are Mav's fault. And he's a petty bitch, so he won't let it slide.

He hasn't properly processed it due to the lack of information, and can't let go because of it.

He's going to slip in dry comments about how Mav affected his mental health and life because of what he did. He's going to be cagey about everything that happened in the in between. He's not going to know basic shit about Mavericks life because he refuses to acknowledge that he was wrong in more than one way.

And Mav's gonna fucking take it.

He's not gonna say anything, not gonna even defend himself because he thinks he deserves it.

Bradley is a stubborn fuck whose pride has been hurt once, and refuses to acknowledge that it could be hurt again. He's just like Mav when he was younger, but ten times worse in the emotional department (I have no fucking idea how he managed that, but he did).

So yeah, soon enough they're going to be balls deep in miscommunication with grudges held close to their chest.

Maverick wants to communicate but doesn't want to communicate a very important piece of information that could potentially make things better and Bradley straight up doesn't want to if he doesn't have to.

Which means they're going to come to a stand-still. And someone is gonna have to interfere.

If I were to guess, it'd either be Slider or Sarah (Kazansky). Regardless if Sarah is Ice's sister or wife (up to interpretation), she knew how important Mav was to Ice and obviously cares about him too from the few scenes we got of her. Slider also knows, and it's obvious he also genuinely cares about Mav too despite claiming otherwise.

I'd honestly vote for Slider to be the one to do it, simply because he'd also see the Ice favoritism and the Mav neglect, and would pull Bradley's ear about it to hell and back. Because he also knew Goose, and this... entire thing is not something Goose would be happy about, at all. Slider has a much more subdued connection to Bradley, so he'd have no qualms about calling him out on everything.

Especially if he ever found out that Bradley said 'My dad trusted you, I'm not going to make the same mistake.' I sorely believe Slider would end up in jail if he ever heard about that one.

If Sarah were the one to do it, she'd probably be more understanding and much less violent than Slider, but she'd be blunt. That's still someone she cares deeply for they're talking about, and she also saw all of it. She wouldn't sugar coat what needs to be said, but she'd be understanding too. Not you did nothing wrong kind of understanding, but a you had your reasons to be upset kind of understanding.

Either of them would probably do this without Maverick's consent, because that's the only way to get it done.

When Bradley finally comes to know exactly why Mav did what he did, he's gonna be in shambles. Not only for Mav, but for himself.

His entire life has been built around that single happenstance and now it's gone, he was wrong. He was so wrong. He can't go back to being the way he was, he doesn't remember how he was.

He's gonna have to start over, rebuild himself from the ground up to be someone better and spare everyone in his life the suffering. Everyone in his life has suffered the consequences of his resentment. He doesn't know if he can make up for it.

To start over, step number one is apologize.

This right here is were he finally lets his ego drop, and fully apologizes to Mav. Finally owns up to his mistakes to the person that deserves it most. He's not gonna leave Mav be, he's definitely going to demand a full explanation from him and then is going to scold him for it, but he's gonna finally fully let go of the grudge he held this entire time.

That's to say, everything isn't a sea of roses.

Maverick isn't the only person he needs to apologize to, and on top of it, Maverick is probably the only one who is going to let him down easy.

Bradley is going to be on a tight leash with everybody else for a while, and they don't have any hold ups about calling him out on his bullshit. He's going to need to learn how to take critique to improve himself rather than read it as a straight up insult that he's going to get mad about.

Maverick is going to need to learn that Bradley isn't going to up and leave, and that he shouldn't hold himself to such low standards. Not only that, he's also going to need to learn that Bradley is bound to make mistakes just like any other human.

Bradley is still gonna fuck up in some places, but he's gonna be better at recognizing it. Mav's also gonna fuck up sometimes, but he's going to get better at accepting it and moving on.

With time, Mav is going to call Bradley out on his bullshit too, and Bradley is going to do the same when Mav starts doing his 'I'm less important than other people' shit.

They're going to be sad about it because they think that the reason the other does some of the things they do is because of themselves, but that's a story for another time.

They try. That's what matters.

[thegigilwriter]

Masterlist: “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary: 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Keywords/Warnings: Romance, definitely NOT slow burn, both smut and implied smut (if you’re not 18, go away), Drama, descriptive writing (more show than tell), some religious themes but not dominating (OC is Catholic), mention of hospitalization, imminent death, and missing loved one, possible inaccuracies about deployments and marine biologists.

Chapter Index

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 9.5 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 …

Disclaimer: “Danger & Star, Rooster & Hope” is a work of fiction created by @thegigilwriter and is not endorsed by the original creators, producers, or any affiliated parties of TopGun and TopGun: Maverick. All characters, settings, and events portrayed in this fanfiction are purely fictional and do not reflect the views or intentions of the original creators. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the original creators' ownership of the intellectual property and intends no infringement upon their rights. This fanfiction is created for entertainment purposes only.

I DO NOT permit my work to be reposted or copied or referred to without proper citation on Tumblr or on any other platform. As a creator and writer, I believe in the integrity and respect of someone’s work and you should too. Remember, if you don’t like what you read then don’t read it. There is a difference between being critical and being disrespectful — I believe as human beings we can articulate our opinions in an appropriate manner. Thank you.

[kathrahender]

So- I had an idea for another Top Gun AU.

The actual fic is centered in Icemav but this is the background story, to understand better Icemav's relationship. This is the first part (1/2), if you want to read the second part (2/2), read the next post.

Imagine an AU where Duke "Ember" (? Mitchell and Konstantin "Frost" (? Kazansky were the original "Icemav" ship.

At first they hated/disliked each other and they almost couldn't stand being in the same room together. And then, the two of them had to go on a mission with other pilots. In that mission, Konstantin got hit by the enemy and Duke, despite his own hate for Konstantin, didn't want him to die, so he saved him. (Duke didn't want to accept it, but part of the hate he felt for Konstantin vanished when he saw how injured he was).

Duke didn't expect their relationship to change because of that, but Konstantin became more... soft with him after the mission, and his jokes, which were meant to hurt him, became more funny, as if Konstantin wanted him to laugh with him instead of making fun of him. Although that only happened when they were alone, just the two of them. When they were around the other pilots, Konstantin acted more respectful towards Duke, but he didn't act friendly.

Surprisingly, at some moment, they started feeling other things towards each other. Both of them wanted to be more than friends, but they only shared a kiss before knowing their relationship wouldn't work. Not in a world where people would see them as "freaks" or "mentally ill". They held back their feelings, even after Duke nearly died. Konstantin saved him, (in the mission where Duke was supposed to die) but holding him in his arms, in the hospital, while he was still injured, made him realize he couldn't lose Duke. He was important to him, and he couldn't bear him dying because of them being together.

Konstantin decided to let go of him and be just friends, but their relationship didn't end well. After the mission, the day Duke woke up (because he was in a comma for a few days), one of the superiors of Konstantin told him he knew about what was happening between Duke and him. He threatened Konstantin, saying he would tell everyone the truth about them if he didn't do what he said (the superior gave Konstantin an option and didn't tell the others superiors Duke and Konstantin were something inmediatly because he didn't want to lose one of his best pilots). Konstantin had to say Duke was a traitor who tried to run away from the battle before Konstantin decided to save his life, and then the two of them were safe (If nobody ever discovered the truth about Duke's "betrayal"). He did it, but his bond with Duke broke for his actions.

They went separate ways after that. Konstantin married a woman and had a son, Tom Kazansky, as well as Duke married another woman and had a son, Pete Mitchell. (This means Top Gun would take place a few years after 1986, not in 1986. It could take place in 1992, for example).