#also rooster cos hes such a shit

[spookytreesandspicytea]

Sometimes I'm such a basic bitch with my favourite characters. Like, they're fan favourites and everyone adores them, and then sometimes my favoruites are so fucking outta pocket they're in the stratosphere.

[mrslectermoriarty]

Headcanon Series #20

I need the Daggers to have a TikTok Account, hear me out!

Coyote: "Were the Daggers, of course we look amazing in our flight suits." He does a twirl and strikes a pose. Applause behind the camera.

Cut to Halo: "Were the Daggers, of course we managed to get good callsigns." In the background someone yells “Fuck off, Egg White!”. Halo gives the camera a pointed look. “We definetly good the good call signs.”

Cut to Fanboy: "Were the Daggers, of course our CO is the Navy's greatest pilot." He holds up a picture of Maverick lying on the ground, he stumbled over his open shoelaces. “But seriously. He is.”

Cut to Fritz: "We're the Daggers, of course we've been at least once at Top Gun." The camera zooms out, so we can see the base he’s standing in front of. He does a thumbs up. “Crazy place!”

Cut to Hangman: "We’re the Daggers, of course we're the best of the best." Rooster in the background gives him the finger. Hangman doesn’t see it. Chuckling behind the camera. “What’s so funny?”

Cut to Phoenix: "We're the Daggers, of course we blackmail each other with embarassing photos." Bob is sitting in the background. He looks up into the camera and gives it a serious nod.

Cut to Omaha: "We're the Daggers, of course we look back at our academy days in shame." Fritz walks by and grimaces.

Cut to Payback, in a bar: "We're the Daggers, of course we loose a shit ton of money to each other when we play pool at the hard deck. Well, some of us." He smirks. Groaning behind the camera.

Cut to Bob: "We're the Daggers, of course we have a group chat." His phone lights up and he shows the screen to the camera. We see a group chat that gets new messages every couple seconds. “Guys? You know we’re all on the same base right now? We can actually talk to each other.”

Cut to Yale, it’s night by now and he’s standing in front of a dimly lit house in otherwise darkness. There’s whispering in the background. "We're the Daggers, of course we continue the tradition of raiding the CO's liquor stack."

Cut to Harvard, inside of a house. Looks like a living room. Everyone is standing in the middle of the room and shouting; it’s loud. Harvard looks bewildered. "We're the Daggers, of course our CO is married to an Admiral and didn't tell us about it. He also didn't tell us about one of us being his legal child." Cut to the zoomed in background where we can see a blurry figure standing in a corner with a glass in its hand. Cut to Harvard, now in selfie mode and close to his face. He whispers: “That’s the fucking COMPACFLT.”

Cut to Rooster in the same living room. He has a small, awkward smile on his face while Phoenix stands a bit behind him and looks pissed. "We're the Daggers, of course it never gets boring with us around, I guess." Hangman sneaks into the frame, kisses Rooster and runs away, yelling something like “it never does”. Rooster stands there, too stunned to speak. Behind the camera: “Wait, did he just-“

Cut to Maverick sitting in a comfortable looking armchair, elbows on his knees and a beer in his hands. He’s laughing into the camera and speaks with a soft voice: "They're my Daggers and of course they’re family." “No no no, you’re supposed to say- what, did you just call us family? Guys, Mav just called us his family!” Happy shouting erupts in the background and Maverick is being group-hugged by several aviators around him. The camera shakes and the video ends.

Beautiful inspiration, I must say…

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 18

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: The Daggers agree it’s time for Phoenix and Coyote to get their shit together

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

a/n: sorry it's late!!!!

“We need to do something about all of that,” Rooster waved his hand towards Javy and Tasha, who were pointedly not touching even though there was barely an inch of space between them. I nodded, sipping the drink Jake had gotten me before he had gone to play darts with Payback.

“On a scale of one to sitcom, how creative are we going to get trying to get them together?” 

“Sitcom, definitely. Should we lock them in a closet?” 

“Or maybe we can handcuff them together?” I suggested, thinking over just how to get the two pilots to finally take that last step together. “This is why I don’t write romance, do you think Fanboy would have ideas?” Rooster nodded, motioning for Fanboy to join us and he was infinitely more helpful. Pretty soon, we were taking notes on a napkin and trying to make sure Tasha and Javy didn’t get suspicious. 

“What are you three doing?” Jake asked, kissing my temple as he came up beside me. 

“Keep it down, dude,” Rooster shushed him, looking around to make sure our cover wasn’t blown. “We’ve almost got it.” 

“Got what?” Payback rolled his eyes, Jake leaned closer, taking in all of the scribbled notes scattered between five or six napkins.

“Operation Phoe-oyote?” 

“Actually, it’s Operation Sitcom now,” Fanboy points to the circled name, “It’s less obvious.” 

“We’re debating whether or not Phoenix remembers how to pick handcuffs,” Rooster narrowed his eyes pointing at Daisy, “Because apparently someone taught her how.” I groaned, running a hand over my face.

“I mean I remember how but I also practice, I don’t know if she would remember. Maybe we can just hide all her bobby pins and paper clips?” 

“Wait, you know how to pick handcuffs?” Jake asked, surprised. I giggled, cheeks burning. “And you practice?”

“It’s for my books, I had to learn how it worked,” I explained but Jake’s eyebrows didn’t descend,

“That explains once, Wildflower. Not practicing,”

“Well, sometimes I have them handcuffed in weird positions and I need to know if they can get themselves out, so I handcuff myself like that and then try it for myself.” 

“So you spend a lot of time in handcuffs?” Rooster asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Kinky.”

“Shut up,” I threw one of the napkins at him. “I think we should nix the handcuffs.” 

“Handcuffs?” Tasha’s voice scared me, we had all been too distracted to notice her and Javy approaching the table. The three of us co-conspirators quickly grabbed all of the napkins, shoving them into our pockets. Tasha raised her brow at us but didn’t mention it. “Do you think I can still pick them faster than you?”

“Probably,” I laughed, getting up from the table, “Anyways, I think I’m done for the night. Jake?”

“Right behind you, my little locksmith.” I rolled my eyes, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bar. 

Jake took me back to his apartment, carrying me inside despite my protests. I knew he had no problem lifting me but I still wasn’t the biggest fan of it, even though I had to admit it was hot knowing just how strong he was. 

“You know, I do have two feet that work, right?” I teased him as he fumbled with the keys, refusing to put me down while he unlocked the door.

“But if I’m not carrying you, I can’t do this,” Jake’s head dipped down, nuzzling my breasts and I shook with laughter.

“You’re ridiculous!” 

“You love me,” Jake laughed, carrying me the rest of the way to his bedroom. It looked a lot better than the first time I had stayed over, Jake had let me have my way with it, adding decorations and a new comforter, making it feel homier and less spartan. 

“Yeah, I kinda do.” Jake set me on my feet and kissed me. I sighed against his lips, relaxing into him with my hands on his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath his plain tee shirt. 

“Are you ready for bed or do you have some more scheming to do?” Jake asked, gently pressing kisses all over my face. I giggled, letting him carry on until he stopped, waiting for an answer.

“I can scheme while we cuddle if you turn on the fan.” He chuckled, giving me one more kiss before going to turn on the fan while I stripped down, pulling on one of his tee shirts to sleep in. 

“Love seeing you in my clothes,” Jake mumbled, face buried in my hair as we cuddled in bed. “What would you think if I left some at your place so you can wear them all the time?” I kissed his chest, thinking it over, my heart beating like crazy. It was just a little thing, having his clothes in my dresser, it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, he already had a toothbrush in my bathroom but that was a necessity, unlike his shirts. “Baby?” 

“Yeah, okay,” I whispered softly, kissing his chest again. “I’ll make space for them tomorrow.”

X

“Do they really think we can’t see them?” Javy asked, foot brushing against mine under the table. The squad had planned a dinner out at a fancy restaurant in town but when I had gotten there and given Rooster’s name, the waitress had led me to a table for two and I knew what was happening. 

“They really think they’re slick,” I tried to hide my smile, sipping a glass of wine. It was obvious what they were doing, trying to force Javy and I into taking a new step in our friendship, relationship, whatever it was. 

We had slept together once on deployment a long time ago and had been circling each other for years, somewhere between friends and strangers, until the uranium mission had brought us together for good. I mean, he was a genuine good guy, caring, handsome, and had a sense of humor that had me tearing up at times. What if talking about it, acknowledging whatever this was between us, ruined what we already had?

“Are we going to talk about it?” Javy asked, reaching across the table, tracing my knuckles with his finger. I took another sip of wine, “We don’t have to if you’re not ready.” Javy’s puppy dog eyes made my heart melt, “I’ll wait.” 

“I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” I shifted my hand so that he could hold it properly. It was the first time we had actually held hands and it felt so good. “Oh my god,” I groaned, eyes shutting in embarrassment. “Rooster is taking our damn picture.” 

“Let him,” Javy chuckled and when I opened my eyes, he was leaning across the table, “But let’s give him something better to take a picture of.” I rolled my eyes but closed the distance between us, kissing him for the first time in forever. There were a few cheers of excitement but I could barely hear them, tasting the whiskey on Javy’s soft lips. 

“Maybe we can skip dessert and go to my place?” 

“How about we get dessert to go that way we have something to eat between rounds?” Javy kissed me again,

“You were worth waiting every second, Natasha Trace.” 

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @nervousenemyduck @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @hookslove1592 @closetspngirl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @closetspngirl @shanimallina87 @owenniasstars @cevansbaby-dove @caitsymichelle13 @bigstrongblackheart @mrsevans90

Next Chapter

[lewmagoo]

Bob would send you dirty thots if he wasn't too busy wrapping your legs around his hips and pressing you against the wall of the Hard Deck patio so he could slide right on in. You'd send the thots yourself if you weren't too busy meeting him stroke for stroke before coming all over his cock. The moonlight was the only thing lighting up the area, but at least there's enough that you could see the look on his face when he finished too. Y'all really need to stop doing this risky shit, just sayin'. You're gonna get caught.

Byyye!

everyone assumed the two of you were taking a moonlit walk on the beach. that was bob, ever the romantic. sweet and kind and thoughtful. the kind of guy that bought you flowers just because. the kind of guy who told you how beautiful you were every single day. the kind of guy who left love notes on the bathroom mirror for you to find in the morning. but he was also the kind of guy who couldn’t get enough of his wife’s sweet, sweet cunt. no one would clock him as the type to be anything other than vanilla when it came to romps in the sheets. however, bob floyd was anything but vanilla. gotta watch out for those quiet ones, after all.

it was his idea to get some air. he didn’t like how stuffy the bar had become. it smelled too strongly of alcohol. the song rooster was banging out on the piano sounded a little too loud. his comrades were a little too drunk. the two of you were the only sober ones in the room, it seemed. while bob was perfectly unbothered if you consumed alcohol, you chose not to, simply because in your mind, it was no fun if only one of you was drunk. instead, the two of you would cozy up in a corner together with a shirley temple and people watch. tonight, however, the people watching grew boring. so outside you went, hand in hand. it was completely innocent, until bob pulled you into the shadows.

“wanted you all night,” he murmured against your mouth as you gladly kissed him back. you leaned back to raise a brow. “ah, so that’s what this is. you just wanted an excuse to get in my pants,” you teased. he shrugged, stealing another kiss. “can ya blame me? you’re irresistible, honeypie.” your back hit the outside wall of the building. you were just hidden enough that no one would immediately suspect anything, but if they decided to come in for a closer look, you were screwed. bob didn’t seem to care, however. in a hurried frenzy, he undid his slacks, and you shoved your hand down into them, wrapping your fingers around his half hard cock, stroking him to fullness. in the meantime, be shoved your dress up, pulling the crotch of your panties aside before he plunged his fingers into you, pulling a squeal from you as he curled them upwards, building a rhythm until your slick was coating those digits.

he slid them out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean before he reached down to align his cock with you. his mouth was on yours, swallowing your sharp gasp as he pushed into you in one fluid motion. the pinchy stretch took your breath away, and you clutched his shirt tightly in your hands. “s’big,” you squeaked. you were pretty sure you uttered that word every time he fucked you. but you couldn’t help it. it was the truth, and he loved to hear it, it spurred him on. “and you take it like such a good little wife,” he cooed. what followed wasn’t slow or drawn out. it was rushed, a frenzy of need and desperation, mouths swallowing each other’s moans as you each chased your high. but bob wasn’t selfish. he’d be damned if he didn’t make you come first.

you might’ve been embarrassed over how quickly you finished, if it wasn’t for him rendering you brainless, fingers circling hurriedly around your swollen clit. the thrill of potentially being caught, coupled with the eroticism of it all, brought you over the edge at record speed. “c-co-coming,” you squeaked into his mouth, and he held your trembling form close, soothing you as you fell apart, trembling fiercely in his strong arms. as your head lolled to his shoulder, his hands came down to grasp your hips, pulling you back down onto his cock. a few deep thrusts later, and he was spilling his release within you, biting down on your shoulder to keep from crying out. his hips stuttered, pumping into you a few more times before he finally fell still against you, chest heaving, breathing labored.

moments later, he lifted his head to look at you. his hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed. there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. the bastard. “mm, that was quick,” he hummed in amusement. “think i made ya come in record time.” you hid your face against his neck. “couldn’t help it. felt too good,” you murmured. “i know. such a sensitive baby, huh? get my cock inside ya and you lose your mind,” he teased. you nodded, because it was the truth. “and i love it,” you admitted. he smiled. “so do i, honey. can’t resist your sweet little pussy.” soft lips kissed yours again, only to swallow your whimper when he eased his softening cock out of you. he pulled your panties back into place and said, “if you can be a good girl and hold it all inside you ‘til we get home, i’ll make you come on my tongue.”

and how could you resist an offer like that?

[planetpiastri]

“permission to lean in?” “permission granted.” w rooster cos that sounds just dorky enuf for him 💘

ruby i really leaned into the dorky here i hope it shows<33 i hope u like this even tho u don't go here hehe | [wc - 1.2k] | join my prompt party!

“And so I was like, oh, shit, they are definitely into me. This is your moment, Bradshaw! Don’t fuck it up!” Rooster said, dropping his vocal register to represent his inner monologue as he recounted the story of his most recent failed date. “So I looked them in the eyes—gave ‘em the look, you know—and I asked if I could kiss them, and they said—get this—they said, Well, I wanted you to until you asked.”

You couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that burst out of you. “Are you kidding?”

“I wish!” he exploded, gesticulating wildly. 

“So what did you do then?” you asked.

“I didn’t know what to do!” he said. “I think I said something super intelligent like, Oh, okay, and then we stood there awkwardly for a second and they were like, Okay, I’m gonna go in now, and I said, Okay, and then they just…left.”

You pressed your hand to your lips to stifle your giggles. “Is it safe to assume that they haven’t called you back?”

“Yes, y/n,” said Rooster flatly, turning and fixing you with a dull stare. “They obviously haven’t called me back.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, your stifled giggles descending into embarrassing snorts. You stopped on the sidewalk, one hand covering your mouth and one clutching your knee as you bent at the waist, trying to recover from your fit of the giggles.

“Okay, okay,” said Rooster. You could tell by his tone that he was also fighting back a laugh. “Get it all out now.”

Your friendship with Rooster was a delightfully unexpected bonus of moving into your new apartment. He rented the room across the hall, and you’d met him on your very first day, when he graciously offered to help you carry some boxes up the stairs since the elevator was broken. After you’d moved in, he’d offered to take you for a walk down by the waterfront and show you around your new area. Pretty soon after that, nightly walks by the reservoir had become your new normal. 

Conversation came easily with you and Rooster, in no small part because of his endless catalog of dating fiasco stories. It seemed like every single week he had a new story about how some date of his had ended with a crying waiter, red wine on a white dress, or a decidedly unsexy scraped knee. You’d never met someone with such a talent for being bad at dating.

This new story really took the cake, though.

“I’m sorry,” you said, finally catching your breath and leaning against the fence looking over the water below. “I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“I would have been offended if you hadn’t,” said Rooster, which just made you laugh again. He stood next to you, just close enough that your shoulders would occasionally brush, and loosely laced his fingers together, draping his forearms across the railing. He sighed. “Is it me? Am I losing it? I used to be good at this.”

“It’s not you,” you said sincerely. “Honestly, if someone thinks asking for consent ‘ruins the mood’ or whatever…that’s a red flag.”

“That’s what I thought!” he blurted. “I think it’s kind of hot if someone asks before they kiss you.”

“Me too,” you agreed, determinedly not looking at him when you said it. The day Rooster realized that you were silently wishing that you’d be the one he asked out on a disastrous date was the day you’d probably move to a different state.

It was quiet for a moment, and you began to feel nervous, worrying that you’d said the wrong thing. But then Rooster asked, “How do you usually do it?”

“Wh-what?” you asked, turning to look at him in alarm.

He winced. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be weird. I’m trying to gather information. You know? You don’t have to answer, that’s awkward.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly, choosing to focus on the starlight dancing on the water instead of the warmth of Rooster’s shoulder pressing against you. “I mean…it’s been a while, I won’t lie. But usually I wait for some kind of signal—like the look you mentioned. Then, if I’m feeling bold, I go for the ol’ lean-in. Kind of like asking without asking, you know?” Your cheeks grew warm. “This one time, I was feeling really confident, and I just said, I really want to kiss you.”

“Whoa,” said Rooster. “How’d that go?”

“It worked.”

“Yeah, I bet. That’s hot.”

“Um. Thanks.”

“Oh—shit, I didn’t mean to—sorry, that was weird. I shouldn’t have said that.” Rooster took half a step away from you, and you immediately missed his warmth.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said, hoping he couldn’t hear how your heart was racing. “I don’t mind. Really.” You sucked in a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to say. “The main line is, asking permission is cool. It’s hot. It is sexy. So you shouldn’t think it’s a problem on your side. Just…keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll find the right person.”

“Hm,” said Rooster, but that was it. He stepped back next to you, and when you glanced over, he was staring at your face with a furrowed brow, like he was thinking really hard. That scared you a little. Had you said the wrong thing? Had you given yourself away? Shit, you totally had. You’d totally just blown this whole thing.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Oh, god. You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to look away from him. “O-of course.”

His mustache twitched as the corner of his mouth pulled into half a cheeky smile. “Would you count this as a date?”

All the breath left your lungs like you’d just been punched in the gut. “What?” 

He blinked, his smile dropping. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I definitely shouldn’t have said that. That was so stupid of me. I—”

Before he could pull away again, you grabbed his sleeve, holding him in place. Your stare was frighteningly intense as you demanded, “Would you count this as a date, Rooster?”

“Maybe,” he squeaked out.

“Oh, my god,” you gasped, clapping your hands to your cheeks. “I’m an idiot. I’m a moron. This is totally a date, isn't it? Oh, my god.”

“I just ruined this, didn’t I?” he asked, sounding tired. His head sagged on his neck, his broad shoulders deflating.

You grabbed his sleeve again, your grip insistent. “Bradley,” you said sternly, “you didn’t ruin anything. I thought—I thought—I don’t know what I thought.” You paused and then asked softly, “You like me?”

He stared at you then, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Of course I like you,” he breathed.

"Oh," you whispered. "That's nice."

This time when his mouth stretched into a crooked smile, you weren’t as scared. He squared his shoulders, turning to face you fully. His voice was husky and thick with amusement when he asked, “Permission to lean in?”

The laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Your fingers loosened in his sleeve, resting gently on his bicep. “Permission granted,” you answered.

As the lights twinkled over the water and Bradley Bradshaw stooped to kiss you for the first time, you’d never felt stupider. But you also couldn’t think of a time when you’d felt happier.

[here4tripitaka]

JTTW chapter 55: Tripitaka and the sexy scorpion spirit

The title really says it all:

So let’s recap. Tripitaka has been abducted by a demon who wants to have sex with him. He’s on his own this time - unlike last week, when all his mates were around to help him deal with the queen, who also wanted to have sex with him.

So Tripitaka is in the demon's cave, and the disciples are hanging around outside.

Sandy seems a bit over the whole rescue dynamic. He figures that Tripitaka can take care of himself, and that sex kidnapping is not that much of an emergency:

On the other hand, Wukong isn’t confident Tripitaka will pull through, and Bajie thinks it’s hopeless. The whole mission hinges on whether Tripitaka cracks and sleeps with her. Cos if he does, they're packing up and going home:

Well, Sandy was right. Tripitaka ACES it. The scorpion spirit is coming on strong, but Tripitaka just isn’t interested:

Note his forthright, stubborn attitude and conspicuous lack of crying. Contrast last week where he was turning red, looking away, physically shaking and crying:

WHAT IS THIS CHANGE OF PERSONALITY?

Either it's character growth (which has somehow occurred in the time it took for the scorpion spirit to teleport Tripitaka to her lair) or my theory (possibly based on a bit of wishful thinking) is that it’s influenced by whether Wukong is around or not.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love Tripitaka with Wukong. I love their potentially codependent relationship and the male-damsel-in-distress dynamic. Tripitaka is the most hopeless one of the group AND their undisputed leader. It’s amazing. I’ve never seen a male character lead a male group by crying and constantly requiring rescuing. I’m here for it.

But. Interestingly. When Wukong isn’t around, I feel like Tripitaka goes, “stuff it, I might as well save it,” and he calms down and just deals with stuff matter-of-factly.

I will admit he still cries ONCE:

Okay, twice:

Okay. So maybe I'm wrong. But on the whole, there is a lot less “clutching my handkerchief crying” sort of energy.

Anyway. When Tripitaka knocks back the scorpion spirit, the disciples decide he’s worth rescuing:

So basically, they deliberately abandoned him and left him alone with a demon overnight to shit test him.

They try to bust him out, but they don’t fare too well against the scorpion spirit’s sting. What are they to do? Don’t even worry: Guan Yin has got their back.

I love Guan Yin. You know where you stand with Guan Yin. There’s no praying and sitting around anxiously, wondering if she’ll come through. She’s already on it. Having trouble with a scorpion spirit you can’t conquer? Don’t worry:

And that guy is Orion.

Who turns out to be… a giant… rooster?

My reaction was, “Huh?!”

First I kind of assumed Wu Cheng’en was just having fun making up magic powers for random animals. But no! 

From my very scientific googling, it seems like maybe chicken > scorpion is actually a thing. TIL.

As a tangent, roosters got me thinking about alarm clocks, and how people used to wake up before alarm clocks were a thing. That took me down a rabbit hole, and now I’m discovering that candle clocks were a thing in ancient (ancient-ish?) China. Because apparently roosters are unreliable rogues and may crow at sunrise, but may also crow at 3am just cos they feel like it.

Behold:

So that’s that. But let’s circle back to something. I couldn’t help but notice that, in this chapter, Tripitaka calls the scorpion spirit a “powdered cadaver”:

Why so harsh? It isn’t cos of her looks. The narrator is pretty clear that she’s attractive. And it seemed uncannily like last week, where Bajie called the Queen of Women State a “powdered skeleton”:

It seemed a bit rich coming from him, when he clearly found her attractive:

I was starting to wonder if it was some kind of ancient Chinese insult for beautiful women when I found this journal article. It seems like, basically, the skeleton reference came from (separate but overlapping) Taoist and Buddhist practices of remembering that hotness is merely a superficial, meaningless property of the transient material world. Or something like that.

So, good on you Bajie and Tripitaka for sticking to your Buddhism. But… maybe just don’t say it OUT LOUD to people’s faces next time. Sure, stick to your asexuality, but no need to get personal about it!

I wonder if the queen and the scorpion spirit got the reference or if they were just like, “What the heck? I’m not that skeletal or powdery! YOU’RE skeletal and powdery!” We’ll never know.

And now, in no particular order, I wanna give a shoutout to some of my favourite miscellaneous moments from the chapter.

I love how the characters put so much emphasis on good manners, even when rushing around magically bashing people up. Wukung rocks up at Star God Orion’s place unannounced and asks him to drop everything and help him with something that is really not Orion’s problem - yet Orion refrains from telling him to get stuffed. Instead, he just worries that Wukong will think he’s rude if he doesn’t invite him in for tea:

Also, the wild swings between dramatic whining and understated stoicism. Bajie gets stung painfully on the snout, but doesn’t want to make a big deal of it to Orion:

Indeed. I, too, like to communicate my severe injuries only in a roundabout way, in the course of apologising for not being able to uphold proper etiquette.

Loved this sweet poem about Wukong as a majestic bee:

And learned that you’re not a babe unless you have spring onion fingers:

Some things went over my head, though. What do you mean, puns about meat buns and water pudding? I assure you, Tripitaka is not the only one who didn’t get it:

Even after reading Yu’s footnote about it:

As for my least favourite moments, Bajie is still being a chauvinistic so-and-so, calling women sexist words with disturbing enthusiasm. And Orion loses points for agreeing with Bajie wholeheartedly, instead of, you know, talking to him about his choice of language. But enough of that. Tripitaka has transcended the temptations of powdery skeletons, and it’s on with the journey.

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

—

Credits: The images above are either AI, or random pictures from the web that I’ve captioned for this, or a Frankenstein of both. They are not original. The AI is a mix of VEED.IO and Stable Diffusion. As for the images, they should turn up with reverse googling, but ask if you’re curious and I’ll dig up sources. Disability means I can’t draw at the moment, but honestly this turned out to be pretty fun anyway. Thank you dear internet for this bounty of meme-able images.

[itsyassbitch]

✈︎A plus one✈︎ Chapter II

Chapter I

Summary: Bradley has always been the single friend of all of his friend groups. However he’s tired of everyone trying to set him up with random women until one day he asks you to be his plus one to his friends marriage so they stop bothering him about getting a girl. What happens when you both start liking this lie you’ve been telling people? Warnings: None at the moment; probably smut, alcohol consumption, a little bit of angst, cursing, ...

Chapter Two

In that bathroom’s shower, you were questioning all your life choices. How you, Lieutenant Y/n Y/l/n, at thirty-three years old stable woman, accepted the childish task to be your coworker fake little girlfriend? What has gotten you to even accept something like that? Of course, Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t someone you’d be ashamed of daring. He’s lovely; funny; and very handsome. That is exactly what the problem is, he’s your friend, a really good friend, but he is also a very attracting man and the fact of sharing a bed with him for a whole week wasn’t really soothing.

You are sure that you are going to over-think everything that happens during this week. Not because you want him to be attracted to you but by the fact that you are scared that seeing that side of you will make him underestimate your qualification to do your job. You still are co-workers, and you’d say that the Navy more than any job is a very competitive environment. You have always done your best to be as professional as could -even with your teammates- so what could happen if your aptitude of judgement is doubted because you’ve left someone from your work milieu have access to the real you?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Bradley knocking at the bathroom’s door. “Viper, are you good in there? I’ve tried knocking several times, but I didn’t get an answer from you. You’re in there for almost one hour already and I really need to pee.” “Oh yeah, shit, give me one minute and the bathroom is all yours” you utter while leaving the shower. You dress up very quickly, so you don’t have time to dry you hole body, making some parts of you pajama shorts stick to you tights, same with your belly. Your hair is dripping wet, so you wrap it in you towel and open the door.

“There you go, sorry I didn’t hear you, I’m just exhausted.” You tell him, feeling embarrassed that he almost peed himself because of you. “Don’t worry, I’ll survive. You should go to sleep now; I’ll try my best to not make any loud noise and wake you up” he replies entering the bathroom and closing the door. You go to bed still drying your hair and you feel how chilly the weather actually is, so you decide to take a pair of socks and a hoodie to warm yourself up a bit.

When you’re done putting on your hoodie, Rooster comes out of the bathroom and goes to the living room, and you follow him. “Aren’t you going to sleep?” you ask him as you sit on the couch arm. “Yeah, but I’m a little hungry so I’m just looking for something to eat before going to bed. Do you want something?” “I mean, yeah, if you find something in here let me know” “I was thinking about ordering in room-service” “do you really think they make room-service at two am Bradshaw? “Why not? Were in Hawaii baby, you can have anything you want here” he says proud of himself while you were a little flustered with the new nickname.

Turned out they do make room-service at two in the morning, but you and Bradley had order a cold sandwich because the kitchen was obviously already closed so you took a chicken caesar sandwich while he took a tuna mayonnaise one along with two beers. You were both eating on the living room couch while watching The Vampire Diaries -He made you rewatch the episode he missed while he was sleeping.

“Do you realize that you’re eating while watching tvd at almost three in the morning right? You’re practically a fangirl already. You just need to drool at Damon Salvatore and your part of the fandom” you warn him while taking you beer and taking a sip. “Damon is the bad boy, right? I don’t know why you girls are so crazy about him, he’s just one more random white dude who looks like he’s horny 24/7” “Please, don’t disrespect Ian Somerhalder in front of me ever again or else you’ll suffer the consequences” you stare at him with a fake threat stare “Sorry ma’am, not doing it again” he says raising his hands “Good. And we like him because he knows he’s sexy and doesn’t try to hide it” you say shrugging and he only stare at you while nodding.

“I think we should try to sleep now. When do we have to meet your friends?” You asked while collecting the wrappers and beer cans and Bradley was cleaning the leftovers. “We are supposed to meet them for breakfast. I mean, if we wake up in time,  I’m drained from all of my energy right now”. “Do you want me to put an alarm? I’m probably wake up at seven. Or least try” “It’d be cool if you woke me up at the same time as you” “No problem!”.

As both of you went in direction of the bedroom, Rooster took out his hoodie and you couldn’t help but stare at his body. He really had a Greek god type of body, that you couldn’t deny. As soon as you realized that you were staring, you looked away disconcerted, cursing your own eyes for being so shameless.

The moment he realized what you were looking at and how embarrassed you, he quickly apologized “Sorry Y/n, I wasn’t expecting it to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I didn’t have the chance to change since we arrived here”. He quickly reached for his pajama shorts. “I don’t usually sleep with a shirt on because I get really hot at night. But if you prefer, I can put a random shirt on…” “What? No, no, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it. But really, get yourself comfortable, I’m not a young girl who can’t bear a shirtless man anymore” you said with a little grin. “Alright then, Lieutenant Mature Woman” he said laughing.

He then went into the bathroom to change and when he came back, you were already under the sheets, leaving him the window side. “I see madam has already chosen to let me get blinded by the sunlight for the hole week” he said while only your head was  sticking out of the blanket. “Don’t be dramatic, the curtains are blackouts” you say, already starting to fall asleep. “Night, Viper” he said laying down next to you. “Night Rooter” you answered, already half asleep.

The next morning -if you call it that, according to how late you slept-, you woke up thanks to the alarm you had put on the night before. Before you could get used to your surroundings, you felt a weight on your waist and something pressed against you upper back and as you tried to get up, you felt it pull you back to bed. As you looked behind you, you saw Bradley trying to hide his face from the sun against your skin, his arm wrapped around you as he held you closer. You felt his body warmth all over yours since he was spooning you, attached to one another.

He was still sleeping, and you tried to get out of bed without waking him, but he didn’t to want to let you go so you called his name softly. “Rooster” you tried a first time, but he didn’t seem to have listened to you, so you tried again “Bradley, we got to get up or we’ll miss breakfast…”. It is only then that he starts waking up, looking around until he sat up on the bed with a sleepy face and disheveled hair. While he stretched, he asked you “what time is it?” and you answered that it was 07:05 in the morning. “I’m going to go brush my teeth really quick and you can have the shower for yourself. I know you didn’t have time to wash because of me yesterday. Just try not to make us late” you informed him as you entered the bathroom.

A few minutes after, you exit the bathroom, leaving him room to take while you get yourself ready. You decided to something simple: white high waisted jeans shorts; a beige tank top; a green floral shirt over it and white converse and some basic jewelries and sunglasses. You opted to put only a little bit of makeup on since it’s still morning, only a bit of concealer, blush, mascara, and some cherry lip balm.

Once you finished getting ready, you sat down on the couch waiting for Bradley, also giving him some privacy to change. About two or three minutes later came join you in the living room, wearing khaki pants, a with plain t-shirt and one of his usual Hawaiian shirts over it. It was already 07:20 so he asked you “Are you ready?”. “Yep. I was just waiting for you” you answer as you stand up”. “Let’s go then” he says guiding you outside of the room before locking the door.

As soon as you arrive in the hotel restaurant, you can immediately spot his friends because they were all at one big table at the end of the room. A few seats were still available, so you assume you weren’t the last ones to get there.

As they spotted one of you, a blond girl stood up and came walking towards you. “Bradley! It’s so good to see you!” she says hugging him and then turning to you. “And you must be Y/n. Bradley talked a lot about you!” she hugged you the same way she did to Rooster, and you hugged her back. “He did?” you asked looking at him. “Of course! I’m so happy he finally found someone, you’re so pretty! I’m Kate by the way, I’m the bride.” She states smiling at you. “Thank you! You look gorgeous too. Congratulations for your wedding!” you say holding Bradley’s upper arm, trying to not make it awkward. “Thank you so much. I’m so excited! Oh, Thomas is at the buffet, he wanted some croissant, but he’ll be back soon. Meanwhile you can sit down and start taking your breakfast” she says touching Bradley’s arm and returning to the table.

You both sat at the end of the table, in front of Thomas and Kate, where you saw your names in little tags. Quickly, Thomas returned to the table and greeted you while presenting himself to you. While everyone small talked about nothing and everything, Kate caught you to say, “Luckily I saw the mistake on your reservation in time to change right?” she started, and you didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Sorry, what mistake?” you answered while glancing over Bradley, who was too busy chatting about some baseball game with Thomas and a guy named Theo. “Oh, you didn’t know? I saw on your reservation that you were supposed to have two single beds instead of a double one in your room. By chance, I always check the reservations before travelling to be sure and this time I did for all of you too” she replied seeming to be relieved that everything was working out well not only for her and Thomas but her guests as well.

You really wanted to be mad at her for taking a little bit of your intimacy always, but you knew better that to do so. She was trying her best to make everything perfect for everyone and obviously didn’t know that you and Rooster weren’t really a thing, so you simply said “Oh my god, really? That was so thoughtful of you!” while returning her smile.

 You must have answered a bit louder than you had done for the whole meal because it caught Bradley’s attention, who turned to you, placing his arm on the back of your chair. “What’s going on here?” he asked looking at both of you. “Kate was telling me she fortunately was able to change our reservations when she saw they’d give us two beds instead of a double one” you answered laying you hand on his bicep that was behind you, turning to face him and giving him a fake little smile.

“Well thank you Katie, it would be really odd to stay separated for so long” he tells her, smirking at you “Don’t worry Brad, I know how little mistakes like this are the worst. Plus, I didn’t want you to stay away from your woman that long” she replies and wink at you. At that moment you try something new to see if it will work. “Oh, don’t worry Kate. Even if he wanted, he couldn’t stay away from me. The only way for him to have a good night of sleep is cuddling little a little baby” you say while holding his face into your hand and making eye contact.

You notice that he’s blushing at the same time as Kate and she says, “Oh my god look at him blushing right now, that’s so cute!!” and you just laughed, turning to look back at him. He just stares back at you totally flustered and then he comes closer to you until his face is hidden behind your neck. At first you don’t know what to do until you feel his breath behind your ear, giving you goosebumps. You then decide to comb you hand through his hair while looking at Kate and smiling as she takes a photo of both of you with her disposable camera.

For the wedding, every guest received a disposable camera personalized for the occasion. During the week, everyone is supposed to take nice photos for them to make their weeding photobook. After taking your photo she said “Here, give me your phone so I can save my number on it and take yours too. You looked so cute, I had to pic, I’ll send you a copy if you want”. “Yeah, sure, I’d love that. Thanks!” you say as Bradley lifts his head, looking at you and then returning his attention to the boys.

After breakfast, you all agreed to explore the city. You were really excited by the beach, but you knew that there were a lot of beautiful spots too. You agreed to not stay too long outside because a lot of you were tired because of the flight. Bradley and you went up to your room so you could freshen up your makeup and change into something else.

Rooster decided to but jeans shorts with his white shirt with yellow flowers on it along with his golden chain that somehow matched his hair color. You chose to change into a white tank top and a long purple floral skirt. You also changed your hairstyle and decided to tie it up in a messy bun just so the temperature outside wouldn’t be to hard to handle. You also replaced your converse to white sandal, trying anything to be the most comfortable possible.

You both went down to the hall waiting for everyone since you were the first ones to be ready. He then asked you “Hey Viper, do you think we should like… hold hands? I mean, when we’re with them, maybe it would be suspicious if we didn’t” and you answered him “Yeah, it would definitely be weird if we didn’t. I mean we can also pay attention what they do while outside, so we don’t look like fifth graders holding hands awkwardly”. “We are awkward actually but yeah, if you say so, we should definitely do this” “Hey! I’m not awkward” you answered as if you were offended, and he laughed. “Yes ma’am, you’re totally right”.

Everyone gathered in the hall and were ready to go so he looked behind him searching for you, and he finds you he reached to take your hand. At first you looked at him and then at his hand. Taking a deep breath, you moved toward him and took his hand in yours giving him a little smile. He stared at you for a little while and asked, “Are you ready?” and you didn’t say anything, just nodding, giving him the green light to start your charade. You already know it’s going to be a long week…

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I hope you liked it. I know it's still not perfect but I feel like it's already better written than the first one. Please don't hesitate to give me tips on how to improve this fic x) xoxo <3

[themorriganwitch]

Top Gun: Maverick Kink Headcanons

Summary: Headcanons for 5 kinks 5 particular Daggers have

Words: 1k 

Characters: Bradley Bradshaw, Natasha Trace, Jake Seresin, Bob Floyd, Pete Mitchell, also includes some IceMav

A/N: Includes NSFW Content, 18+ only MDNI!!, English is not my first language, so there will be mistakes. 

Masterlist 

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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw 

-   Choke kink – on the few occasions where he let you take the lead and let you bounce on top of him, he wants nothing more than your tiny fingers wrapped around his throat. And when you squeeze him just right – he could come in that exact moment.

-       Daddy Kink – I don’t know why, maybe it’s just the vibe he gives or maybe it’s me wanting to call him Daddy, he definitely has one. Amen.

-       Overstimulation – God, how he loves seeing you completely messed up, tears straining your cheeks after he gave it to you so good again and again and again.

-       Impact Play – How he loves watching your ass jiggle, your flesh red and hot from where he put his hands.

-       Breeding Kink – Nothing he would ever think about during his frat boy years but after finding his soulmate he cannot imagine something sweeter that seeing you pregnant with his child.

______________________________________

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

-  Breeding kink – that man wants to see your belly round and your tits swollen. Could be the southern boy from a huge family in him or just him in general. No matter what – that man wants to see you pregnant with his child.

-       Cockwarming – Jake being the touchiest human on planet earth loves nothing more than feeling your walls hugging him perfectly close, especially after coming right back from a long deployment.

-       Edging – He’s a teasing piece of shit. Nothing gets him more going than hearing you beg for his cock.

-       Exhibitionism – slipping his hand between your thighs while sitting at dinner with Rooster and his girlfriend knowing only, he can feel the wet patch on your panties even though you are in a room full of people, that’s probably the best dinner he ever had.

-       Brat Taming – Mouth ‘Make me’ at him, after he admonished you several times for you teasing him on a navy ball and will fully loose his shit as soon as you come home.

_________________________________________

Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell  (Most of these involve IceMav)

- Rank Kink – oh how Mav adores when you call him Captain. But he adores it way much more calling Ice by his rank when the admiral rewards him for not annoying the shit out of Cyclone.

-       Spit Kink- That man likes to get messy in the sheets, add some dominance vibes to it and he is a happy man.

-       Threesomes – Not with everyone of course but he would lie if says that he never thought about you, Ice and him getting messy in the sheets.

-       Switch: With everyone but Ice, Mav is probably the dominant part. But as soon as him and Ice are alone, he fully submits to his Admiral, knowing he would never regret it.

-   Brat Taming: Ice taming Mav after he spend another day driving Cyclone and the whole Navy insane – it’s not a headcanon but universal.

__________________________________________--

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd 

- Dom / Sub dynamic – being always underestimated by his co-workers and superiors Bob loves nothing more to come home after a rough day and reward someone for doing exactly what he tells them to do. And he will always take such good care of you.

-       Bondage: he might look innocent with his birth control glasses and everything, but he goes absolutely feral seeing you tied up and helpless (fully consensual of course) in front of him

-       Voyeurism – you, laying spread wide open on your shared king size bed while he sits on a chair across the room, watching you touch yourself and moaning his name – that’s how images heaven

-       Brat Taming – Polite and kind bobby loves nothing more than showing his brat of a girlfriend how to behave correctly when escorting him to a navy ball.

-       Aftercare – it’s not really a kink but since our beloved backseater is someone (honestly unsurprising) who likes it wild in the sheets, he knows how important it is to take good care of you after you’re done. He always has some water and snacks stock in his drawer next to the bed and he always cleans you up softly before he cuddles you until you fall asleep in his arms.  

______________________________________________

Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace

-  Choke Kink – the thought of you pressed under her, her hands lightly squeezing your throat while she rides you with her favorite strap on – that’s what helps her to keep going through a tough workday.

- Rank Kink – kinda similar to Bobs Dom/Sub thing – being one of the few female aviators who graduated top gun Nat had always to keep up with her co-workers not taking her serious and making fun of her (*Cough*Hangman) she absolutely goes feral if you call her “Lieutenant”, while she serves you.

-   Edging – She’s incredibly similar to Jake when it comes to this (not that this is something she would like to hear)

-       Sensory Deprivation – After a long day of flying and always being ultra-focused on watching the environment up in the air, Nat highly appreciates to be blindfolded and just let her other senses work while you make her feel good.

-       Switch: Phoenix is a classic Switch – on somedays when she had to boss new Top Gun students around, she needs to submit to you and fully let go of all the responsibility. While on other days after being screamed at by her superiors she needs to feel a sense of control.

————

Additional Headcanon for Phoenix and Hangman: Both probably would never really consider having a threesome unless it is with each other and a third person. And the whole thing would evolve from the competition who can make the third person come the most.

(Probably going to work on this for an upcoming One-shot now)

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Hope you enjoyed this, comments and prompt ideas are always highly appreciated 

[ficsfromthebigchair]

Riding In Cars With Boys (18+)

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader

(Smut, Mentions of Loss, Grief, and Death) 

Word Count: 6.7k

Summary: “My only question is, can you drive as fast as you fly?” you try to bait him. He scoffs, “You wanna find out?”

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! this is my first dabble into writing Top Gun fan fic. I seriously couldn’t have done it without my two beta readers/editors/co-writers (you know who are). So I’d like to thank them profusely. I also wanted to add the pronunciation of a name of a character in this. Her name is “Sire” pronounced like “Sigh-Er.” I also created a playlist of songs mentioned in the fic and songs that also go with mood of this fic.  If you enjoyed this, leave a like, reply, or reblog and if you have a request, my inbox is open! Thank you so much again!

Playlist Link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1kydfNGEE9aRg7WCSDorCM?si=cf88f9adc2964f30

It’s Friday evening at the Hard Deck dive bar. The busiest night of the week. The bar is usually slammed with barrages of naval officers swarming into the bar, looking to get wasted or lucky. You just hoped that one man, in particular, would show up. 

5 pm on the dot, the blur of khaki uniforms rush through the door, wasting no time to get to the bar. 

Penny, your boss and close family friend, hired you as a semi-permanent employee. You help her with rowdy nights like these, and you help her with the money and numbers aspect of the business. You’ve felt a sense of gratitude since she took you under her wing after your dad passed. She was one of your biggest supporters when you went off to college. She was some of the only family you have left. So it only made sense for you to help her out.

You polish a beer glass absentmindedly as you focus your attention on the commotion over at the door.

‘Maybe, just maybe….’ you prayed.

“Looking for someone?” a voice takes you out of your thoughts.

Leaning against the bar with one elbow and his hand languidly resting on his hip is one Lt. Jake Seresin, more notoriously known by his call sign, Hangman. The sly son of bitch.

“Hello Jake…” you greet him, redirecting your attention from the door to the navy man decked out in all khaki with the largest shit-eating grin on his face. 

He laughs a cocky laugh.

“Awww, don’t sound so disappointed to see me…you’re my favorite bartender ya know…” he slaps his hand on the bar playfully.

“Don’t let Penny hear you say that…” 

You roll your eyes at his actions; slinging the rag on your shoulder,  you take a freshly polished beer glass to fill it up.

“Such a shame….” you finished filling up the glass, back turned to him. 

You feel his piercing lustful blue eyes checking you out from behind. 

“Right outfit, wrong pilot…” you say with your back turned to him

You turn to face him, lips forming a perfectly straight line, with one brow arching up.

‘Because you’re not my favorite airman…’ you place his beer in front of him with a smirk on your face. 

He scoffs, sliding his beer toward him,

“You’re ice cold baby” he takes a sip, still making heavy eye contact with you. 

You narrow your eyes at him and shake your head at him.

“Where your buddies at?” you remove the rag from your shoulder and buff the mahogany bar. 

He takes a long swig of his drink, Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“You mean where’s Rooster?” He lifts the drink from his lips. 

You look up at him slowly, still polishing the bar, trying not to garner a reaction. 

You finally make eye contact, his lips growing into a devious smirk.“You know…” 

He places his beer in front of him.“If it makes you feel better, He’s got it bad for you.” He leans in closer. 

You stop polishing the bar, “Oh yeah?” you raise your brow up at him. 

“Yeah…” he reciprocates. 

“And you know what?”  he eludes. 

You raise your brow higher, nodding at him to elaborate. 

“If he doesn’t have the balls to ask you out…I might just have to swoop in for the kill. They don’t call me Hangman for nothing.” He grins ear to ear. 

You scoff at him, “In your dreams” 

“Nah, I don’t dream, I do.” he stands up from the bar taking his glass with him. 

From the corner of your eye, you see a woman also in uniform making her way toward Hangman. Her blue eyes are dead set on him. You can’t tell if she is glad to see him or angry. Knowing Hangman, it’s probably the latter. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised to see you here,  Jake” she narrows her eyes at him and crosses her arms over her chest. 

‘Oh yeah, she’s mad,’ you look between the two.

He adverts his attention to her, 

“Hello baby, you know everytime I see you just keep getting more gorgeous, right?” he attempts to flatter her. 

She nods her head in disapproval at him.

“Pet names aren’t gonna get you outta this Jake.” she grins at him.

Hangman laughs a nervous laugh, looking back at you.

“Y/N, this is Sire…” 

You look at her and then back to him. 

‘That name sounds familiar,’ you pause. 

Then you remember. One night, when you and rooster were talking, he mentioned there was some drama going on in the Dagger Squad. One of the members, callsign “Dirt,” or now that you’ve been properly introduced, Sire,  and Jake have been having a rivalry. Rooster told you they are constantly trying to one-up each other in training any chance they get. If Hangman flew high, Sire would fly higher. If Sire flew fast, Hangman would fly faster. Rooster and the others had a bet going on what would happen. They were all in agreement that they, 1. Haven’t slept together yet. 2. Have almost slept together, but Hangman said something dumb and ruined it. Or 3, which is the most likely scenario; they have slept together (more than once) and are unwilling to quit the chase because it's too much fun for them. 

Looking at the way he scans Sire up and down with a giant smirk on his face, you’re guessing option number three.

Sire steps closer to him until she’s in his personal space.

“I should punch you right here, right now, in front of everyone, so that they know that Lieutenant Jake Seresin is a punk bitch who can’t keep a woman to save his life?” she scorns him. 

“Who can’t stop his dick from leading him around.” she continues, with pure venom in her tone. 

“Imagine, if you thought with your brain for once. You’d better be a pilot and partner…” she finishes, tossing her sandy blonde/brown hair over her shoulder in victory. 

Hangman is rendered speechless. He glances at you for backup. 

“Hey, if you punch him…I didn’t see anything.” You explain to Sire, holding your hands up.

Hangman’s head snaps back to you. His face was ridden with betrayal. 

He looks back down at Sire. They stare each other down. Sire stares at him up through her long lashes. Hangman’s face softens. She wins their silent staring contest. 

Sighing, he places his hands on his hips, “Alright baby, let’s go talk”

Sire’s face lights up. She allows him to drape his arm over her shoulders. Before they make their way toward the pool table with the other pilots; Sire looks at you, 

“It was nice meeting you Y/N. Rooster talks a lot about you. I can see why. You’re a force to be reckoned with.” 

You smile and wave at her back.

“I’ll see you later.” Hangman winks at you. Sire notices and elbows him in the stomach

“Ow!” you hear him mutter as they rejoin the other khakis surrounding the pool table. 

…………………………………………………

The clock continues its treacherous passage of time. 

“Where the hell is he?” you mutter, glaring at the clock. 

You glance over at the door and then at the groups of officers at the pool table.

Nothing.

You sigh in defeat, running your hands through your hair. 

“You okay honey?” Penny brushes past you, holding two shot glasses to serve at the other side of the bar. 

You rest your hands on the bar's countertop, shaking your head. 

“Yeah…”

Penny makes her way to your side, rubbing your shoulder for comfort. 

“He’ll show up. I promise.” She turns away to fill up a shot glass of whiskey. 

You turn toward her, backing and leaning against the bar.

“How is it that he's so easy to read but so difficult at the same time?” you ask. 

Penny laughs, “Yeah, that’s Bradley for you. He’s been like that his whole life, according to Mav anyway.”She turns to face you, holding the shot glass out toward you. 

“Take this, it’ll give you strength…”

You sigh, slamming down the shot and then handing the empty, cold glass toward her. 

One of the officers makes his way to the jukebox. The music in the bar goes quiet for a few seconds. Not that anyone in the packed bar noticed. Only a Fool Would Say That by Steely Dan plays softly in the background. 

Our world become one of salads and suns 

Only a fool would say that

A boy with a plan, a natural man

“It’s just…” you speak up, “I’ve known him so long and he’s so wishy washy…like I mean he’s a great guy but damn, he needs to make up his mind…” Penny hears you out. She turns to face you with a smile forming on her face. 

“I know we’ve had a thing for each other for so long but…” you continue to ramble. You stop when

Penny stares toward the entrance of the door. You notice her attention drifting.

“What?” you ask.

She gestures her head toward the door. Before you could turn around to see what she was gesturing towards, Penny spoke up. 

“Hey Bradley…” she looks between you and him as he makes his way toward you at the bar. 

“Hi Penny.” He stops short of the bar.

Penny holds in her smile, patting your shoulder gently, “Have fun…” she whispers as she leaves you and Bradley alone. You turn slowly to face him. He sits himself down on a barstool, looking directly at you through his dark hazel eyes. God, he was gorgeous, tonight especially. He forwent the Naval uniform and instead wore an open white Hawaiian shirt with a tank underneath, revealing his dog tags resting on the exposed part of his broad chest. 

“Hi…” he greets you warmly. 

“Hi…” you coo. 

You rest your hands on the bar counter and lean into him slightly. 

“I missed you…” he broke the silence. 

You admire him for a moment before you answer. Taking notice of how his slight tan glistens in the soft evening California light or how his perfectly disheveled brownish, sandy blonde is well complemented by his well-groomed mustache.

You laugh.“Didn’t I just see you last week, fly boy?” you poked fun at him. He laughs at your nickname.

“Yeah, I did. But It was the longest week of my life…” He leans into you. You lean closer into him, resting your chest on your arms, bringing attention to your low-cut red tank top. He notices. You see him lick his bottom lip, trying to keep his cool. 

“Well, now that you mentioned it, I did miss my favorite pilot. A lot.” you grin at him. His mustache curls up with his lips. You got him right where you want him.

“So…” he clears his throat, trying to keep his composure.“What time does your shift end?” He plays it cool. You push yourself off from the counter and turn to grab a glass. He eyes your every move, eager for an answer. You turn to face him, smiling at him. 

“10…” you finally say. 

Bradley glances over his shoulder at the clock. “7:42”, the arms are positioned. He sighs and drops his head in loss. Penny makes her way over. 

“Hon, I got it covered for the rest of the night.” she interrupts. Bradley’s head snaps upward to Penny.

“You’re serious?” you ask her. 

She nods her head.“Yeah, I could handle it before you were hired. I can definitely handle it now.” She cleans a part of the countertop. You look at her in surprise, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. 

“Go, I’ve got this!” she gestures her hands for you to go.

You threw down your rag and made your way to the end of the bar with Bradley following you. 

Before you leave from behind the bar, Penny gently grasps your shoulder.

“Hey…” she smiles, “have fun…” she whispers and pats you on the back to go. You exit from behind the bar, and Bradley waits for you. 

“So…” he claps his hands together.“You ready to get outta here?” 

You make your way in front of him, holding your hand out.

“I thought you’d never ask, fly boy.” you smile wide. His face goes red. He blushes. That’s the Bradley, you know. 

Bradley catches up, his hand still in yours. Before you could exit the bar, an all too familiar voice has you halted. 

“Well, somebody’s getting lucky tonight…” Hangman grins wide, revealing his eerily perfect teeth.

Hangman and the other airman crowd around the entrance, snickering at his remark. He waltzes up to Bradley, sizing him up.

“Who would have thought, little rooster had it in him…” he sneers. Bradley puffs his chest out as a silent act of war. 

‘Oh god, here they go…’ you mentally panicked.

You notice the two men sizing each other up.You let go of Bradley’s hand, and he looks down to notice you filling the space between him and Hangman.

“I don’t think you wanna go there, do you?” you ridicule him. 

“I never lose and I don’t plan on startin’ to now…” he stares Bradley down. You laugh dryly at his attempt to rile Bradley up, which wasn’t hard to do.

“Listen here, As moving as this display of macho, high testosterone, big dick measuring contest that this is . You can’t afford to have your ass ripped into a new one TWICE in one night. Plus, we actually have places to be.” you grab Bradley’s hand, forcing him out of his staredown. 

The airmen laugh at your joke. Sire, who is standing to his left, slaps his shoulder sarcastically.

“Yeah, by the time they're gone it’ll probably be the fourth or fifth time” she announces to the other airmen. Hangman is rendered silent.

“So, why don’t you take yourself and your group of boy scouts back to your silly little game of pool and let us go our way.” you jeer at him.

“Ooooooo…” the airmen let out. Hangman, still silent, nods his head, lips drawn in a straight line. 

“Oh, what’s that? Got nothing to say? One might call that defeat, "Mr. I don’t lose.” you mocked. 

The airman surrounding the encounter burst out into laughter. You and Bradley make your way toward the door, and you stop and turn to Hangman.

“See you later, Mr. Pearly Whites” You lead Bradley out of the bar. 

As you exit the bar, Bradley flips Hangman the bird, causing the airman in the bar to laugh hysterically.

‘This was gonna be a good night…’ you thought to yourself. 

……………………

Bradley’s bronco was parked out near the front of the Hard Deck. Still holding his hand, he leads you toward it. Following you to the passenger side, he opens the door for you.

. 

“Always the gentleman you are Bradshaw.” You remark over your shoulder.

He laughs, rushing in front of the car to open the driver's door.

“Yeah, I got it from my dad.” He slides into the driver's seat. 

You smile at his remark. You look over at him, fixing your hair slightly. He looks over at you, sliding his arm around the back of your seat. 

“So, where we headed fly boy?” you look him in the eyes. He pauses, nodding his head as he thinks. 

“I’ve got an idea, do you trust me?” he questions you.

You inspect his features, the way his hazel eyes search yours. How they soften and droop at the corners when he looks at you. You can’t help but smile. 

“Always,” your smile grows.

He grins back at you, patting the steering wheel for a second. 

“Let’s not waste any time then,”  placing the key in the ignition.

He pulls out of the sandy, beachfront parking lot of the Hard Deck. Hangman, who returned to his game of pool with the other pilots, notices the headlights of the car shining temporarily through the window. Lifting up his pool cue, he directs the other airmen outside of the window.

“Well would you look at that.”

Coyote, one of the airmen, laughs.“Yeah, somebody’s getting lucky tonight, and it sure as hell ain’t you man.” he pats Hangman on the shoulder, returning to the pool table to play his turn. 

He clenches his jaw, glancing back to Sire who watches Coyote intensely contemplate his shot at the pool table. 

“Night’s still young Coyote. Anything could happen…” He winks at Sire, causing her to roll her eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, like my pool cue up your ass if you keep talking like that.” 

Hangman scoffs at Sire’s comment, walking back over to the table. 

“You wanna know what he has that I don’t?”  he says, referring to Rooster. Coyote laughs. 

“A mustache?” 

“Common sense?” Sire butts in the conversation, leaning against the table and swinging back a beer.

Hangman shakes his head.

 “No smartasses, history. They have history. You can’t split up the two people who have a long-standing history..it’s scientifically impossible.” he explains.

“That’s a weak excuse for having no game, man.” Coyote finishes his turn. 

“Hah!” Sire shouts. 

Hangman walks to the pool table, leaning over, lining up his shot with his pool cue.

“No game huh?” He shoots the ball, knocking all the balls out.

“Tough talk for someone who just lost a game of pool.” Hangman flashes him a grin.

—---------------------------------

There’s a reason why California is romanticized the way it is. There are millions of songs and poems dedicated to its’ oceans, beaches, people, and its’ natural beauty. But right now, the only beauty Rooster could focus on was you.

You and Bradley glided down the California coast; Suavacito by Malo plays softly on the radio.

I never met a girl like you in my life 

The way that you hold me in the night 

The way that you make things go right 

You lean back into the passenger seat, taking in the warmth from the evening sunlight. Bradley’s hand gently entwined with yours on your thigh. You see him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. You let him continue a little longer and then look back at him. His eyes are finally back on the road. You smile at him and let out a small laugh and continue to appreciate the scenic highway. 

He observes you again, revering you like a work of art. You catch him staring.

 “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you joke.

He snickers, focusing back on the road.

“I don’t think a picture would do enough justice of how beautiful you look right now.”

You turn your head to fully look at him, blushing. He notices. “You’re too smooth for your own good, Bradshaw.” you beam at him.

He glances at you, “Is it working?” he grins.

You tap your finger on your chin jokingly, “Hm, maybe a little bit…” 

“Only a little bit, huh? He chuckles. Suavacito, on the radio, slowly ends. Hush by Deep Purple begins to play. 

“My only question is, can you drive as fast as you fly?” you try to bait him. 

He scoffs, “You wanna find out?” he taunts, changing the gears of the bronco.

You reach over to the radio and turn the radio's volume all the way up.

Bradley reves up the car, propelling you both down the California coastal Highway 101. Your hair blows majestically in the wind as you laugh. 

I got a certain little girl she's on my mind

No doubt about it she looks so fine

She's the best girl that I ever had

Sometimes she's gonna make me feel so bad

You unbuckle your seatbelt, which catches Bradley’s attention. He shoots you a confused as you begin to shift in your seat, hoisting yourself upwards toward the open sunroof of the car. Holding on tight, you tuck your arm over the window cherishing the moment. You look to the coast at the crashing of the glistening waves on the sandy shore. You look up towards the sunset. When you see the sky, you think of your dad, who was also a Top Gun graduate. He was taken from you and your mother far too early. You lean against the window in deep thought. Bradley notices your change in demeanor.

“You alright?” he shouts over the whirling wind. 

You glance at him. “Never better,” you assure him. 

The song continues as the sun sets in further. You slink back into your seat, covering your eyes with your hand and gazing at the sky. 

“What’s it like up there?” you ask, nodding up to the sky. 

Bradley turns the volume on the radio down.

“Up there?” he reiterates. Bradley’s grip on the wheel tightens as he tries to think of a response.

 “It’s dangerous, exciting, and terrifying all at the same time, but” he starts. “I feel free when I’m up there. I feel closer to my dad. It’s just,” he begins to stutter. You reach out to his shoulder and caress his arm to comfort him, causing him to relax visibly. 

“Sometime’s when I’m up in the sky, I can feel him there, trying to talk to me or give me some sign.” He laughs, “I know it sounds dumb, but when I start to miss him, I look up to the sky and see him there.” He finishes. 

“Bradley, that’s beautiful. It’s not dumb at all.” you encourage him. “A pilot and a poet,” you joke, causing him to laugh. 

“Your dad was one of us, too, right?” he asks. 

You breathe in deep, “Yeah, he was. Callsign Grizzly. He was a wildman but a good pilot, father, and husband. Just like your dad. I wish I had more time with him, but fate had other plans, I guess. Time’s such a funny thing you take for granted. One minute he’s here, and the next minute, my mother and I are standing in front of his casket at his funeral.” 

Bradley pulls off into an exit, the sign reading, “Black’s Beach.” Driving into the oceanfront parking lot, he parks and then takes the key out of the ignition.  Still sitting in the driver's seat, he shifts himself toward you, arm resting behind your seat. 

“I remember that feeling. The feeling of being confused. I remember my mom gripping my hand as they lowered his casket. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.” he admits. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to start our first official date out on a depressing note.” he apologizes.  His sorrowful eyes are glued to the middle console as he reminisces momentarily. You reach your hand out to his cheek, forcing him to make eye contact with you. 

“Bradley, you don’t need to apologize. It’s good to get these things off your chest. You can’t shelter them forever. I know how it feels. I know the feeling of trying to bury all of those emotions and hoping they go away. But you don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are. You don’t have to hide these feelings from me. I want to be in your life. Hell, we’ve known each other since we were kids, and I always knew I wanted to be around you.” you pause, taking his large hands and pulling them into your chest. “Let me in. I want to know what goes on in that deep beautiful mind that is the mind of Bradley Bradshaw.” 

You study his face for his reaction. His eyes are relaxed, gazing off to your side. His amber eyes flick up to meet yours. A single tear cascades down his cheek. He pulls you in for a tight embrace, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. You gently cradle his head on your shoulder. He’s so close you're sure he can hear your heart race. You both were silent. Only the sounds of the seagulls and the soft waves crashing on the shore can be heard. Bradley finally pulls away.

“Better?” you soothe him.

“Much better,” he replies. 

“Now,” you unbuckle your seatbelt, “where to, flyboy?” He reciprocates the same action. 

—------------------------------------------------------

Hand in hand, you and Bradley walk the sandy shore of Black’s Beach. The sun has almost completely gone out. The late evening kisses your forehead as Bradley tells you more about the drama in the dagger squad. 

“I just can’t believe they weren't reprimanded for that! They did it in the barracks and we all heard it!” he laughs, and you laugh along with him. 

Listening to him talk about his fellow airmen, you had a moment of realization. He likes being a part of a team. He feels a connection with them. But most significantly, he feels closer to his dad. He honors him by following in his footsteps. 

He holds both of your hands in his and scours your face, trying to remember all the small things. He fixates on the crinkling by the corner of your eyes when you laugh. You have been his life for so long, but it’s only now, at this beach, as the sun goes down, that he really sees you for the first time. He feels something deep down. An aching, unfamiliar feeling. He swallows deeply as the feeling washes over him. Then like a ringing in his head, he places the feeling. It’s love. 

His arms slide up your forearms as he closes the gap between you. He stares deeply into your eyes, silently asking permission. He leans in and kisses you deeply. His kiss isn't dominant or aggressive but gentle. He is trying to get a feel for you. So he takes things slowly. You wrap your arms around his broad neck. Bringing him down to you in an attempt to deepen the kiss. You both pull away from each other momentarily. You’re both breathless. His chest heaves as he stares you down, eyes full of longing. His eyes linger on your lips briefly and then flick up back to your eyes.

He pulls you in again for another kiss. His muscular arm snakes around your neck, pulling you up to him. You close your eyes and your lips meet for a kiss much more passionate than the last. Your mouths work together harmoniously while also still fighting for dominance. His free hand gropes at your hip, causing you to moan in his mouth. You feel his mustache curl up through his kiss, he grins. But you aren’t willing to give up the fight just yet. You drag his hand down from your hip to the curve of your ass and then quickly back to your hip. He pulls away from you, huffing with frustration. 

“You’re killing me” he huffs.

Still breathless you stare him dead in the eyes, “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” you egg him on. 

You stare at him expectantly. 

“I need you, can I take you home?” he pleads. 

You pull him in, resting your forehead against his

“I thought you’d never ask” you let out shakily.

—----------------------------

The ride back to your apartment is tortue. The silence is staggering, with tension in the air so thick it could be cut with a butcher knife. You didn’t dare to even glance at him. You know that if you locked eyes you’d never make it home.. It didn’t help that he kept inching his hand up your thigh; until he was teasing the hem of your shorts. 

He finally pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and its game on. Hastily unbuckling his seatbelt, he exits the driver side slamming the car door behind him he rushes to your side, opening your door. By the time you’re unbuckled, you grab his hand leading him up to your apartment. Guiding him by the hand, walking up the stairs felt like an impossible task. When you finally reach your apartment you fumble with your keys.

‘Why the hell do I have so many keys!’ You mentally curse. Bradley leans against the wall next the door, sunglasses on, watching like a hawk as you struggle to find the right key. Finally, after succeeding, you unlock the door to your apartment and without hesitation Bradley is hot on your heels. Without breaking eye contact, he shuts the door behind him and he pulls you toward him by the hip. 

In an instant, his mouth collides with yours in a desperate kiss. His large hands move from your hip to your torso, slowly slipping them under your shirt. You grab him by the collar of his Hawaiian shirt, shrugging it off of him revealing his white tank top underneath. You take your arms off him and raise your arms up as his hands begin to peel your tank off from the hem. Your red tank top joins his Hawaiian shirt on the floor. You break the kiss to catch your breath and both kick your shoes off.  Bradley, taking the lead, picks you up from under your knees and carries you bridal style down the hallway of your apartment. After opening the bedroom door, gently lies you down on the bed, boxing you in with his arms. His eyes are blown out fully with lust. You prop yourself up to meet him, placing your hands on his face and kissing him. His hands slide up your thighs, stopping at the zipper of your jeans and slowly unzipping them until you clasp your hand on his wrist to stop him. 

“Not so fast, you’re practically still fully clothed” you remove your hand from his wrist and nod your gesture your head to his tank top. “Take it off” your order. His brows shoot up and he grins. He slowly pulls off his tank top, revealing his perfectly sculpted body. Your eyes go wide at the sight, perfect tan with only his dog tags swaying on his chest. Your hands slide up his abdomen, feeling his abs. He grins widely as you inspect him. You feel warmth beginning to settle deep in your lower belly. His hands are back on the zipper of your shorts. 

“No no no, take it all off. Lieutenant…” you command. Oh he definitely liked that. You can feel him from under his jeans. Not only is his physical stature huge, but from his growing erection from his pants you know for a fact he's big in more ways than one. 

“Yes ma’am” he jokes, unzipping his jeans and letting them drop to the floor. 

You finally allow him to take off your shorts, leaving you both in your undergarments. You lie back on the bed taking him with you. He admires you. 

“You’re beautiful” he remarks.

“You’re not so bad yourself, fly boy” you leave a chaste kiss on his lips while you unclasp your bra and throw it to the floor. 

Bradley drops his head to your neck kissing his way down, stopping at your jugular, kissing it intensely until a red mark forms. The build up too much. He’s not where you need him. Your core aches, you clench your thighs together as he slowly begins to kiss his way down the valley of your breast. You reach around his neck and try to pull him down where you need him. He pulls his lips away from you lower stomach and grins at you. 

“Who’s the needy one now?” 

You laugh, throwing you head back onto the bed. He makes his final descent and stops right at your entrance. You feel his hot breath against your slit through your underwear. He pauses. Your eyes snap to his as he stares at you for a reaction. 

“You’re such a tease!” You squeal.

He temporarily lifts his head, “Oh I’m the tease huh? You were wearing the red tank top tonight and I’m thankful I had my sunglasses on because I couldn’t stop staring at them.” 

“Pervert” you smile. 

“Only for you” he winks. 

He lowers his head back down near your thighs, spreading them. You feel his mustache tickle the smooth skin on your inner thighs. You moan softly at the sensation. He leverages himself further near your core, throwing your legs over his shoulder, pulling your underwear off. Without any warning his tongue is in you. Licking a stripe down your folds. You let out an exasperated moan as you try to squeeze your thighs to resist. His tongue finds his way to the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, experimentally flicking it a few times with this tongue. 

“Bradley…” you cry out. 

He licks circles around your clit, your hands to grip his hair tightly in response. His pace becomes more domineering. You feel your throat clench as you grow nearer to the edge. You throw your head back deeper into the bed, shutting your eyes so tightly you see blue dots. He pops his mouth off you for a moment and goes back in, sucking on your clit. You cry out in intense pleasure, pushing you over the edge. Your back arches against the bed. The orgasim washes pulsates through your entire body making your throat gasp for breath. Once you start to come down, he pops off from you again. 

He pulls himself back up to you, adjusting a piece of hair that sticks to your forehead. He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. You stroke the baby hairs on his neck and bring his head to your shoulder. 

Your mouth begins to trail down his neck, before stopping just below his ear and sucking a mark into the skin. 

Bradley lets out a breathy moan, and distracted from the small burst of pleasure, you take advantage and flip your positions so that you’re straddling his hips.

Your nails rake down his toned chest as you shift your hips and lean down to trail your tongue across the red marks you just left.

You can feel the hardness between your legs and grind back onto it.

“Y/N….” Bradley moans out his work hardy hands coming up to grasp your hips and squeeze them tightly in his grip. 

Grasping onto his wrists you pry them off with a smirk, and push them back onto the bed over his head.

Leaning down you place a rough kiss against Bradley’s lips, and he cranes his neck up to meet you halfway. 

Long gone is the gentle intimacy of the evening, now replaced with a fever of tongue and teeth.

You release your grasp on his wrists and reach down to tug on his dick which had been left neglected up to this point.

A punched out gasp leaves his lips as you begin to work over the head, his hips canting up with each stroke. Chanting your name between kisses, you feel the desire burning in the pit of your stomach burn brighter and harder.

“You look so pretty right now.” You whisper into Bradley’s ear before he seemingly has had enough and throws you onto your back, the bed bouncing slightly with the force that he used to switch positions.

“If I hadn’t been waiting for this moment for weeks I’d be teasing you all night darling,” he pants into your mouth, “but I can’t wait much longer to be inside of you.” Bradley leans down and reconnects your mouths.

You nod fevorently and reach over to your bedside table, blindly grappling around in the drawer before you feel the plastic of a condom package catch your fingers. Breaking the kiss, you tear open the packaging with your teeth and Bradley takes the condom from you to put on.

For a beat, the only sounds in the room are your labored breaths mixing together before Bradley moves between your thighs and begins to enter you.

Both of you let out breathy moans as he fills you up. Bradley’s hand makes his way up your face to cradle your cheek which you muzzle into.

“I’m so full.” You murmur into his lips, and grab into his shoulder when he begins to thrust. 

Gentle at first, his hips meet yours in slow tandem, both of you grasping onto each other like the other is a lifeline.

“Faster.” You say, looking into Bradley’s lust filled eyes. He gives you smirk and leans down to peck your lips. 

Grabbing your thighs he pulls you down the bed closer to him, or legs draped over his thighs. 

The change in position hits something deep and sensitive within you, “Fuck!” You cry out.

Bradley stops and looks at you in concern, “Was that okay?” He asks, cupping your neck with both hands.

You nod enthusiastically, “Fuck yes and if you don’t start moving again I’m leaving you for Hangman.”

Bradley scoffs and thrusts in hard, pushing out an unwillingly moan from you.

“You wouldn’t dare baby.” He says, diving back to your lips with a new ferocity, his hip slamming into yours.

You grasp at his back, nails digging into his shoulders, and knowing that those marks will stay there for days to come and marking him as yours.

“Shit baby I’m going to cum.” Bradley cries out. You clench down and begin to feel your own orgasm wash over you, the sweat and need between your bodies urges you both on.

“Fuck!” You cry out, pulling Bradley close to your chest as you cum. 

His hips continue to thrust into you for several more seconds, his face pressed against your neck leaving small and wet kisses against your skin. 

“Shit baby,” Bradley begins to chuckle, his mustache tickling your now over sensitive skin.” 

“Yeah..” you whisper, a gentle smile on your lips as you catch your breath. You lean your head down and press your lips against Bradley’s forehead.

Slowly and with a groan, Bradley lifts himself off of you, and you miss the weight of your lover against you. “Let’s get us both into the shower darling, we’re a mess.”

You laugh and agree, pulling your self up off the bed and reach up to wrap you arms at wound Bradley. Your eyes connecting. A moment passes between the two of you that feels more intimate than the acts you just performed in bed. 

Bradley smirks and leans down for a short kiss, your hands making their way into his curly and sex-mused hair.

“Round two in the shower?” He suggests between kisses. 

You pull back and grin, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom door, naked as the day you were born.

 “Come on Lieutenant, I’m waiting.” You say and walk through the door. You hear quick shuffling behind you and the door click shut behind the two of you.

It was going to be a long night.

———————-

The morning light peeks through the sheer curtains of the window, signifying the start of a new day. 

You and Bradley are fast asleep, his strong arms curled around you in a protective embrace. 

your solitude was abruptly interrupted when the ring of your phone began to blare. You pull yourself up, Bradley’s arm still hanging around you as you blindly feel for your phone. You sigh in defeat as you sit up, sheets dropping to your waist. Bradley stirs as he senses the change in your position. 

You sigh, 

“Hello?” You ask half asleep. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Penny's cheerful voice greets you over the phone. 

“Hi, is everything alright?” You look at the clock on your nightstand reading “7:03” 

“It’s 7 in the morning on Saturday. The bar doesn’t open until 5.  Are you okay?” You panic. 

Bradley shifts over to your side blinking his eyes a few times trying desperately to  wake himself up. 

“Oh everythings fine!” You sense some slight insincerity to her tone. 

“Who the fuck’s calling this early on a Saturday morning?” Bradley squints his eyes against the opposing sunlight. 

“It’s Penny” you crane your head to look at him. 

“Is Bradley there with you?” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yes…” you exhale. 

“You hear that Mav?” Penny asks on the other end of the line; To which Mav replies, 

“Hah, see I told you they were gonna be more than fine. You owe me 20 bucks.” 

[compacflt]

Thank you thank you thank you so much for sharing your writing with us - I really have enjoyed every word!! Seeing the edges of Ice and Mav's wedding was lovely, but I wasn't expecting them to have invited VIPER of all people. Can I grab a full guest list of the people who you think they would have wanted there to bear witness to the legal proof of their relationship?

they invited viper for the meta reason of “in my fanfiction he basically got ice & mav together & then i kinda forgot about him as a character when he was their friend & coworker at miramar for over a decade oops” & also i think age gaps closing as you get older is super interesting… viper not being mav’s dad figure anymore cause they’re both old as shit… they’re just pals now… drinking buddies… the earth is healing…

i am still secondhand embarrassed for ice & mav actually having a wedding, seems super out of character, i only made them invite their friends because it was the climax of the friendship arc in Slider but imo it otherwise doesn’t make any sense, the wedding would’ve been actually excruciating to write in any detail

but here’s an off the cuff wedding invite list sure

slider, sarah (😏), Cougar, sundown, hondo, rooster, hangman, Hollywood, wolfman, chipper, [it’s been so long since I’ve seen top gun i forgor the other pilots’ call signs so add your favorite background character here], viper, rear admiral chester cain for the meme (he RSVPs no), extremely select members of ice’s staff (COS e.g.), a couple of mav’s friends if he has any (unlikely)… Penny? no. she’s an ex. it would be weird.

[cray-cray-anime]

How do you feel about the new voice actors for Camp Camp?

I...Really don't like them. Like Gwen, I don't know why the voice actor left, I know they say that the three got replaced for representation, but replacing Gwen makes LITERALLY NO SENSE since she's not even going to be in the new season!

And then for Max, I get it, again representation, but he's already such a character. Plus, Micheal still works for Rooster Teeth, so I feel like it would have worked better if he had at least done this episode, and THEN got replaced for the next season if they really had to, and they could say he went through puberty or something.

Nerris I can't really tell because she hardly spoke, but another issue I have with Gwen and Max's voice actors is that they sound like robots. It's like this is their first jobs voice acting.

I think for Max it's almost definitely because the new voice actor is TRYING to sound like Micheal, like really trying.....I don't think it's working.

Thoughts?

Tldr I don't think the VAs are necessarily bad and can be judged completely soley on this episode. Max new VA could do really well if he talked faster and tried less sounding just like Michael. Gwen sometimes sounds too nice and monotonous and sometimes nails annoyed and tired w shit gwen. Nerris sound definitely different but not bad when not scratchy. Recasting for representation reason is understandable but it threw everyone off w new voices after 4 seasons of getting used to these characters.

Edit: adding the video cos its crazy how it improved max talking at ×1.25 speed

Hmmm well first I always think most important thing of a VA is being able to be expressive as the character. And then ofc there's if you look at that character you think this VA goes well w it.

Tho think especially hard to get used to the new VA when we've heard them for 4 whole seasons. Also i think this episode writing was also kinda awkward w the way the characters speaking or not expect the characters to say. Like for max

"Excuse me! Another betrayal"

"Woooooooow"

"Hear that, they love it. What would they do without us"

Actually someone mentioned max is talking too slow which makes it sound more off just like w that last quote.

You know putting max at faster speed at ×1.25 he sounds good like in alot of them! I'm wondering if they slowed him down or the VA really did talk slowly; so weird (I'm not over it)

Even went back for gwen on some parts and she could also talk a lil faster to sound better.

I think for max you are in somewhat right he's trying hard to sound like max, but i think emotion wise he does have potential if he just well wasn't trying hard to mimic "usual max". You can hear it especially when max annoyed like

"Nothing, I'm having a great time"

"Neil what did she just tell you to do"

"You have no idea how depressing that is do you. Don't worry kid you'll be happy at some point"

So i think as you said if the new VA just stops trying hard to mimic Michel (probably as you said excuse w puberty) I think he'll turn out well. (And if he talked faster lol)

For gwen oddly enough tho slightly different I don't think the va necessarily bad, I think in part it's the volume, like idk her volume is oddly consistent; I want her to be louder when she's pissed lol. I'm going back and someone mentioned she's sounds "too nice" and i think ye it doesn't sound in character sometimes in the episode.

Tho if she's not coming back it is odd to recast (unless it's a trick and she is coming back lol).

Tho yes it would make sense to at least keep the old va before kicking the new season but then thinking irl it's been years and who knows what they doing.

The only reason we can see is they change for representation and not to appropriate. Alot of conterversy around this, but personally I think the VA should match w characters ethnicity. Tho it can be alot harder to do like here where you already had the va for awhile and just now changing since now expected to sound the same.

As for nerris going back she sounds soooo different. She only talked twice.

One when the trio sat w her and dolph: different but not bad. Tho not typical "nerdy/dorky" voice.

And when everyone made fun of david: that i think was trying to mimic nerris "nerdy" (?) voice which made it sound off.

[redfurrycat]

🦎🦾🛫🦿Incorrect Quotes/Drabbles Top Gun & Pacific Rim AU - Series🦿🛫🦾🦎

Reuben Payback Fitch is in his private quarters at the Miramar Shatterdome, reading the latest report on the updates added to the Jaeger he’s co-piloting with Mickey Fanboy Garcia. They’re supposed to have another test later before their WagerTrek Jaeger is to officially launch an attack against the Kaiju.

His boyfriend was supposed to be in charge of the snacks for their much-deserved break. It’s been several minutes since he left. The Miramar kitchen isn’t that far from their quarters, so Payback is wondering what Fanboy is up to now.

He’s also feeling a bit nervous. Yesterday he received the engagement ring he asked to be engraved, and he’s wondering when to propose…

He’s thinking about different scenarios, toying with the ring, when the door of his quarters is suddenly opened, and his soon-to-be fiancé –hopefully– comes in with a huge smile!

Fanboy: ‘SUP, BABE?!

Payback, startled and moved frantically to hide the ring in his pillow: Yo, Mickey-boo. Why are you so late?

Fanboy: I was busy putting an end to our sufrimiento. ¡Tu boyfriend es un héroe!

Payback: What did you do? What suffering?

Fanboy: The kind que impieza con una J y una B.

Payback: J and B…Jake and Bradley? What about them? I thought they were currently avoiding each other because of another bullshit reason. Bullshit reason that is in fact an epic failed attempt at flirting that both sides somehow took offence from…

Fanboy: Let me explain what I did. So, do you remember my collection of action figures that nobody –but you– knows about?

[The collection Fanboy is talking about is an action-figures-of-every-Daggers-Jaeger-Pilot-in-their-PPDC-uniform-with-extra-accessories type of collection. It’s all part of the commercial aspect of the Jaeger-Kaiju War. Even though the Apocalypse is coming closer, some try to make a profit out of it, because there are a lot of groupies who like to spend their money to buy figurines of their heroes and the giant Godzilla-like monsters. Fanboy is one of the groupies, although he gets discounts and the Merchandise Team loves him – he gives them so many good ideas, like the Fanboy he is.]

Payback: Yeah. So?

Fanboy: Well, I asked the Merch Team to do me a favour and create two unique action figures.

[The first one is a Bradley Rooster Bradshaw action figure. The Rooster doll wears his Ranger & PPDC-issued uniform with a leather jacket portraying his Kaiju kills; however, he doesn’t have his usual accessories, he gets a Stetson, a wooden comb, and a toothpick box instead. Meanwhile the other action figure is a Jake Hangman Seresin doll wearing a mustache, a colourful Hawaiian-shirt and jorts with extra accessories such as a Bronco and a French bulldog figurine.]

Payback, speechless: For real, man?

Fanboy, excited: Yup. Then I put the Bradley doll in Jake’s room, and the Jake doll in Bradley’s. It should melt their pissy moods, perhaps they’re too chicken shit to face their feelings, but I’m hoping they’re far too gone on one another to throw the doll away…

Payback: I know you enough to tell there’s another step to that plan…

Fanboy, Aw. You know me too well, babe. There is!

Payback: ‘Kay, Mickey-Mouse, tell you what. I have five attempts to guess your plan. You win, I’m doing your part of the report about the test we’re conducting with WagerTrek. I win, I want my OWN customised doll and shit! ‘Cause this is so cool!

Fanboy: Deal, mi amor!

Payback; with a giant grin: Sweet, baby! Oh, and you’ve forgotten our snacks! ☹

Fanboy: ¡Joder! be right back!

[Fanboy runs to the kitchen to fetch their snacks while Payback put his ring away, a plan finally forming in his head. By the way, Fanboy also has a plan to propose to his boyfriend with an action figure!]

[The sequel of Fanboy’s plan to be set in another post.]

[This third post is in the same timeframe than the first one. And I’ve figured out what Bradley and Natasha’s Jaeger name is going to be. The FeatheredFlame!]

[I got the idea for this post once I saw @babyrooster’s post about Barbie!Rooster. It sparked something in my head! :D]

(Original Ring Picture source: x)

_3_

[Pinned post with other stuff, related and unrelated to this AU.]

[Follow this tag 🦎🦾PR/TG🛫🦿 for more!]

[cadriona]

So some more notes on the feral!beidou turned fatui!beidou au that still has not left my head but still refuses to be written: (tw: child abandonment)

beidou's mom died in childbirth, her dad couldn't bear the pain, so he let her go in a basket in the sea, and said basket gets picked up by a merchant boat (they keep her and her name was on the blanket??) except when they sailed past guyun haishan yeeted the ship, but beidou survived (somehow) and beisht was like:... i can use this

haishan: grandma what the Fuck are you on

beisht: I have a Plan

plan: raise beidou to be on the side of the sea dragons so that when she grows up and eventually re-enters human society she can use human knowledge of seals and shit to unseal osial (beisht misses her husband, ok??)

haishan: this is going to go horribly

three(?) years later

Haishan: this has gone horribly (has a toddler beidou latched onto his horns and he's developed a soft spot. Fuck.

As per the adepti, haishan and beisht will also have human forms, although haishan's is a lot less refined but they manage

insert shenanigans

Beidou, tender age of 9(????) and with the blessing (reluctant) from haishan and co: gets picked up by passing ship

said ship: it be the rooster out recruiting- (beidou gets her electro vision because she's just that much different, and will keep on forging a path in this different direction)

beidou: proceeds to get adopted recruited into fatui (childe gets to stay as smol fishing boi because beidou wandered by one day and grabbed him before he fell into the abyss but we don't talk about this because the childe fans might shank me)

beidou, who looks and can speak liyuean (ancient liyuean but whose counting, blame the sea dragons): gets sent on mission to acquire geo gnosis

haishan vibing at home with beisht: ...something is about to go horribly

[redfurrycat]

@the-ace-with-spades I want to scream about every little thing you've written. Ever since the post, I'm here trying to find the first thing I want to talk about… Je-sus!

O-Kay. First thing… How the hell did you make the files??? It looks so good and fine and awesome?! :D

Mav still feeling Goose is something that makes me cry like a baby…Especially because I think this is why the Rooster and Mav drift was unsuccessful and kind of went bad. This is a mess already that couldn’t end well with a Bradshaw and a Mitchell drifting again… ☹

Ice being so soft with Bradley he can’t say no to him…. AW. Look at that melting smoothie! <3

The chuck/herc and chaleigh vibes of it all. EVEN THE DOG!!!!!!!! OMG. ARE YOU EVEN FOR REAL?! (Yes. You are for real and I’m HERE. CHEERLEADING THE HECK OUT OF IT. I’m the Newton Geiszler here.)

Darcy and Bradley were a thing? Or did Bradley adopt his co-pilot's sister's daughter when they both died? (AND HELL NO. HE STILL FEELS HER TOO. This is so heart-breaking…. ☹)

Ice and Pentecost similar situation…. :O (You can’t let Ice die though. YOU HEAR ME?! NOT. POSSIBLE. INCONCEIVABLE)

Jake challenging Mav… And them discovering they’re drift-compatible. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaamned. I want to read this SO BADLY. This is SO COOL to picture. (Yes. I’m picturing the Mako/Raleigh kind of fight… 😉) (And nicely done. They SHOULD be Striker Eureka’s pilots!!!! <3)

Another scene I would like to read is Ice discovering Bradley, his SON, has a kid…Making him a GRANDPOPS. (‘And fuck. What will Mav say?!’) Is he horrified to recruit his son to fight? Feeling guilty over sending his grand-daughter’s dad at war? This is nerve-wracking and super angsty… :/

Nat, Bob and Rooster being long lost friends after exactly ten seconds meeting… <3

HE DOODLED JAKE BRADSHAW. HOLY SHIT. :D I love the way the crush is hypothetically over…until IT IS SO NOT OVER JAKE IS AN IDIOT FOR THINKING IT WAS EVER OVER. xD (And the meeting with the daughter… I can see Jake first meeting the girl and being amused and smitten over his biggest and smallest fan ever with beautiful brown eyes…. ‘Fuck. It’s Bradshaw’s daughter. Shit. Does that mean he’s taken? Fuck. Does it also mean the cutest girl ever is about to lose her dad? NOT. ON. MY. WATCH.’ And he’d make his dog babysit the girl and vice-versa…You know something cute like that :D)

OMG. Why did you make Jake Texan AND Aussie? This is so criminal… ☹ (Same with the combo Texan/Italian I’ve seen… It’s too sexy to be allowed…. *sigh*) (By that I mean, you’re a genius.)

(Mav and Jake having a strong neural handshake is reason enough for them to pilot the best Jaeger they have left…<3 But the half-aussie thingy is HELLA NICE)

Slider… What’s his role at the Shatterdome? As he’s retired from piloting Jaegers… Is he a Tendo?

Bradley’s daughter having Jaegers Plushies… YES.

Oh! I vote for German Shepherd! <3 <3 (Jake adopts Godzilla -my attempt at naming them- but imagine his reaction when Godzilla and Bradley meet again? :D)

Boombox with different ‘mood’ cassettes as well as his parents… It’s precious and you can’t touch it. They’re stocked in a special way.

Bobby and Nat piloting together… <3

Jake and Bradley discovering their compatibility potential fighting like Raleigh and Chuck? :D

I love your Darcy character!!!!! <3

Still on my Pacific Rim AU brainrot so here we go with the fic idea that's not leaving my head...

Backstory - so, if anyone's seen the Dossier Files I made, you might already know bits of it but:

Everything from Top Gun (1986) except for Goose's death still happened, we just move the event by around 10 years into the future so it was like 1996/7 instead. Kaiju start attacking in 2006, Carole dies in the attack on San Diego, and Mav and Goose become one of the first co-pilots along with Ice and Slider.

Goose dies in Romeo Blue when they're still connected and Mav adopts Bradley (who is 13/14 at the time). He and Ice are married already and Slider, who has another baby on the way, retires from combat after Goose's death, scared that he's going to orphan his kids, too.

Ice and Mav start drifting together and they are The Dream Team™. Obviously, Bradley watches it all as he's being moved from Shatterdome to Shatterdome with the Lucky Seven Team.

He turns seventeen, gets into the Jaeger Academy Program and the whole pulling the papers happens but Bradley is stubborn and a legacy kid so the current Marshal from their Shatterdome (I imagine Viper, maybe?) goes over Mav's head and he gets in and starts attending at eighteen. This made the situation between Brad, Mav, and Ice tense as hell (especially Mav because Bradley knows Ice is too soft to ever tell him no and it was not his initiative) but they still talk

Bradley aces the training and during it, finds his co-pilot, Darcy (OC, obviously). They get the newest Mark-III to pilot, Gipsy Danger and they instantly become The Dream Team™ too. Bradley becomes PPDC's poster boy as the late Bradshaw's kid (no one knows about the Mav and Ice thing...) and Darcy is the youngest pilot to enter the program and one the few Aussie pilots that qualified in the past few years. They're the new duo of the PR team basically and they're sold off as celebrities when they have a win after a win.

They take a year off when Darcy gets pregnant, in reserve in LA, and when they're back to active duty and Knifehead happens and Bradley goes through the exact same thing Mav went through - his co-pilot dies when they're still connected. Darcy's mind never leaves his brain and he can still feel her.

Just before this, Ice gets diagnosed with cancer and stops piloting to basically not die under the neural load. Mav is looking for a new pilot.

Something that would be a big spoiler happens between Mav and Bradley and Bradley leaves PPDC.

Mav and Ice are visiting the training program with the new recruits and Jake, the cocky son of a bastard, challenges Mav to a fight and they accidently find out they're drift compatible. And Jake becomes Mav's new co-pilot for Striker Eureka.

The world goes to shit, Ice is running PPDC as renegades and they're running out of pilots, and after over 4 years, he tracks Bradley down to where he's working as a cargo pilot at the Anti-Kaiju Wall. He doesn't know one thing though - that Bradley has a kid, a three-year-old daughter.

They arrive in Tokyo Shatterdome and Bradley meets Natasha, who, in Ice's mind is a great candidate for his drift partner (and becomes his daughter's favorite very quickly), and Bob, one of the leading upgrade engineers for the re-commissioned Gipsy. And Jake, the biggest ass Bradley's met who has a problem with him even though they've never met before.

Now, Jake is a bigger ass than usually because he had a celebrity crush on Bradley - or rather a Crush with capital C, posters in his bedroom, interviews recorded and saved on his laptop, t-shirts with Gipsy Danger and Jake Bradshaw written in the back of his math notebook included. He had daydreamed about meeting Bradley and impressing him and becoming a co-pilot pair ala Ice and Mav and when he disappeared right before Jake had an opportunity to meet him in Sydney Shatterdome, he was Mad™. It subsided with the years going and the longer Bradley was gone, the more he was becoming PPDC's new poster boy. In Jake's mind, he went from zero to hero and Bradley went from hero to zero.

And then Bradley shows up at his 'Dome and he realizes the crush isn't gone at all and he's Fucking Mad™ about it. And then he discovers Bradley's got a kid.

Some smaller details I might include somehow:

Nat was one of the crew of the Crimson Typhoon up until a year before.

Jake is half-Aussie and the accent switches places with the Texan drawl sometimes (he learned to hold it back because his dad didn't like it when he spoke with his mama's accent). Everyone thinks it's fake but Bradley realizes it's genuine because Darcy was Aussie. (Also, I added this detail because I was struggling to find a reason why Mav and Jake would have an Australian Jaeger as Americans...)

Slider's family (aside from his eldest daughter who is in college) is at the 'Dome with him, including Sara.

Bradley and Darcy's drivesuits were metallic red, now Brad only wears black. Mav and Jake wear metallic green, but it used to be metallic blue when he and Ice were drifting together.

Bradley's daughter had multiple Jaeger Plushies and ironically, her favorite is Striker Eureka because it has a dog in the decal and 'has a funny name and funny face'

When Bradley leaves, he leaves his dog with Mav and Ice (one he got when he was seventeen) and when Jake moves to the 'Dome, he basically announces the dog is now his, not Mav's, because he likes Jake better (I still don't know what dog breed, tho?? I'm hanging onto a beagle/miniature german shepherd atm)

Sara's and Ice's names are spelled this way (Sara and Tomasz) because that's how they'd be spelled if they were Polish.

Bradley carries a boombox into the jaeger every time he rides - uses his dad's and mom's cassette tapes. He's also got a couple of walkmans and his daughter her own too - decorated with stickers and glitter.

Things bordering on spoiler-y + additional dossier for Darcy and Brad's medical report under the cut:

The shit that happened between Mav and Brad was that Ice had the idea that hey, maybe you could drift together, and they could, really well at that, Mav just...didn't react well? It ended with them almost blowing up Lucky Seven and Ice erased the records so no one knew the details. They both said some shit and Bradley decided he's never trusting Mav again and he's got nothing holding him in the PPDC.

Bradley and Nat are compatible, they're actually really compatible for a pair of people who are not related/never met before, but Bob is going to be Nat's co-pilot, and Bradlye and Jake will ride together, is all I'm saying.

The mockup files not included in the previous post (with a small cameo from Penny):

Text in ALTs

(also, going to tag you here, @redfurrycat, because I thought you might like it 👉👈)

[callsignthirsty]

OMG THIRSTY YOUR SUGGESTION BOX IS OPEN UMMM, first of all hi I love you, second I was thinking maybe a maverick x femPILOTreader can (her call sign be avalanche?) were they are a thing that only goose and carol know about, but not really just “casual sex” in mavs words, then ice starts flirting HARD with the reader and mav gets jealous and makes a big scene and they end up breaking up over it (cause maverick is too hard headed) and he regrets it forever but says nothing (that man won’t swallow his pride) and maybe a time skip to top gun maverick? Where he and the reader are called back together to train the team (is this too much?), I think it’d be cute to see mav fall in love all over again (not really cause he never forgot her) with her and be together in the end. Bonus points if she is like an aunt to rooster cause she was also good friends with the Bradshaws. I don’t know if it’s something you’d like to write or if it’s really not up your alley. Sorry if it’s a mess not good at explaining my self, anyway I hope you have a lovely day ❤️❤️❤️

Hey there @i-wear-wet-socks313 — Thanks for sending in your suggestion. There was a lot to unpack with this one, so I hope you don’t mind that I shortened it a little bit by breezing over the events of the first movie. That said: it’s still fixing to be about 10k by the time I get around to publishing part 2 (yeah, that’s right, I had to break it into two parts!) But what can I say? Your suggestion definitely smacked me upside the head (and I liked it)! Be on the lookout for part two in the coming week or two ❤️

Pairing: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x F!Pilot!Reader (call sign: Avalanche) Word Count: 7500 Warnings: Canon character death (x2), language, a general glossing over of movie events, the author knowing nothing about the Navy or aviation smut coming in part 2 Minors DNI

Call Sign: Avalanche

You hadn't kept in touch with Iceman since graduating from Top Gun. Honestly, you hadn't kept in touch with any of your classmates — it had been easiest to cut all ties. Despite this, you'd have had to be exceptionally observant not to notice the Iceman's rise within the ranks. Not that you hadn't done well for yourself but you were no Commander of the Pacific Fleet. So when Admiral Kazansky put in the call to have you transferred to North Island for a special assignment, you were flattered. Really. You figured that Iceman's recommending you for the job spoke to his appreciation for your shared craft and his belief that you could train the squad to do what needed to be done.

The good feelings last until you learn who you'll be expected to teach alongside.

Maverick.

That's when you see this assignment for what it is: a cruel joke.

Like Iceman, you haven't seen Maverick since your joint graduation ceremony in '85. Unlike Iceman, you actively worked to avoid Maverick. Because it was just your luck that you'd have a history with the Navy's best pilot.

You'd dated for months, though neither of you was brave enough to put words to it. Carole was, though. Date. Relationship. Love. Any time she mentioned it, your cheeks would flame, Maverick would awkwardly look away, and Goose would pull her into a hug, kissing her until she giggled and the topic was changed.

Those were the days. And in a kinder world, things would've stayed like that forever. Instead, Iceman had unintentionally swooped in and blown your good thing to shit.

But even you could admit that it wasn't entirely Iceman's fault. As much as you liked Maverick, you knew that you had to keep your relationship under wraps. Though the Navy allowed women within their ranks, getting the opportunity to become one of the first female naval aviators was still a hard-won privilege and one that you didn't take lightly. The last thing you wanted was for someone to call you out for fraternization and jeopardize your job. And though you looked at Maverick as if he'd hung the moon just for you, you knew that few others within the Navy viewed his endeavors — and you knew they'd consider you, an endeavor — similarly.

But as hard as you'd tried in the beginning, you hadn't been able to stop Maverick from worming his way into your affections. And, it appeared, your efforts were similarly wasted on Iceman.

When you first met Ice, you'd suspected he was a dime-a-dozen. Tall and confident and by the rules. Until you saw him fly. You had an ego like the other pilots who made it to Top Gun, but you, at least, knew when you were beaten. And Iceman had all of you beat. Well, except for Maverick. That appreciation, however, must have been misconstrued. Somewhere along the line, Iceman had gotten it in his head that sliding into the seat next to you at the O Club and flagging the bartender down to grab you a drink was a good idea. You hadn't known he was interested until it was already too late.

You couldn't even remember the words that blew your world to pieces. Only knew that Maverick had his hand around your arm, your drink spilled all down the front of your khakis as he'd hissed and spit until he was red in the face. "You want to fuck Kazansky. Fine. I won't stand in your way."

"Pete."

"I'm done." And he'd gotten on his bike and driven away.

It had been the end of your relationship but the beginning of Maverick's downward spiral.

Goose died the next day.

Maverick turned in his wings.

Iceman won the Top Gun trophy.

Maverick was called away to the USS Enterprise right after the graduation ceremony.

You were long gone before he came back.

But here he is. Strolling into the briefing late, clad in his dad's jacket and old jeans. His brows draw down in confusion when his eyes land on you, his head tilting. Assessing.

At least he hadn't been expecting you, either. Neither of you had the advantage.

"Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell." Cyclone draws Maverick's attention to himself, sitting behind his desk. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Thank you, sir."

Cyclone's frown deepens. "Wasn't a compliment." It does little to humble the smile on Maverick's face, so Cyclone goes on to introduce himself, Warlock, and yourself, though, from the casual greeting they shoot each other, you gather that he and Warlock have met before.

With little delay, Warlock goes on to outline the mission. "The target is an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant built in violation of a multilateral NATO treaty. The uranium produced there represents a direct threat to our allies in the region. The Pentagon has tasked us with assembling a strike team and taking it out before it becomes fully operational."

Warlock goes through his slides. The plant is in an underground bunker at the end of a GPS-jammed valley guarded by an extensive surface-to-air missile array and fifth-generation fighters. "Which, in turn," Warlock continues with another click to zoom in on an aerial view of the nearby airstrip, "are backed up by a plentiful reserve of surplus aircraft. Even a few F-14s."

"Seems like we're not the only ones holding onto old relics." You'd have taken Cyclone's words personally if they hadn't been meant as a blatant attack on Maverick. As it is, Maverick ducks his head as if the shot at him is expected.

"What's your read, Captain?" Warlock breaks the stalemate.

Maverick looks at you briefly before clearing his throat and approaching the projector. You follow along in your own hastily scribbled notes as Maverick talks through the possibilities. GPS-jamming means F-35s are a no-go. The low-level laser-guided strike is about as tailor-made for the F-18 as a mission can get. Two precision bombs. Four aircraft flying in pairs. High potential for g-loc on the way out and a dogfight all the way home. But it can be done. Supposedly.

"It's been a while since I've flown an F-18, and I'm not sure who I'd trust to fly the other three, but I'll find a way to make it work."

And then Cyclone hits you with the twist: "We don't want you to fly it. We want you to teach it."

Twelve Top Gun graduates have been recalled for the special detachment. Among them: Bradley. You can pinpoint the moment Maverick sees Bradley on the board, and you almost feel bad, but Maverick had brought this upon himself. You'd been there to pick Bradley up after Maverick pulled his papers to the Naval Academy. Had jumped in your car and floored it to the Bradshaw residence to hold the boy — now a young man — as he'd sobbed fat, angry tears.

That doesn't mean you don't wince when Cyclone sticks his fingers into the open wound that will evermore be Goose. "Tragic what happened." Even you want to smack the Vice Admiral for that.

But if Maverick has the plan and Maverick is expected to teach the graduates… "Admiral Simpson," you say, breaking your silence as you close your notepad, "I fail to see why I'm needed for this detachment if Captain Mitchell has the planning and training under control." Professional. To the point. "So if you don't need me…." You stand and make for the door. The sooner you can slip away, back to your life without Maverick, the better.

"Not so fast," Cyclone interrupts your exit and leans forward against his desk. "Let me be perfectly blunt. You–" you turn to find him pointing a stern finger at Maverick "–were not my first choice. In fact, you weren't even on the list. You are here because of Admiral Kazansky. Now, Iceman happens to be a man I deeply admire, and he seems to think that you have something left to offer the Navy. What that is, I can't imagine. And he has assured me that you–" Cyclone's steely green eyes lock on you "–can keep him in check."

Well, isn't that rich? "With all due respect, Cyclone, I'm an Admiral for the United States Navy, not a babysitter."

"Well, for the purposes of this mission, it would appear that you are both." He tosses a file onto his desk, and you glare at it. Not only does Cyclone outrank you, but the orders technically come from the Commander of the Pacific Fleet. You could say 'no' and walk away, but unless you're officially dismissed, it's a career-limiting — possibly career-ending — move. Ultimately, you walk back to the desk to pick up the file and stack it on your notepad.

Satisfied, Cyclone turns his attention back to Maverick. "You don't have to take this job, but let me be clear: this will be your last post, Captain. You fly for Top Gun, or you never fly for the Navy ever again."

That night, as you pour over the mission file, you wonder what Kazansky is up to. There's no way he put you, Maverick, and Bradley all in the same place over a mid-life power trip. But you can't figure out what he's out to accomplish for your life.

— — —

Warlock introduces you and Maverick to the twelve graduates. Well, eleven — you both know Bradley. Cyclone is beside himself when Maverick throws away the F-18 NATOPS and shoots you a look, but what does he expect you to do? Fish it out of the trash? This is Kazansky's circus. He can fish the NATOPS out of the trash.

Bradley catches up to you as everyone disperses to get changed into their g-suits for the day's hops. "Why the hell is he here?" he asks, voice low but venom clear in his tone.

"Iceman."

"Figures." Bradley's lips pull into a tight line. "So, what do we do?"

You sigh, exhausted, and the day has only begun. "What we do best, baby bird. Fly."

Frustratingly, Maverick's just as good as you remember him. Better, even. The fire of his youth still there but tempered marginally by time. And you hate to admit it, but you're rusty. No one told you when you joined the Navy that the higher you climbed the ladder, the further you'd get from the sky. You're shot down once by Hangman — which you're sure he'll brag about later at the bar — but Maverick is untouchable.

You're already on the ground when Bradley touches down to do his own pushups. Once your arms have turned to jelly, you let Hondo go with a promise to count the rest for Bradley.

"I told you to fly, not lose your shit," you say once Hondo has walked far enough away to give you the illusion of privacy. Bradley glares at you before returning to his pushups, sweat dripping off his nose and onto the tarmac. "When you let him get to you like that, you give him the edge."

"What does it matter?" Bradley says, taking a seat and looking up at you for the first time since he was thirteen. "He's going to wash me out."

"I won't let him."

Bradley shakes his head. "Don't."

"I won't."

"Well, you couldn't stop him last time." And that's not fair. You weren't the one who'd pulled Bradley's papers. You hadn't even known until the deed had been done. Until Bradley was asking if he could stay with you for a while, and you insisted on driving to him. The same night Maverick's name had become a dirty word to both of you.

You do your best to keep the hurt off of your face. Bradley isn't mad at you; he's stressed and lashing out. But on base, you're still his superior officer. "The four best pilots will be on the mission. Whether that includes you or not, Rooster, is up to you. But it won't if you keep flying like that." You leave when your phone buzzes with a message to meet at Cyclone's office in — you check the time — ten minutes.

— — —

It's cathartic, you decide, to watch someone else lose their shit on Maverick. Unfortunately for Cyclone, though, this is one of the rare times that Maverick's rule-breaking has a defensible reason behind it.

"The hard deck will be much lower for the mission, sir," Maverick responds at your side.

"And it will not change without my approval!" Cyclone snaps. "Especially not in the middle of an exercise. And that cobra maneuver of yours? That could've gotten all four of you killed. I never want to see that shit again." All you do is shrug when Cyclone's stare focuses on you. You aren't sure what Iceman told Cyclone to make him think you could make Maverick behave, but you're not sure what you're supposed to do when you haven't spoken to the man in nearly forty years.

And then they're off again: Cyclone and Maverick. Oil and water.

"You have less than three weeks to teach them how to fight as a team and how to strike the target," Cyclone says, and he looks like he's ready to wave a hand, dismiss you all for the day, and pour himself four fingers of whiskey.

"And how to come home." Your head snaps to Maverick. His lips are parted as if he wants to say something else, but the words must escape him because instead, he repeats: "And how to come home, sir."

You try to swallow, but your throat is dry like sandpaper. Eyes wide, you stare at Cyclone. Coming home had never been a part of the training plan. This — Maverick is the first person to mention bringing the team home. A pit settles in your stomach as the realization of what you've been assigned to hits.

A suicide mission.

You're sending six people into enemy territory to die. Less, if you're lucky, but not everyone is coming home.

Cyclone chooses his next words carefully — "Every mission has its risks." — but they do nothing to settle you. Your blood is on fire, and you're simultaneously hot and cold, an icy sweat breaking out across your temples. "These pilots accept that."

"I don't, sir." Maverick's statement settles around you like a well-worn quilt. You shiver, despite yourself as a part of you that you'd believe to be long-dead flickers back to life. Because at that moment, in those words, you know that Maverick will do everything in his power to ensure everyone comes home. It feels like hope. Like trust. Clumsy fingers pull the feeling tighter around you.

"Every morning," Cyclone breaks the silence, "you will brief us on your instructional plans in writing. And nothing will change without my express approval."

"Including the hard deck, sir?" You're running through a plan to get all the paperwork together to lower the hard deck as soon as the question is past Maverick's lips because, much to your chagrin, Maverick is correct, and you should all be flying much lower to properly prepare.

"Especially the hard deck, Captain."

Without skipping a beat, Maverick hands a manila file over the desk to Cyclone. "Sir." And it appears that years of getting on Admirals' bad sides have prepared Maverick for this exact moment. You have to fight the twitch threatening to bring your lips up at the thought that Maverick knew he was going to break the hard deck and had come prepared with the paperwork already filled out.

When you regroup the next day, the hard deck sits much lower.

In two-plane teams, the graduates take turns flying the simulated course on their nav systems. And because you're going easy on them, they have both extra time and a higher ceiling than they'll have when they fly the actual mission. Even with these allowances, no one can make it to the end of the course. Except for Bradley, but he'd flown too slow despite Yale's insistence that they would be late.

As Maverick and Rooster argue over whether or not running the course in four minutes would be a death sentence, you can see the graduates' faces drop as they come to the same conclusion you'd come to in Cyclone's office: that this mission might not be doable.

"That's no time to be thinking about the past," Hangman says as if he couldn't stand that Bradley's ire had been aimed at anyone else.

Bradley's head whips to Hangman. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Something about this screams danger, but Maverick is frozen to the spot. "Rooster," you say, hoping you can get in front of this; calm Bradley before Hangman can dig his nails in and give him a shake.

Hangman leans back against his seat, a smile curling his lips. "I can't be the only one that knows that Maverick flew with his old man."

"That's enough." Maverick finally snaps out of whatever had held him silent before, but Hangman is undeterred.

"Or that Maverick was flying when his old man–"

"Lieutenant," you bark, "that's enough!" But it's too little too late. The fuse must have been lit before you and Maverick had been on the scene because Bradley is suddenly out of his seat, other graduates clamoring to their feet to grab him or push Hangman out of his reach.

Maverick throws himself into the middle, ordering each man to stand down while Bradley snarls, "You son of a bitch!"

When you get a hand on Hangman's shoulder, he shoots you a self-assured smile. "He's not cut out for this mission."

You shove him away from Bradley. "Walk."

Hangman's pale eyes land on Rooster. "You know it."

"I said walk, Lieutenant." You give Hangman another shove for good measure, and his feet finally begin to carry him away from the situation, but not before his eyes lock on Maverick's over his shoulder.

"You know I'm right."

Back in the hangar, Maverick dismisses the class. You march Hangman to an empty classroom to reprimand his piss-poor behavior. Hangman nods in all the right places, but you doubt any of your scoldings get through to him.

— — —

Getting all the graduates on the same page calls for a new strategy. They can fly the course on their navs until they're blue in the face, but it won't bring them closer together. Won't keep Hangman from leaving his wingman out to dry or light a fire under Bradley's ass. With a few ideas in mind, you arrive at the hangar early, hoping you can snag Warlock and go over some of your ideas before seeking approval from Cyclone.

Instead, you find Maverick.

"You're a bit early," you say as you take a seat atop one of the desks in the back row. And underdressed. It seems that he hasn't updated his wardrobe since the '80s. Instead of khakis, Maverick must have walked onto base today in his jeans and an old, white t-shirt.

Maverick jumps a little bit, then erases an errant mark on the whiteboard with the hem of his shirt and returns to what he was writing. "Yeah," he agrees. "Wanted to get here before everyone else."

Clearly. "And what's that?" you ask, gesturing at the board.

"Oh." Maverick stands back and taps at the board. "New plan for the day. I'd have talked with you about it, but…." He doesn't have your number.

Class on the beach.

Meet at The Hard Deck.

Wear civvies.

"What's at the beach?"

"Dogfight football," he says as if that explains everything.

You cross your arms. "This isn't volleyball all over again, is it?"

"No." Maverick shakes his head with a fond smile crinkling his eyes. “No, this is teambuilding.”

"Ah," you play along and nod as if that clears everything up. "I think that's exactly what Viper called it when he sent us to the volleyball court." More like when Jester had chucked the volleyball at Maverick's head, and Viper ordered he and Iceman get their posturing bullshit over with. They hadn't, of course, but it had been worth a try.

"He did, didn't he?" Before he can start fiddling with the whiteboard marker, Maverick caps it and sets it down. You wonder if he's thinking about it, too. The long summer days. How the sun beat down on all of you until your shoulders were red. Goose. "Let's hope this goes better, then."

When you arrive at the beach, Hondo's already there with two nerf footballs in his hands and a referee whistle around his neck. Maverick's bike is in the parking lot, but you don't see him when you scan the beach.

"Avalanche."

"Hondo."

"Anything I can help you with, ma'am?" Hondo shifts his weight from one foot to the other in the sand. Maybe Maverick had told him about your history, maybe he hadn't, but the two seem close enough. Whatever he does or doesn't know, Hondo doesn't let it come between your professional relationship.

"Just trying to figure out what dogfight football is."

The idea is all Maverick's, but the concept is pretty simple. Offense and defense at the same time. Score by running your ball into the opposing team's endzone before they run their ball into yours. Stop the other team from advancing by grounding their ball.

As Hondo gets into the hastily made-up rules, Maverick comes down from the bar, jeans rolled up to just below his knees and dragging a cooler behind himself. "You made it," he greets you, his movie star smile warm like the sun as the sea breeze tousles his hair.

"What's in the box?" you ask, hiding behind the question and your aviators. Instead of answering, Maverick opens the lid to reveal a multitude of cans. "Beer? On the job?"

"There's water in there, too," Maverick says, digging through the ice until he uncovers a water bottle and hands it to you. You drop the bottle back into the ice with a crunch. "The class on their way?" he asks as he closes the cooler.

"I'm not sure." So you fish your phone out of your pocket and send Bradley a quick text to make sure he's on his way with the others. Truthfully, you hadn't stuck around long enough to be sure. Had simply added your own note below Maverick's before leaving yourself.

Erase after reading.

The class shows up, and shirts come off. You fight to keep your eyes on Hondo as he separates you into teams. For someone pushing sixty, Maverick looks good. Trim waist, toned arms–

"Avalanche." Your attention snaps to Hondo as he motions you to the left. "Orange team."

After a quick huddle, both teams line up. Maverick and Bradley against you and Hangman. You don't have enough time to overthink it when Hondo blows the whistle, and you all take off at the snap.

By the time you stumble to the cooler for some water, you've lost track of the score. Hondo might know, but you doubt it. Laughter rang out from the group as Phoenix brought Fanboy down to the sand. Count on Maverick to succeed where others have failed.

"Looks like your plan worked," you call out as Maverick makes his way over to you, jeans wet and sandy from all the times he'd been knocked into the surf, aviators crooked on his face. You get off the cooler to grab him a water bottle as he sits in the nearby chair and pulls his shirt back on. When you turn around, he's beaming.

"Get him!" Halo screams, and you and Maverick look to where Hondo has intercepted a pass. He looks between the ball and WSO as if he's surprised before he runs, but he doesn't get far before — regardless of which team they're on — the aviators jump on him like a bunch of puppies. Screaming and laughing and wiggling as they bring Hondo to the sand. A laugh escapes you, and suddenly you and Maverick are laughing together. It feels good to laugh with him again.

Not even Cyclone's shadow can dim your shine, but Maverick does peak at him over his sunglasses. "Sir?"

"What is this?" Cyclone asks as everyone sets up again, none the wiser to Cyclone observing from the sideline.

"This–" Maverick gestures to the surf "–is dogfight football."

"Offense and defense at the same time," you say once you take a sip from your water bottle.

Ever critical, Cyclone asks: "Who's winning?"

"I think they stopped keeping score a while ago," Maverick says, his own water bottle crinkling as he drains it.

"This detachment still has some training to complete, Captain." His words are said to Maverick, but they're directed at both of you. Cyclone shooting you a look that says he expected you to do more to keep Maverick on Cyclone's track than go along willingly when he decides to play hooky. And maybe it's because this is the most fun you've had in years, but you'll readily admit that Maverick's plan had worked better than anything you'd wanted to run by Warlock. "Every available minute matters. So why are we out here playing games?"

Bob scores a touchdown, and Bradley lifts him onto his shoulders. Bob raises the ball above his head as the rest of the squad mills about them and chants, "Bob! Bob! Bob!"

"It's a teambuilding exercise, sir," you say, catching Maverick's surprised look out of the corner of your eye. "You asked him to create a team. There it is."

The three of you watch as the group runs into the ocean to cool off, only Hondo appears to be aware of their spectator, but Maverick raises a hand in his direction as if to let Hondo know that you have it handled.

"I expect them to be ready to fly tomorrow." By the time the graduates fish themselves out of the surf, Cyclone is long gone. And as they begin to walk around The Hard Deck with the promise of food and a few rounds of pool, Maverick's eyes find yours through your sunglasses.

"Well," Maverick sighs, hands clapping against his thighs, but he doesn't make to stand up. "I've gotta see if Penny will take some of these beers back."

You nod, dusting sand from your legs and shaking your shirt before pulling it over your head. "Make sure they drink some water," you say because you remember what it was like to be young and in the Navy. "I don't want Cyclone on our asses about them being hungover tomorrow."

"You heading out?" He rises to meet you.

"Yeah." You pat down your pockets to make sure that you have your keys. "It's about that time."

"Stick around," Maverick says when your keys jingle in your pocket. "Penny makes a mean burger."

Mean might be an exaggeration, but it turns out that Penny's burgers are pretty good. You hadn't expected much from a Navy bar, but credit where it's due and all that. By the time Maverick finds you at your booth, he's returned all but two of his beers and passes one of them to you. "I'd have gotten you a glass, but I already paid for these, so…" he trails off, and now that you can see his eyes, he looks uncomfortable standing at the end of your booth.

Maybe you're still running on the endorphins from your teambuilding exercise, or your newly blossoming trust is making you do some weird shit, but you decide to accept the can that Maverick offers you. You crack it open and take a sip, nodding to the bench across from you. Maverick jumps at the chance and slides onto the seat, his elbows resting on the table as he takes a gulp of his beer.

"So," you say, not entirely sure where to start with how long it's been since you've willingly engaged in a conversation with Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, but you're in a mood to humor him, "still a Captain, huh?"

Maverick chuckles. "A highly decorated Captain." It sounds like he's been saying it for years.

The conversation is stilted. Strictly professional. But it's more than you've been willing to give Maverick in years. The conversation is shot dead when the jukebox is unplugged, and Maverick gets a faraway look on his face as Bradley begins tickling at the piano keys. Before long, the rest of the bar is scream-singing Great Balls of Fire along with him, but your silence stretches even after Bradley moves on to the next song. And the next.

Your anger rises with each change of the keys. Finally, you can't take the silence any longer. "It was wrong what you did." It's the least of what you've wanted to say to him for years.

"I did what I had to."

"Bullshit," you grit. You see red. Because who the fuck did — does — Maverick think he is? "You had no right–"

"Carole asked me to do it." He says it so softly that you almost miss it between the clack of the pool table and din of conversation. Of all the defenses you'd been expecting, all the excuses you'd imagined over the years, you'd never…

"What?"

"She– Well, she–" he stumbles over his words. A couple non-starters until he can finally spit it out with a careful look in Bradley's direction. "She never wanted him to fly. Not after what happened to Goose." So there it was. What you'd always assumed was Maverick's own selfish reason for keeping his best friend's son from flying.

But it wasn't his selfish reason. Fuck! You stared into your can, the carbonation fizzing against the thin metal until you could feel it beneath your fingers.

Fuck. You'd had Maverick wrong for years. Bradley had him wrong.

Maverick clears his throat when you don't have anything to say to his overdue confession. "She made me promise before she died."

"How long?"

"The next day," Maverick gives you a sad little smile.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

You still hate it, but you begrudgingly get it now. Years later. Maverick hadn't wanted to pull Rooster's papers. Carole had put him in an impossible position. "You could've lied." You hate to even offer it up. It feels wrong the second the suggestion slips past your lips. Who lies to their friend on the deathbed? But Carole wouldn't have known. She could have died in peace, and Bradley would've been none the wiser.

"I couldn't bring myself to tell her, then…" he shakes his head. "Anyway, I knew Bradley would fly." He gestures across the table at you. "Knew you'd be there to help him get back on track."

But something about all of this still doesn't sit right with you. "Why not just tell him?" You abandon your beer and lean across the table, catching Maverick's downcast eyes. "He's… It would've hurt in the moment, but you've had years." An urge seizes you, and you have to fight every instinct in your body telling you to reach across the table. To cradle Maverick's hand in your own and rub some comfort into the old bones beneath tan skin. "You have to know by now that he'd have understood." That he'd still understand. He'd be angry, but he'd understand.

For all that you were the wind in Bradley's sails after their falling out, you knew you'd always be a piss poor replacement for Bradley's Uncle Mav. God, you wished Goose was there to knock some sense into him.

Maverick takes another sip of his beer, his gaze on Bradley, surrounded by his teammates by the piano. "It's better this way," he says. "I'd rather him hate me than resent her."

"You're an idiot if you think Bradley ever could've hated Carole."

A smile tugs at the corner of Maverick's lip, but his dimples don't pop. "No one ever accused me of being smart."

— — —

You and Maverick play the role of intercepting fifth-gen fighters while the graduates practice the course at speed and attempt to hit an old refrigerator in the middle of the desert meant to simulate the underground bunker.

The day doesn't go as planned.

It starts with several unsuccessful runs, then Coyote going into g-loc, followed by a bird strike that forces Phoenix and Bob to eject. Your hands, steady in the cockpit, shake once you touch down while you try to keep your mind from spiraling. You try to do simple math in your head, and when that isn't distracting enough, you force yourself to look at the positives: Coyote is fine; Phoenix and Bob punched out, their parachutes deployed, and a helicopter is picking probably picking them up right now; Bradley hadn't been in the air.

Bradley.

Thinking about your baby bird makes your breath catch. Heart beating in your throat. How was he handling all of this? Had he watched them punch out? Had he ever–?

Before you can go to him, Maverick is there. "Hey," he says with a hand on your shoulder, and you don't brush it off. The touch is grounding. It's the only thing keeping you from entering a flat spin. "Are you okay?" All you can think is that you should be asking him that. What you muster is a nod. It's been a while since you've been in the air when something had gone wrong, and your mind keeps circling back to Goose. Maverick's eyes study yours before he ushers you toward the building. He asks you to wait before disappearing into the men's locker room and returning with a manilla folder. "Think you can bring Cyclone tomorrow's lesson plan?"

You accept the folder, looking at the thick card stock in your hands. "Where're you going?"

Hesitation and desperation war in his eyes. "Rooster." Ah. Yeah. That makes sense. You want to go after Bradley yourself, but Maverick needs it.

You swallow to wet your dry throat. "Yeah," you croak. "Good. Yeah. I'll make sure he gets it."

Maverick's hand squeezes your shoulder. "Thank you." Then he's gone down the hallway, peering through windows as he goes.

But bad news always comes in threes.

The call comes in while you're defending Maverick's lesson plan.

You hadn't even known that Iceman was sick.

Warlock offers his condolences to Cyclone, then dips out of the room to find Maverick and deliver the news. Seconds later, footsteps hurry past the door and out of the base. A door slamming as the rumble of a bike disappears into the distance.

You stand with your old Top Gun class at the service. Well, the ones who had been able to show up. Slider. Hollywood and Wolfman. Viper.

Ron had tried to get approval to fly one of the jets overhead, but his request had been denied, which, you thought, eying his hands as they shook during the eulogy, was probably for the best. After the service, the five of you grab a drink for old time's sake, and Viper pours one out for your fallen comrade. Maverick doesn't join.

But when it rains, it pours.

An email is all the warning you get that Cyclone is taking over the mission. Maverick's career as a naval aviator is over, but yours isn't. You're expected to stay on. Without Iceman to fight for him, Maverick is grounded. All over the world, you're sure, admirals and air bosses were breathing a collective sigh of relief — but to your surprise, you weren't among them.

For the first time since joining the Navy — with his best friend gone and his career at large buried alongside his wingman — Maverick is well and truly on his own.

Everyone is given a day off to mourn and collect themselves while Cyclone develops a new game plan.

New orders come through the following day. You arrive on base early and are briefed on the latest mission parameters, but they make you feel like you've swallowed lead. It's a feeling you can't shake while you change into your flight suit, a voice in your ear buzzing that you're sending your team off to an early grave. You're on your way to run through preflight to fly an example of Cyclone's plan when you swear you see Maverick out of the corner of your eye.

You squint through the early morning sun. "Maverick?" He puts a finger to his lips and waves you over, and with a quick look around, you go to him. When you're close enough, he pulls you into the shadow of the hangar he's hiding behind so neither of you will be seen by officers about their dailies. "What are you doing here?" you ask, quiet this time. "Cyclone said that you were done."

"Yeah," Maverick said, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "I'm sure he'd like to believe that."

"I don't like that look." But you're smiling.

"A lot of people 've been saying that lately." He smiles back. Then: "I'm going to steal a jet."

"Come again?"

Maverick holds his hands up to calm you down. You must've been loud in your surprise because he's looking around the tarmac like he expects to be found out any second now. "The only way they come home is the way we've been teaching them," he says, and it's truth. You both know it. The squad knows it. Cyclone knows it.

Every mission has its risks. These pilots accept that.

"I won't drag you down with me, but if you could just — I don't know — distract the ground crew while I climb into one of the F/A-18s, I'll deny that you had any part in–"

You hand Maverick your helmet. "Take mine."

"What?"

"I'm set to fly the course in–" you check your watch "–at the top of the hour." With your helmet in Maverick's hands, you begin loosening the strap that fits under your chin so it'll go on easier for him. "Keep your head down and use signals during preflight or you won't make it off the ground."

"Avalanche–"

"Cyclone doesn't think it can be flown, but it can," you say and place your hands on Maverick's shoulders. "Prove him wrong."

"Thank you."

"Turn 'n' burn, Mav."

You make your way to the class after you watch Mav take off in your plane. As luck would have it, you arrive just as your plane appears on the screen.

"Avalanche," range control crackles through the comms, "you are approaching point Alpha. Confirm green range."

"Copy, Range control. Green range is confirmed." Cyclone's eyes find yours when he starts at the very decidedly not feminine voice that responds to the tower.

"Umm… Avalanche?"

"Maverick."

"We have this event scheduled for Avalanche, sir."

"Well, I'm going anyway," Mav says. "Setting time to target: two minutes and fifteen seconds."

You might be the only person in the room who isn't surprised when Mav pulls off his stunt.

Cyclone takes off from the hangar with Warlock hot on his heels. You follow as they pass you by.

"You were supposed to keep him in line," Cyclone says, but he doesn't turn to look at you. Warlock does, you even think he understands why you did it, but Warlock wasn't the one Mav had to convince.

"With all due respect, sir–"

"Dismissed."

Your steps falter. "What?"

Cyclone shoots you a glare over his shoulder. "Go home, Rear Admiral. We will discuss this later." Then to Warlock: "Bring Mitchell to my office. Now."

With no other way to contact him, you head to the Hard Deck, knowing Mav will find you there eventually. You hope he's got good news when he does.

Mav takes significantly longer to show up than you'd anticipated, which is either good or bad. It's a busy night at the bar, the jukebox plays hit after hit, and one unlucky sod has the bell run on him for disrespecting a lady. No one is tossed overboard. You've only managed to drink half of your beer, your stomach lurching uneasily each time you take a sip, and your eyes jumping to the door every time it swings open, unsettled with the knowledge that you all ship out in the morning. That this was the last chance Mav had to prove the mission could be flown, to change Cyclone's mind before the team was selected. That he — you — might have been too late.

Then he shows up. Nostalgia personified in his dress whites, cap tucked beneath his arm as Loverboy croons over the clink of glasses and laughter that fills the bar. Your breath catches in your throat.

This is it. The moment of truth.

Mav's face gives nothing away as he leans in close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. "Take a walk with me?" You abandon your room-temperature beer and follow Mav onto the deck and down to the beach. He lets out a bone-deep sigh as his dress shoes fill with sand.

"What's with the whites?" You're shooting for casual, but you're practically shaking. Is this a final night of glory? A swan song? A victory lap?

"Just seemed appropriate." Mav shrugs and drags out your suffering.

"So," you say, drawing it out until the vowel is lost in the breeze, "did you get canned?"

"No." You give him a look, and he relents. "Close, but no."

The surf fills the silence, but there's only so much it can do before the space between you grows stale. The moment to say something has almost passed when: "Spit it out. We aren't getting any younger."

"I've been appointed team leader."

It crashes into you like waves against the hull of a carrier. The whites, the solemn expression. This is supposed to be goodbye.

"Don't go." And you mean it. Don't even have to think about it.

But Mav's eyes stay on the water. Dark waves gliding up the sand and retreating. "I have to."

"No. You don't."

His shoulders stiffen; you can see it clear as day with the way his whites contrast the inky black of the night sky. "Is that an order, Admiral?"

You scoff. "No. If it was, you'd just break it." Mav chuckles despite himself. "It's a request. From a friend." But the request feels hollow when you put it that way. Tastes like a lie on the back of your tongue.

"I'm the only one who's flown the course in the timeframe. It has to be me."

"Please," you say because you aren't above pleading. Because you're desperate and running out of reasons.

"I love you." The words feel like ejecting without a parachute. Like diving headfirst into an alpine lake at the height of summer — frigid water filling your lungs as you gasp. "Never stopped, but," he pauses, meets your gaze with his own, and for the first time, Mav seems every bit his age. You can't help but feel that he looks all the more handsome for it. "I wanted to say it now. In case I don't get the chance to, later."

You pull him into a kiss and breathe him in like water. Longing. Lingering. Drowning. Mav allows himself to sink beneath the surface with you before his hands cover your own on his cheeks and pulls away. He takes a step back, surfaces, stumbles slightly in the sand. "When I come back," he promises.

And that's precisely what echoes in your head when you hear that Dagger One has gone down.

Read Next Chapter

[sebsxphia]

How do you think Javy, Jake or Bradley would all handle dating someone who is super kind and loving and warm and silly with them and people they know buttttt can be a little intimidating and super deadpan emotionless and icy and serious especially when it comes to work or a serious situation? Like someone who is so silly and goofy with them and loving, will play and is all smiles and dancing in the kitchen- but when it comes to work rarely shows emotion and will absolutely call everyone out on their bullshit and is maybe just sort of absolutely ruthless. (Maybe a data scientist or some other fun field, they’re not mean they’re just very like no bullshit and if you talk to them outside of it super sweet and nice!!)

I feel like Jake would be like I’m gonna marry them?? As soon as he sees that side and so turned on and like yes please??? Javy would be a little like oh shit and then immediately like GO GET EM BABY THATS MY WIFE. And I feel like rooster would be a little terrified but also like holy shit mama, yes please. And ready to get down on one knee? Thoughts please and some head cannons for each maybe ? 😭 thank you!!

good question dear anon!!! 💌💖

I think you’re insanely accurate with all three of them! I’ve touched on Jake being with a hard shelled s/o before here, but he’s definitely so whipped. He loves seeing you order people around and not take any bullshit from your peers.

It’s still pretty early on in your relationship, but he catches you one day before he takes you out for lunch at work, calling out your co-worker and telling them to just do their job properly. It’s then and there that he realizes he loves you and he’s marrying you.

Also definitely gets turned on seeing you be so direct and he’s asking you later in your apartment that night to tell him how you want to be eaten out.

With Javy, he’s incredibly supportive of your strong willed personality. He understands that sometimes you have to fight firm, but fair, in your job and you don’t have time to be made a fool of.

If you come home whining about something your co-worker did that just really pissed you off, he’s agreeing with you all the way and telling you, “absolutely baby! They’re so wrong.” He’ll always have your back.

For Bradley, he’s definitely ready to get down on one knee! He understands where you’re coming from. He’s not taken any shit in his career either and he’s fought tirelessly to get where he is. He may think your methods at first are slightly blunt, but he comes around when you remind him what he’s done.

But for all of them, seeing your softer side later in bed that night once you’ve let out all of your frustrations, really tugs on their heartstrings. They’re so honored that you trust them enough to let down your guard with them.