#and he kept insisting that i needed a rooster as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spideystevie · 2 years ago

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and if i say 3 w hangman 🤭🤭🤭 or 12 w rooster just bc i think thatd be the funniest god damn thing - vinny xx

vinny!!!! went with the hangman (but if u send another with rooster i’ll write it) and this got way out of hand fast i simply couldn’t help it. enjoy <3 (1.4k)

3. smiling into a kiss

Jake Seresin didn’t get nervous.

Well, maybe that’s not true. There was that time he got so nervous in the fourth grade before a math test that he thought he might throw up. He was nervous before his first time flying a jet, even more nervous when he went through his first bird strike.

So maybe Jake did get nervous but only with things that mattered a lot to him, and he hid it well. If someone could read that he was nervous, then that meant they could see right through him and that terrified him.

The point is, Jake Seresin didn’t get nervous. Especially not when it came to flirting and charming his way with somebody. And then he met you.

It was a little intimidating being new in a city you didn’t know. Even more intimidating when your first job in the city is bartending at the local Navy bar. But you needed the money and Penny was welcoming and kind.

You considered yourself to be a fast learner, able to catch on to how the Hard Deck ran and keeping track of the regulars. Despite it all, your first Friday shift was a learning curve you hadn’t quite anticipated. It wasn’t that it was hard, it was just busy. The constant flow of people to and from the bar kept you moving and occupied but it left you entirely overwhelmed, even with Penny and Jimmy there to help you out.

Jake can tell you’re a little frazzled the closer he gets to the bar even though you’re trying your best to hide it. You’re smiling at customers and engaging in conversation with them when you can but there’s a bit of a rushed movement in your hands and your hair’s started to get a little messy.

He leans against the bar, not really in any hurry to get another round for him and Coyote. You see him out of your peripherals and excuse yourself from your conversation to help. But when you open your mouth to speak, Penny fills the beat of silence.

“Hangman,” she greets and he nods in acknowledgment, a smile on his face that’s all charm. You swallow. “Two more?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, though he’s looking at you when he does. His voice is warm in your ears and you blink at him, hardly registering Penny disappearing behind you. His eyes look you over, purely observational he insists in his head.

“Is that your callsign?” you ask once you find your voice. Jake hums, his brows arching as he leans forward more against the bar. “Hangman? Your callsign?”

“That’s me,” his smile morphs into something more of a smirk. You’ve forgotten that it’s the evening rush, even just for a moment when he asks you for your name. Your smile is almost shy when you tell him and he repeats it to himself. “You can call me Jake.”

“Jake,” you repeat, lips involuntarily curling into a small smile. He grins.

Penny returns not a second later with two new bottles of beer and you watch his fingers wrap around the necks of both of them. A drop of condensation rolls off the side of a bottle and onto the bar. “Thanks, Pen!”

Penny smiles and nods before she goes to walk away. She nudges your shoulder almost playfully, maybe even a silent encouragement as she walks past. You try not to feel too flustered as you look over your shoulder at her, fully expecting Hangman to have disappeared when you turn back around.

He hasn’t and your eyes widen only slightly when you see him. Jake’s not sure why he’s lingering, especially when he’s got drops of water sliding onto his fingers from the beers and the knowledge that Coyote is waiting for him back at the dartboard.

It was something about you that kept him in place. It could’ve been your smile or the way your voice sounded when you said his callsign or maybe it was because you were so pretty that he couldn’t help but look. There’s a prick against one of his nerves and suddenly they’re all alert beneath his skin.

He feels nervous standing in front of you and he’s confused because he’s never like this when he finds someone attractive. He had no problem being charming and suave, the right words hanging out of his lips. And yet, he couldn’t seem to find a single thread of thought when you turned back around.

“Need anything else?” you tilt your head and he simply smiles and shakes his head.

“Nope,” he pushes himself off the bar. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, face scrunching when he turns away from your view feeling like he could’ve come up with something a little more charming than that. You watch him walk away and disappear into the throngs of people. Your body feels warm and your chest feels like there’s a swarm in it as you slide down the bar to take someone else’s order.

It goes like that for a few weeks. A simple, almost hidden flirtatious back and forth across the bar. Jake feels like he’s sixteen again around you, fumbling over words every once and a while. You never seem to care, eyes twinkling whenever he manages to offhandedly charm you.

He thinks he’s back in fourth grade again, right before that math test, when he decides to ask you on a date. A foreign feeling of giddiness takes over when you agree, beaming the whole time. He can’t remember the last time he liked someone the way he likes you and it feels thrilling, it feels like the high points of flying a jet.

Jake thinks he’s back in that moment right before he flew a jet for the first time when the day of your date finally rolls around. You seem prettier than ever when he picks you up, a glow like moonlight illuminating you when you see him.

To his relief, it all goes swimmingly. You hold his hand walking from the car to the restaurant for dinner and his nerves seem to wane the more the night unfolds, fading like the sun in the sky at sunset. It’s when the two of you impulsively end up at the beach, the sun starting to set, that they seem to return tenfold.

Because in the glow of the setting sun, you look even more like something from a dream. He can’t stop thinking about how right it feels when your fingers fit in the spaces between his, or how melodic your laugh sounds when he shares an old story from flight school. Truthfully, he can’t stop thinking about kissing you with the crashing waves in the background and the sand under your feet.

He tries to ignore it, tries to push the nerves and everything to the side but he can’t help it. One of his hands comes to hold the side of your face and he hopes you don’t notice the slight nervous tremor. His hand is warm against your cheek and you can’t help yourself from leaning into his palm.

A sticky affection seeps into his chest at the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. You follow the motion, your eyes blinking back up to meet his gaze. The two of you pull together like magnets until your noses brush. You think the anticipation might kill you.

“Can I..” his voice is impossibly quiet and he doesn’t finish his question, but you understand. You nod once, heart pounding against your ribs. His lips meet yours and you nearly sigh against him, your hand coming to hold the front of his shirt.

Your head feels like it’s spinning from the feel of his lips pressed to yours. A tender push against yours, confident and sure that you welcome with ease. It’s hard not to let your lips curl up at the corners, a smile rounding your cheeks.

It feels like your stomach does a nosedive when you feel his smile grow against your own. Something so inherently warm and affectionate about not wanting to pull back even when it’s getting harder and harder to keep your lip pressed together.

You don’t know who relents first, maybe it was a mutual thing, but your faces are beaming. Radiant and shining, rivaling the morning sun when it peeks over the horizon. Jake’s dimple pops at the corner of his mouth and your thumb almost instinctively brushes over it.

Jake Seresin didn’t get nervous, but he’d welcome the anticipatory feeling everytime if it meant he was met with a kiss from you.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin fluff #hangman fluff #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #jake seresin blurb #hangman blurb #📝: a writes!

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tgmsunmontue · 10 months ago

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Team Player 3/7

Hangster. Jake's cousin plays for the Sydney Roosters and gifts him with merchandise regularly. Bradley has an unexpected realization.

PART ONE PART TWO

THREE

“Where am I going to take him?”

“You really need to calm down.”

“Nat, I asked him out and he said yes.”

“Mmm. A complete surprise. Shocking. Truly.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, he’s sort of the type that thinks poking fun of someone is a way of letting them know he likes them… most boys outgrow it before they leave high school.”

“What?”

“He likes you. Has liked you for years. Just… you never seemed to like him back. And now… you do.”

“I want to fuck him, I think liking him back might be stretching it a little.”

“You want to do more than just fuck him. You’re lying to yourself and it isn’t making you look good. You only wanted to fuck him when you saw him plastered with your call sign. You want him to be yours. Like, locked down and married type shit.”

“What?”

“I know, I know. You’re going on your first date, but just let me call dibs on being your best man when you get married.”

“What?”

“Are you broken? You seem broken. You’re saying what a lot.”

“I’m not broken. You’re talking about me and Hangman getting married.”

“Just calling it like I see it. Feel free to try and prove me wrong, although I think you’ll be happier if you just go with my prediction.”

“Can we focus please! Where should I take him?”

“Dinner? Movies?”

“Wow, really original…”

“I can leave.”

“No! Sorry. I’m just…”

“Nervous. I get it. You like him.”

“I do. Fuck. What’s wrong with me?”

“Well, did you want a list or a pie chart?”

“Nat!”

“Sorry. You’re allowed to like him. Apart from his justifiable large ego, he’s actually a decent guy.”

“Okay, yeah. I know. Okay. I think I might take him to Belmont.”

“I thought you said before that you didn’t want anything competitive?”

“We can just do the rides.”

“You both fly fighter jets for a living and you’re going to go thrill seeking at Belmont? Huh. That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Yeah? You think he’ll like it?”

“Seriously, you could suggest watching infomercials and getting pizza delivered and he’d do it, and like it…”

Bradley pulls a face, because he fucking doubts it, but he feels like Belmont Park will be okay. Fun. He lets Natasha leave, insists he doesn’t need her help anymore. He’s decided, even if he’s a little jittery thinking about the fact that he didn’t leave himself more time between asking Hangman out and them deciding the next day was a good day and time. He showers and dresses, pulling on his darkest jeans and oh fuck… maybe he should have kept Natasha here after all. He picks up his phone, opens it up to send her a message and there it is. A message telling him what to wear and he laughs. God she knows him so well. Not a Hawaiian shirt, he can manage that.

He blasts his rev me up playlist on the way to pick up Hangman, hoping it might fill him with some confidence, and it all slips away anyway as Hangman walks down the steps toward him. He looks relaxed, also wearing jeans though his are lighter colored, and he’s wearing a hoodie, something he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hangman wear.

“Am I dressed okay? You’re wearing a proper shirt…”

“Uh, you’re fine. Thought we could go to Belmont.”

“Oh cool, I haven’t been to Belmont in years.”

“Yeah, I thought we could do some rides, eat overpriced food, maybe do some games. I didn’t want to pick anything solely competitive…”

“Afraid of losing to me?”

Bradley rolls his eyes, but Natasha’s words from earlier and running through his head, that this is Hangman’s way of flirting.

“Already got a date with you, pretty sure that’s all the winning I need.”

Jake blushes. Fucking blushes and Bradley looks away and grins, realizing he can throw Jake off with sincerity. He can do that, especially because Jake is even more gorgeous when he looks a little flustered. He reverses back onto the road and heads out, wonders if it’s going to be awkward but Hangman is filling the silence, asking questions about what he’d done with his day off today and talking about what he’s done. The twenty-minute drive goes by quickly, easily, and it makes him feel better about the date ahead. He parks the car and gets out, locking it and then looks up, Hangman has his back to him, is staring up at something, he can’t look because his eyes are fixed on the back of Jake’s back, the word Roosters stretched between his shoulder blades.

He is so fucked.

PART FOUR

#hangster #sereshaw #rooster x hangman #top gun maverick #Team Player

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sheerfreesia007 · 2 years ago

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Stupid Cupid #23

Title: Stupid Cupid #

Fandom: Top Gun Maverick

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 1,479

Warnings: Fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

Prompt: Cheesy Pick Up Line

Gif Credit: @skvatnavle

Bob was trying to enjoy his beer at the Hard Deck as the rest of the squad mingled around him. He was nowhere close to being buzzed or even tipsy at this point but he was fully enjoying the craft beer that you had suggested to him. You were Penny’s new bartender and had a knack for pairing patrons to new drinks that fit them perfectly. Normally it took you a couple of times interacting with the patrons to get a feel for what they liked to drink but once you knew them they were always suggesting new drinks for them to try. And each time you suggested something new nine out of ten times the drink would be well received.

Like tonight you had suggested an imperial stout for him and he was pleased to say that it tasted delicious. It was so good that he knew he would be asking for it again next time he stopped by. His eyes lazily darted over to the Hangman and Rooster as they stood at the pool table together quietly talking. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but by the looks of it it had to do with him as their eyes kept glancing over at him. Feeling bold Bob stood from his spot and walked over to the two aviators.

“What’s going on?” he asked them casually before taking another sip of his beer. Damn that was tasty. He smiled softly into his glass and took another sip before focusing on the two men before him.

“Enjoying your drink Bobby boy?” Hangman asked teasingly and Bob frowned softly at his question. He idly wondered where this was going to go but internally shrugged his shoulders before nodding his head at the man. “That’s good. You gonna go say thanks to your girl for suggesting it?” Hangman asked and Rooster smirked at Bob while wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bob said firmly with a shake of his head. “She’s not my girl.” Bob said almost dejectedly and the reaction from Hangman and Rooster was nearly instant. The two aviators surrounded him and Bob immediately felt as if he was trapped between the two of them.

“But you want her to be don’t you Bobby boy?” Hangman asked knowingly and Rooster nodded his head excitedly at the question.

“Stop calling me that.” Bob said defensively and took another sip of his beer.

“But it’s true isn’t it?” Rooster asked as he watched Bob with wide eyes. Bob sighed softly and nodded his head while Hangman and Rooster shared a look between the two of them.

“First step of healing is acceptance.” Hangman said teasingly and Bob frowned at him.

“Anyway we’ve been thinking maybe you should warm up to her and start talking to her more while at the bar. Maybe strike up a conversation to get to know her better and for her to get to know you better also.” Rooster suggested and Bob nodded his head slowly as he took in Rooster’s words.

“That’s not a bad idea. We could take our time getting to know each other.” Bob said quietly and Rooster nodded his head along with him.

“Great! I’ve some great ice breakers for ya!” Hangman said eagerly and Bob looked at him with a sinking feeling filling him. “You could be smooth and ask her ‘Hey do you believe in love at first sight - or do I need to walk by again?’” Hangman said with the widest teasing grin on his face. Bob felt his face flush and knew exactly what Hangman was trying to do.

“Shut up, I can’t say that to her.” Bob protested while Hangman burst out laughing and Rooster scowled at the cocky man.

“Why not? That’s my best line yet!” Hangman insisted while Bob and Rooster shook their heads at him.

“Seriously that’s your best line? Please I got a better one.” Rooster countered making Hangman look at him expectantly as Bob rolled his eyes.

“Alright then let’s hear it!” Hangman challenged.

“Feel my shirt, know what it’s made out of? Boyfriend material.” Rooster said confidently and Hangman crowed with incredulous laughter.

“That’s your best line?! That’s horrible!” cried Hangman. Bob shook his head as he spotted you over at the bar, you were pouring another pint for Jerry a known local. As you were standing at the tap you looked up and spotted him giving him a happy smile and a saucy wink that made Bob puff his chest out slightly in confidence.

Leaving the two arguing aviators Bob walked back over to the bar and took a seat on a stool. You finished handing off the pint to Jerry and walked over to Bob where you leaned on the bar top across from him and smiled warmly at him.

“So what’s got Hangman and Rooster all ruffled?” You asked casually as you nodded your head towards the still arguing aviators.

“They’re arguing over who’s pick up line is better.” Bob told you and you grinned widely at him as your eyes sparkled. “Neither one of them is any good.” Bob said knowing that you were dying to know what their pick up lines were. He watched as you grinned at him before leaning across the bar to whisper something in his ear.

“I was feeling a little off today- but you’ve turned me on again.” You whispered in his ear and Bob felt a desirous heat immediately consume him at your words and implication. He felt you begin to pull away but he leaned forward catching your attention.

“Even in zero gravity I would still fall for you.” He whispered to you and watched as you pulled slightly back with wide excited eyes.

“I think there’s something wrong with my phone.” You told him loudly making him frown with confusion before you spoke up again. “Your number’s not in it.” Bob grinned proudly at your words. Bolstering himself up Bob spoke up once more.

“Do you like raisins?” He asked you and you tilted your head at his question while trying to hold your smile in. “How do you feel about a date?” He asked and watched as you leaned towards him until you were only an inch away from his face.

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” You asked him softly in a teasing voice. Bob’s eyes darted to yours before he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Cheers went up in the air around the two of you and Bob began to pull away but your hand came up and cupped the back of his head keeping him in place for a little bit longer.

When you finally let him pull away Bob was slightly breathless and you were gasping softly to catch your own breath. Your smile was illuminating and blinding all at once but Bob wanted to stay in the warmth it provided. Sitting back on his stool Bob watched as your eyes darted all around his face hungrily making his body warm with the knowledge that you wanted more of him.

“I get off in fifteen minutes. We can go out for dinner if you haven’t eaten yet.” You suggested and Bob nodded his head eagerly as you grinned pleased at him. You then turned around and began helping Penny with the other patrons.

“Bobby boy! Didn’t know you had it in you!” Hangman called out happily as he slapped Bob on the back harshly. Bob was able to save the last of his beer from falling from his hand as he placed it on the bar top.

“So who’s line did you use?” Rooster asked eagerly and Bob rolled his eyes at the question. He watched across the bar as you began to gather your things and looked over at him with a happy smile on your face. “Bob?” Rooster asked as Bob stood from his stool and begin to walk over to where you stood just outside the bar.

“Whose line did you use?!” Cried at Hangman needing to know the answer. Bob turned around as he reached you and smirked at the two aviators.

“My own!” Bob called out and you laughed happily next to him before walking out of the bar with him. Both Hangman and Rooster stood there shell shocked at Bob’s words.

“He’s got his own pick up line?” Hangman asked softly as he felt dumbfounded.

“It must’ve been a good one to if he managed to land a date with her.” Rooster said shocked as he watched the two of you leave the bar with each other. The two aviators stood there at the bar where Bob left them until Phoenix called out to them telling them that they looked stupid standing there with their mouths catching flies.

#stupid cupid #my writing #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader

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sunflowerdroplet · 11 months ago

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Paging Doctor Duck Ch. 2

“GET…BACK…HERE…YOU!!”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-HA!”

Dr. Donald’s legs and lungs burned as he chased after the troublesome, tiny turtle through the hospital halls. Hospital staff and guests hurried out of the way with indignant shrieks and shouts as doctor and child patient continued their sudden game of cat and mouse. Shelby the Turtle had been one of the patients that he had swapped with Roxanne along with the child’s mother, Mrs. Turtle. Donald had been a little hesitant accepting these particular pair of patients, his temper and bratty children not being a good mix, but the younger doctor had insisted that Baby Shelby was an absolute angel, and his mother was one of the nicest people you could ever meet. Against his better judgment, Donald had agreed.

‘And boy, am I regretting it now…’ the male mallard thought miserably as he continued after the tot, who used his tiny size to easily maneuver through wheelchairs, medical equipment, and between people’s legs, laughing obnoxiously along the way while Donald tripped, stumbled, and struggled over gurneys, Goofy’s mop bucket, and even his own two feet. ‘At this rate I’ll never catch him!’ he thought before he was struck with an idea. Doubling back, he dashed into a side hallway and ducked (heh) behind a corner, hoping to cut the turtle off. A few seconds later, Shelby’s laughter could be heard, and Donald readied himself to strike.

“Three…two…one…”

“Ah-ha-ha-WAH?!”

“Gotcha!”

Donald laughed triumphantly as he held on tight to the baby menace. Shelby began to struggle, but Donald quickly pulled out a strawberry flavored lollipop from his coat pocket, waving it enticingly in his face. “Hey Shelby, want some candy?” Immediately, Shelby stopped his struggling, clearly mesmerized by the offered treat and made grabby-hands for it. The doctor smiled and let him have it, and while the baby was distracted, he pulled out a needle out of his other coat pocket and jabbed him with it before he could react. Donald braced himself and waited for the crying to start, as it usually did when any of his patients, child or adult, but thankfully the sucker did its job and kept the child pacified.

“Phew…” Donald breathed a sigh of relief.

“Nice work, Dr. D!”

“Ay caramba! Such mastery, such skill!”

Donald turned around to see Roxanne pushing Panchito in a wheelchair. Señor Martinez followed behind, happily swishing his tail back and forth when he spotted Donald and greeted him with a sloppy, wet kiss. Much to the duck’s chagrin.

“See? I knew you could handle him!” Roxanne said with a smile.

“Yeah, well it helps when you’ve got experience from raising one’s nephews,” Donald replied, unconsciously wiping off the horse slobber from his face. He gave the Mexican rooster a questioning glance. “What are you guys up to?”

“I’m finally being discharged, amigo! I cannot wait to get home and eat my mama’s cooking! No offense, but the hospital food is a little…”

“…It’s not…that bad…?” Roxanne started, a sheepish grin on her face as she tried to delicately critique the food. “…But it could be better.”

“It’s terrible,” Donald stated point-blank. “Director Mickey claims he’s gonna get better cooks, but he’s too nice to get rid of the old ones! That’s why I bring my lunch from home.”

Shelby blew a raspberry, shaking his tiny head in disgust at the thought of the hospital’s food. This caused Donald to smile, for once they were in agreement with each other about something.

“HEY DUCK!!”

Both doctors and patient jumped at the angry sounding voice before turning around to see a female turtle stomping her way towards them. Donald trembled at the sight of her, his ears still ringing from her earlier beratement. He smiled nervously, hoping she was in a better mood than before. “Y-Yes, Mrs. Turtle?”

“Have you finished giving my precious baby Shelby his shot?! I told you we have a meeting at the Daycare, AND WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW SO WE’RE NOT LATE!!”

“Yes, ma’am! Of course, ma’am! Shelby is all ready to go!” the mallard said as he held out the baby to his overbearing mother.

Almost instantly, the angry scowl melted from the older’s turtle’s face as she retrieved her baby. “Oh thank you, Doctor Duck! Why, it doesn’t look like he cried at all! Were you good for the doctor, Shelby?” The tiny turtle eagerly nodded his head while the waterfowl bit his tongue to stop himself from saying the contrary. “And thank you, Doctor Roxanne for recommending Doctor Donald! He really is great with children!”

“I told you~.”

“Si, si! Donal’ really is amazing!”

With a final wave, both mother and baby turtle went on their way, leaving Donald, Roxanne, and Panchito to sigh in relief.

“Yowza! Mamá Tortuga sure is loud and aggressive!”

“She may seem a bit much at first, but she can be really sweet once you get to know her!” the female doctor explained.

“That sounds a lot like Donal’.”

“Hey!”

~*OoO*~

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” muttered Donald as he pulled up in front of large ranch with horses and cattle milling about.

Today was supposed to be the doctor’s long awaited day off, but of course, as he was leaving work the night before he happened to overhear a conversation between Roxanne and her boyfriend, Max, who worked on the custodial staff part-time.

“Are you sure you can’t make it tomorrow?” asked Max, pleadingly.

“I’m sorry, Max, but something came up, and I’ll be swamped all day. We’ll have to reschedule our date to a later time…”

Donald had wanted to keep walking, that was life working at a hospital; you could be called in to work at any given moment and that was something the younger doctor had deal with, just like everyone else. Unfortunately, his traitorous legs pulled him to a stop and made him turn around and walk back to the young couple.

“…I can take over for your shift…” Donald said when the pair noticed his presence.

“Huh?”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” the older doctor said with a wry smile. As much as Donald wanted to enjoy his day off, he knew what overworking did to couples. He’d been dumped by his girlfriend, Daisy, thanks to his chaotic work schedule, among other things. And that was the last thing he wanted for Max and Roxanne. “Go on and enjoy your date tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank you, Dr. D!” exclaimed the redhead as she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “But are you sure?” she asked cautiously, eyes holding guilt “ …I was supposed to pay a house-call to Mr. Panchito …”

“…urk…”

“…And Mr. José…”

The duck swallowed hard at the news, fighting to keep his face neutral while Roxanne and Max watched on worriedly, like they knew how much he was regretting his decision. “I…I meant what I said, and I said what I meant! Now, hurry up and go before I change my mind! Go on, get!”

Max grabbed Roxanne’s hand and together they ran for the exit. “Thanks, Dr. D!” they chorused.

“Me and my big , stupid, bleeding heart…” he mumbled as he got out of car, grabbed his medical bag and made his way towards the house. As Donald drew closer, he could hear the sound of music being strummed on guitar and someone singing. As he reached the front porch, he gasped in horror when he saw not one, but two familiar faces sitting there.

“Hey! It’s Doctor Donal’!”

“Really?!Doutor Donaldo is here to take care of us?!”

Donald balked, slowly backing away to get back into his car. It was one thing to deal with the southern birds individually, but together?! No thank you! Unfortunately for Donald, it was at this time that Señor Martinez made his presence known by snatching him up off the ground, dropping him upon his saddle before galloping towards the porch where Panchito and José were eagerly waiting.

“Welcome to my humble hogar, Donal’!” the rooster greeted cheerfully when the horse deposited the duck onto the porch. He made a move to get out of his seat, but a quick glare from the duck had him easing back down.

“Not that we’re not super happy to see you, but what happened to Doutor Roxanne? I thought she was supposed to be here?” asked José.

“I decided to take over for her shift so she could have more time off…” the duck muttered, wishing for the tenth time today that he’d just kept walking.

“How incredibly nice of you, Donaldo!”

“He is a wonderful person, is he not?” exclaimed Panchito, slapping the duck hard on the back.

The unexpected praise from his patients caused the temperamental mallard to blush despite the stinging in his back. He cleared his throat and asked, “So uh, why are you two here together, I wasn’t aware you guys knew each other.”

“Oh yes, me and Panchito met at the hospital where we bonded over the less-than-appetizing food and our favorite doutor!” said the green parrot.

Donald nodded along absently as he pulled his medical supplies from his bag. “Yep, yep, Roxanne is an incredible doctor,” he said in agreement. The younger medical professional was the ‘Employee of the Month’ for the third time in a row after all.

The parrot and rooster shared a confused look with each other. “Uh Donaldo, we were referring to you!”

“Huh?”

Panchito slapped Donald on the back again. “Don’t get us wrong, amigo. Roxana is a wonderful doctor, but you’ve been taking good care of us for so long!

“Yeah! I doubt we’d be in such great shape if it was not for your, as you Americans say, ‘tough love’!”

Donald was becoming increasingly flustered with all the compliments being thrown his way. He would receive the odd compliment here and there at work, but never to this magnitude. A small smile soon found its way onto his reddening face. “Uh…t-thank you. That…that means a lot…” He then cleared his throat to get back into his medical mindset. “A-Anyway, let’s start the check-up! Do you want to be seen privately, or are you both okay with being checked-up together?”

“I don’t mind José sitting in. He already knows about my leg injury!”

“And Panchito knows about my blackened lungs and head injury!”

“Gotcha,” Donald replied, moving to start his medical exam, beginning with Panchito. “Have you been taking care of that leg like I asked? Making sure to stay off your injured leg and avoiding strenuous activities?”

“O si, si, I have! You can even ask José, I’ve been sitting here and taking it easy, just like you’ve prescribed!”

The duck inspected the rooster’s elevated leg, nodding in satisfaction when it didn’t appear to be swollen and seemed to be healing nicely. The rest of the exam went along smoothy, and Donald was glad to give his patient the positive results. “I’m impressed, Panchito! Your recovery is coming along nicely. Then again, you’ve always been incredibly sturdy.”

“Gracias, amigo! I have you to thank for my continued health!”

Donald flushed again before turning to his other patient. “And you, Mr. Carioca, have you’ve avoided smoking these last few days?” the white-feathered male asked while checking José’s heartbeat with his stethoscope. “…And flirting with the ladies with possessive boyfriends?”

“Indeed, I have, my friend! Check it out! Haaaaa!”

“Ack!” Donald hadn’t been prepared for José to breathe directly in his face but was relieved that it smelled minty fresh instead of old cigars.

“And you can even ask Panchito, I’ve been a good boy and followed your orders to the letter!” the Brazilian bird exclaimed with a bright smile. “So, so, are you proud of us?”

Donald blinked in surprise at the question and the hopeful look in the southern birds were leveling him with, like they were eager for his approval. “Uh…yeah, yeah I guess I am. Good job, you two,” the doctor said with a small, genuine smile.

The rest of José’s check-up went well, and doctor was pleased to give his patient a positive review. Job now done, he began packing up his things to leave, now feeling grateful that Panchito and José had been together, so he only had to make one trip.

“Aw, do you have to leave so soon?” asked the reddish-brown rooster.

“Yeah! Stay a little longer, Donaldo! Panchito is a really talented guitar player!”

“And José is sings very well!”

Well, that explained the music he heard earlier. “As fun as that sounds, I promised my nephews I would take them to the movies after I was done here.”

“I understand. It is no surprise that you would be good tio, who takes care of his little ones! But wait, maybe you can come visit the club I work at! You both should come! We’ll have a great time!”

“I don’t---”

“That sounds like a great idea!” shouted Panchito excitedly. “And you both should come to one of my rodeo shows, after I have fully recovered, of course! You can even bring your nephews along, Donal’. It’ll be a lot of fun!”

Donald felt off balance at anyone, much less his patients, wanting to spend more time with him than necessary. “Uhhh…I’m not sure if that’s…”

The green parrot grabbed the duck’s arm before he could back away from them. “I go back to work soon, Donaldo…don’t you want to make sure I don’t get hurt or strain myself?”

“…Are you using your health to blackmail me into going…?”

“Is it working?” asked Panchito.

Seeing that his two patients weren’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer, Donald sighed and gave in. “…Fine. I’ll see if I can make time for a visit…” As the southern birds and even the horse started to celebrate his acquiesce, Donald could only hope he wouldn’t regret his decision.

‘Boy, what did I get myself into…?’

TO BE CONTINUED…

#donald duck #donald x panchito x jose #the three caballeros #fanfic #three gay caballeros #panchito pistoles #jose carioca #disney

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lilja-the-alchemist · 3 months ago

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14th Day of the Fifth Passive Moon, Draconic Cycle

I needed to pass through a grove on my way to the next town. My map indicated that the place was protected by Harpies. Normally I’d go around such dangerous areas, but my new companion insisted she could defend me from any malicious creature we encountered.

Verena insisted she join me on my journey, both to thank me for the medicine and because our goals were pretty much aligned. I was traveling the continent to discover new flora and fauna for alchemical research, and she was traveling the same path to gain much-needed practical combat experience. She would stop from town to town to work as a hired sword much like how I would set up an apothecary.

We pressed on and, to our surprise, found a large Harpy statue right by the entrance, just to the side of the road. Vines and other wild plants had started crawling up its highly detailed leg feathers. We were just going to pass through when Pesto started making a fuss about it. I tried to scold him and tell him that it was just a statue when he turned to me and I heard a woman’s voice in my head.

“Help.”

Symptoms:

Full body rigidity

Immobility

Earth-aspected Transmutation

Diagnosis:

Clearly Petrification. But why? And from what?

Pesto and I interviewed the Harpy while Verena kept watch. Her name was Pinaria, and she was the guardian of this grove. She had been stuck there for months and was bored out of her mind. She said she had probably counted every blade of grass and every single ant in her immediate area.

I asked her how she got this way, and she explained the series of events based on what she knew personally and what she had heard from people passing by her. A nearby town just beyond the grove had begun a campaign to minimize diseases, and one of their measures was to bring in stray cats from other towns to eliminate the local rats. This move made every and all rodents in the area to move into the grove where nuts, berries, and groves were abundant.

The Harpy celebrated the newfound food source at first but couldn’t handle all of them. This sudden abundance of rodents attracted other Birdfolk into her domain… One of them was a flock of Cockatrice. In a bid to protect her domain, she tried to fight one of them but, well… That didn’t turn out so well for her.

Cure:

A bottle of Stonebane, applied liberally all over the head of the patient.

Stonebane Salve

1 handful of Velvetmoss

3 pieces of Fluffcap Mushrooms, whole

5 tablespoons of powdered Mallowroot

Simply boil all three in 5 cups of the salve’s base liquid for one hour.

Pesto could grow most of the ingredients. One problem: the base liquid for Stonebane needed to be blood from the same type of beast that cast it.

Verena beamed and said it was no problem at all, and asked me if I’d like roast Cockatrice for dinner tonight. I laughed at the thought of such a humongous beast being spit-roasted like a common chicken.

I accompanied Verena into the grove with my own offensive potions and poisons, but she insisted she wanted to take this chance to stretch after spending all day yesterday coughing up ice. And she said she wanted to showcase her skills to me since we’d be travel companions from now on.

It didn’t take long before Verena tracked down the large bird. I watched as she took the bird by surprise, immediately dealing it a hard blow to the torso. The oversized rooster lunged at her, but she managed to brace herself, swiftly lifting her shield while the bird snapped at her with its sharp beak and beat her with its wings. I could feel the gusts from where I was standing, but it didn’t faze Verena at all. She kept her gaze low, focusing on the Cockatrice’s midsection, so as not to suffer the same fate as Pinaria.

Parrying one strike after another, the knight saw an opening and slashed open one of the beast’s wings, grounding it and leaving it with one less offensive option. It recoiled in surprise at the sudden jolt of pain and its opponent’s swiftness. Seeing her chance, Verena raised her shield, braced herself, and lunged forward, ramming into the creature’s chest and very audibly cracking its ribs. Before it could fight back, Verena sunk her blade into the bird’s neck, decisively ending combat.

… In my strictly professional medical opinion, my new travel companion still looked graceful covered in sweat and sprayed with bird blood. My heart was pumping loudly from the excitement! I felt a lot safer having someone around who had experience in combat.

We dragged the Cockatrice back to where Pinaria was. I apologized for the wait, and she said it wasn’t like she had other things going on. I went to work on the Stonebane Salve as Verena cleaned herself up at a nearby spring. After an hour, the salve was ready.

Once freed from the curse, Pinaria was thankful and said she’d help us carry the Cockatrice carcass as close as she could to the next town. We agreed, and Verena and I discussed which parts we would keep for dinner (and alchemical samples) and which ones we could sell to the town butcher.

#writing practice #journaling rpg #solo rpg #oc #oc rp

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

Champagne Lips | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley both try to claim the last bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve.

Warnings: Pure fuff with some swears

Length: 1000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bradley scanned the liquor aisles for the champagne section. The store was packed, but it was Bradley's own fault for waiting until the last possible minute to shop. He was literally on his way to Fanboy's house to celebrate New Year's Eve.

"Here we go," he muttered, reaching for the last bottle of champagne on the shelf. Just as he wrapped his hand around the middle of the bottle, a smaller, faster hand grasped it by the neck. He pulled the bottle toward him, and you came along with it.

"Hey!" you complained, trying to pull the champagne out of his hand as you stumbled against him.

You stopped yourself by grabbing his shoulder with your free hand, and Bradley got a good look at you.

"Oh, shit," he whispered. You were cute. Bright eyes, glossy lips, long eyelashes. He let his eyes dip a little lower on your body, and he knew instantly that he had made a mistake. Because everything was just the way he liked it. You huffed at him, and he liked that too.

"Can you let go of my champagne now?" you asked, quickly withdrawing your hand from his shoulder. He grinned at the look of agitation on your features. "I'm running late."

He immediately missed the contact of your warm palm against his tee shirt. "Wait, you think this is your bottle of champagne? I had it first," he insisted, if for no other reason than to keep you talking.

You cocked your head and gave him a bland look. "No. I had it first. So, if you don't mind..." He watched you tighten your grip on the neck of the bottle and give it a sharp pull. But he was a lot bigger and stronger, and there was no way he was letting you have it that easily. He didn't care how damned adorable you were.

He just shook his head and kept on grinning at you. "Well, I do mind. I need this for a party. And besides, I had it first."

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. "That's not really going to work for me. Because I need it for a party. I promised I would bring champagne, and I'm running really late."

Bradley kept a good grip on the bottle while you tried to wrestle it from his hand. He let you yank it toward you a few times before he started chuckling.

"It's not funny," you told him, but he could tell you were trying not to smile. With one more sharp tug, the back of Bradley's hand brushed against your chest, and he was so surprised he almost lost his grip.

He managed to keep himself under control as he said, "Well, it is kind of funny. It's the last bottle of champagne in the store, and we both want it."

Bradley eyed you up and down. Now you were trying to peel his fingers off of the bottle, but he was so used to gripping the throttle of his Super Hornet, he doubted you'd be able to get very far.

You sighed deeply, now examining him like he was a pitiful child, but that smile was still dancing along the edge of your lips. "How about we flip a coin?"

"No," he told you, pulling you and the bottle a little closer to him. You let him slowly pull the bottle up into the air until you were practically chest to chest with him, still insisting on hanging on but not pulling the bottle back toward you.

You locked eyes with him and softly said, "Or, I could buy you a bottle of wine to take with you to your party, and I'll take the champagne with me?"

"I don't like wine," he replied with a smile, and you gave him one to match. "I only like champagne."

You licked your lips and whispered, "We could both set it down and agree that neither of us will buy it?"

You were so close now, and he was thinking about kissing you at midnight. "I have a better idea. How about I buy the champagne, and you come to my buddy's party with me?"

Bradley watched you examine his face, but you didn't back away. "Are you asking me out?"

Now he was a little nervous that you'd say no. If you did, he'd let you have the bottle, and he'd be on his way. "Yeah, I'm asking you out. You're checking all the boxes for me. You're cute, you like champagne, and you're giving me a hard time."

He listened to you laugh, your hand still firmly holding the bottle up in the air with his. "You're kind of cute too..."

Bradley's grin lit up his face. "Come to Mickey's party with me. I'll even let you drink the whole bottle of champagne if you want."

You gasped. "Mickey's party? Mickey Garcia?"

Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "You know Fanboy?"

You laughed as Bradley lowered his arm and the champagne bottle to his side, and your hand followed along. "Yeah, I'm his neighbor. We're going to the same party!"

He shook his head. "What are the chances?" Then you both burst into laughter. You were laughing so hard, your hand ended up on Bradley's shoulder again.

"What's your name?" Bradley asked, and you took a steadying breath and told him. "I knew you'd have a pretty name. I'm Bradley. And I really think we should go to the party together."

You nodded and finally released your hold on the bottle. "Okay, but you're buying the champagne, and I'm drinking all of it."

"Deal."

-------------------------

At nine o'clock, you and Bradley recounted your champagne story to Fanboy who found the entire thing hilarious.

At ten o'clock, you sat next to Bradley and let him put his arm around you.

At eleven o'clock, Bradley asked you out on a real date, and you said yes.

And just before midnight, Bradley opened the now infamous bottle of champagne and poured a flute for you. When you offered him a sip, he said, "No, it's all for you, just like I promised."

When everyone counted down to midnight, you kissed Bradley, and he could taste the champagne on your lips.

------------------------

Happy New Year!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster x female reader

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knightlycowboy · 2 years ago

Text

Hell of a View - Rooster x Reader (Nickname Ginger)

This fic is the result of being unbelievably down bad for Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.

DISCLAIMER: This is only my second finished fanfic, and the first one I've ever published.

Title inspired by Hell of a View - Eric Church and credit goes to @patheticallydimwiiitted for the song rec/bonkin'-in-the-Bronco suggestion.

Don't copy my shit, plz. Not that it's amazing but like, honor code, guys.

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT (more like sweet smut though), fluff, sexual harrassment/assault references, blood, Rooster punches a douchebag.

WORD COUNT: 5,750

Your skirt flares as you turn to grab the dirty glasses from the bar. As you spin, you feel the breeze from the front door opening. A tall, dark-haired man is walking in toward the bar.

“What can I get you?” You ask, immediately regretting having spoken as you recognize the man.

“Well, hello, Ginger. Look at you still serving us boys- I figured you’d have been snapped up by now.” He taunts, a hungry look in his eyes at his recognition of you. You’re incensed to hear your favorite nickname come from that mouth once more. It had been given to you by some regular bar patrons after a particularly unfortunate box dye incident, and this man did not deserve to speak it.

Your heart stutters for a second, and anxiety rises in your throat. After three years, the man who harassed you has returned from deployment. You hate confrontation, especially at work. It’s not the best character flaw to have when you work in a Navy bar, but it’s you.

“You were banned, Jekyll. You’ve been banned for a while now.” It’s said quietly, but you hope it’s forceful enough. In your peripheral vision you see a man’s head turn sharply at your words. He’s behind Jekyll to the left, seated at the piano, yet no longer tinkling random keys. The bar was relatively empty for a Thursday night and the same few songs kept being selected by one blonde man playing pool with a few buddies. Some 70s rock song was whining from the jukebox.

“That’s the thing - it has been a while. I’m not the same,” he insists. “Anyway, someone told me this place lifts bans after a year.”

“Listen, I don’t know who told you that but they were wrong.”

The brunette man steps closer to the bar. “I’m sure Penny wouldn’t mind me being here for just one visit. I don’t think you truly mind, either.” His smile is leering. He’s trying to unnerve you. Unfortunately, it’s working. Your mind tumbles back to the feel of his rough hands grabbing your ass like he was trying to leave bruises, his gin-scented words whispered in your face as he pressed you into the wall behind the bar that night. He had taken and dropped the trash bag you’d been holding (“This is no job for a pretty girl”) and held your hands above your head. Once your mind had unfrozen, you managed to knee him and dash inside. He had been after you for weeks at that point. Penny banned him immediately. For good.

“I do mind. You need to go.” You say a little firmer. The glass in your hand is shaking from the memory. The left window behind Jekyll darkens as the silhouette of a man rises.

“C’mon, swee-” Jekyll starts to say. A hand lands on his right shoulder.

“She said get out, man,” the auburn-haired pianist states. He briefly scratches the corner of his mustache with his other hand - as if he couldn’t be more relaxed.

Jekyll spins. “What the fuck? Lieutenant Bradshaw?” He laughs, seemingly genuinely pleased to see the man, “Hey, man, how ya doin’?” Then his tone shifts to one a little more antagonizing, “You ain’t been in town for years- you really think you have a say in this, ol’ Rooster boy?”

“Nope. She does, though.” Rooster is so calm, it starts to soothe you, too. You recognize the man who always thanked you after every drink with a “ma’am” despite telling him multiple times to call you ‘Ginger.’ Sometimes when you’d hand him his drink your fingers would touch. He was always warm. Always laughing, singing with anyone. You’d had a serious crush on him since you first saw him. Now, the scars on his neck and chin are illuminated by the sun’s reflection on the bar. His eyes are hard.

“You’re leaving.” You affirm to the other man with the most confidence you’ve felt yet. You set the glass down and begin to walk around the bar.

“You’re being ridiculous. You’re kicking me out because, what, I fuckin’ complimented you years ago?” He scoffs.

Your steps falter for a second at his callous disregard of his own actions, but you reach the front door and throw it open. Rooster’s eyes look up from your feet and you make eye contact - he had noticed. For a second, you feel self-conscious under his gaze.

Jekyll snaps you out of it. “You’re not even giving me a chance. What a bitch. Stuck up cun-” He doesn’t get to finish the vitriol as his jaw is snapped sideways by the punch. Teeth clack together and a grunt issues forth. Rooster shakes his right hand out once. His lip is curled in a snarl; his eyes flash at the other pilot. You feel your mouth drop open in shock.

Jekyll stumbles - away from Rooster and, unfortunately, toward you - and nearly falls before righting himself. He’s far too close now.

“What the fuck, man!” He shouts. The entire bar is silent. “I said, what the fuck, Bradshaw?”

No one says anything. You’re frozen once again as Jekyll looms a couple feet from you. At least you had the benefit of the bar before. Nothing separates you from the anger of the man who now towers over you. His head jerks to you. You’re the easier target.

“This is your fault,” he snatches at your arm, but Rooster is there. He shoves the angry man out the door.

“You know the rules,” Lieutenant Bradshaw laughs roughly, “‘No disrespecting a lady.' C’mon, let’s go, dickhead.” He isn’t suggesting Jekyll go outside alone; it’s a challenge. Rooster stalks out the door after the man into golden-hour light. Your mind spins as you can only watch. The image of Rooster Bradshaw, Hawaiian shirt askew, his knuckles bloody, his hair aflame with the sun, stuns you briefly - and it's a hell of a view.

“You can’t just fucking grab her, and you won’t touch her again. You won’t come back,” Lieutenant Bradshaw orders. “Are you clear on that, Jekyll? I can make it clearer.”

“You’re a fuckin’ pussy. You’re gonna take her side? You’ve known me since A School, man. All this over a four?” Jekyll shouts, insulting you again.

Rooster takes three powerful strides until he’s in Jekyll’s face but he says nothing. Jekyll’s jaw visibly clenches as if deciding something.

He makes the decision.

His left fist slams into Rooster’s stomach; but Rooster was prepared for a low blow, so he hardly bends forward at the pain. However, Jekyll’s right fist lands on the side of Lieutenant Bradshaw’s face, and Rooster staggers sideways two steps. Both men are six-foot-nothing and well-built, but Bradshaw has a stronger emotion than anger on his side. His left hand grabs Jekyll’s shoulder and his right slams into the center of the smaller man’s face once, twice. Jekyll stumbles away again, falling this time to his knees, but he staggers to his feet quicker than you like. His eyes are livid, his mouth and nose full of blood.

Rooster stares him down, a drop of his own blood on the left side of his mouth. His hands are balled and he breathes heavily in anger, facing the sunset.

“I do not understand your problem here, man,” the banned pilot shouts.

“You don’t need to,” Rooster answers. “You just need to fucking leave.” Rooster straightens his tall frame, and repositions himself so that he’s blocking the entrance to the bar.

“Know when you're beat, man,” he warns as Jekyll starts toward him, but then a man pushes brushes past you, then another, then a third. The other Hard Deck patrons have seen enough and two of them pull Jekyll away. One man stands in front of the Lieutenant, defusing. Rooster nods once, then deadpans: “Hilarious coming from you, Hangman.” He then turns around to face the building - and you.

His eyes meet yours, and you’re sure you look terrified. Fights aren’t totally uncommon at the Hard Deck, but fights in which you’re the topic of debate certainly are. Could you lose your job for not stopping the fight? No, surely not. Would Lieutenant Bradshaw get in trouble? Probably, the Navy didn’t appreciate fights between servicemen. It was nice of Rooster to kick Jekyll out, but to continue the fight? How could he have taken that so personally?

“I’m sorry about that,” you apologize as he nears you, though you did nothing wrong. “I- I never expected him to come back here.”

“‘s’not your fault he’s a fuckin’ dick.” He smirks, his mustache quirking up at the corner. He works his jaw around, testing to see if it was truly damaged. His sweat glistens on his forehead, across the small bit of chest visible in the brilliant light; the veins in his neck are pulsing. You notice his Hawaiian shirt is skill askew and the white undershirt has taken a drop of blood from his mouth.

“Let me help,” you hear yourself say; your stomach knots. The adrenaline is wearing off and you’re worried about what to say to the intimidatingly beautiful man who just took two punches - For me? You wonder. You start walking into the rear of the Hard Deck. His slow, sure footsteps echo behind you as you step into the cleaning closet and grab a first aid kit. Then into the kitchen for some ice. When you reutrn, he’s seated at a table in the corner. He’s facing you and he looks oddly satisfied, you think. A strangled giggle leaves your mouth at the absurdity of the situation.

“What?” He asks. “You alright?” When you don’t reply, he continues, “That bastard owes the whole bar a round, but I think he owes you a lot more, honey.”

You smile softly at the concern, but your heart thuds with his use of the pet name. “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” You debate telling him why Jekyll upset you so easily. You want to open up to him, to explain why you were so shaken when that asshole walked into the Hard Deck. Plus, why should you be ashamed of what Jekyll did all those years ago? That was on him, not you. So, you tell him the short version.

“A few years ago, he tried to- well, he grabbed- he kind of- touched me.” You finish lamely, partially second-guessing your decision to tell him such an uncomfortable thing.

He’s silent for a moment, his jaw clenching. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters. The veins in his tanned neck are visible again and your mouth is dry. “If I’d known that I’d’ve kept goin’,” he snorts.

“No, I’m really grateful for your help, but I’m glad you weren’t more seriously hurt,” you say, staring at the small cut on his cheekbone. It ran parallel to one of his other scars. How had he gotten those? The one on his neck looked downright inviting. You shamelessly let your eyes drink him in.

“Mmm, you don’t think I could’ve taken him?” He teases, examining his hand.

“Oh,” you breathe, “I think you could take just about anything.” You weren’t just thinking about fighting anymore, and it resonated in your voice. You bite your lip to prevent further embarrassment spilling from you.

Rooster hears the want in your voice. He's been waiting to hear it. His hooded eyes look up at you through dark lashes and he challenges, “You think you could take anything?” His voice is husky, suggestive.

He lifts up his right hand and you wildly think for a moment he’s going to grab your waist, but then you realize it’s for the bandage you’re holding. You take his hand in your own and carefully wrap the bloodied knuckles with gauze, remembering the times you’d accidentally touched his fingers. You had been right, he was warm. Being close enough to touch him, you smell the sea salt and sweat on him. It shouldn’t be as pleasing as it is. You can feel his eyes on your face, though you keep your own on the gauze. You’re working slowly because you don’t want the moment to end, and you’re afraid of what happens when it does. Your hands tremble, but his are steady. Then, inevitably, you tie the gauze. Your eyes flick up to meet his.

His pupils are blown, the deep honey color of his irises ringing the space you’re falling into. Your stomach drops, leaving you feeling untethered. His mouth opens, his tongue flicking across his lips to wet them absentmindedly. The movement brushes his mustache briefly and you want to do the very same.

“How long is your shift?” he asks, breaking the silence. His dark eyes commanding your attention.

“I close,” you breathe out ruefully, frowning.

“Aw, well that’s a shame, sweetheart.” He drawls, waiting for another answer.

“I’m off tomorrow?” You’re unsure why you phrase it as a question.

His face cracks into a smile that would break your heart if it didn’t send you soaring instead. “How do you feel about flying?”

“Flying?” You’re taken aback. You’ve not been on an airplane in years; the last trip had you kissing the ground upon arrival, but you’re not totally opposed to the idea - especially if your pilot was the best the Navy had to offer.

“Sure,” he answers, “Mav’s got this two-seater we’ve been working on. I think it’s ready for a go.”

You only know who “Mav” is because Penny’s been flirting with him at the bar for the past month or two. Though you had noticed him watching Rooster play and sing, the connection between the two hadn’t been obvious.

Not wanting to give in too easily, you tease him, “Hmm, could be fun. But I think it depends.”

His eyebrow quirks, “Depends on what?” The chair creaks under his weight as he sits up straight, ready for your stipulations. He’s so tall that even while sitting he’s eye-level with you.

“On who will be piloting.”

His jaw drops, his hand goes to his chest in mock-offense. “Wow. Just cut me to my core, huh?” His smirk returns, “Alright, fine, offer revoked.” Your mouth drops open to backpedal but he continues to tease, “How ‘bout a drive then? That safe enough for you, ma’am?”

Though truthfully you absolutely trusted him as a pilot, the image of him in his baby-blue Bronco speeding down PCH, the Hawaiian shirt he’d undoubtedly wear blowing in the breeze, was too appealing. You tilt your chin up and answer in a voice you hope sounds seductive, “I think that’d be acceptable, Lieutenant.”

What neither of you were expecting was his body’s reaction to your use of his title. His eyebrows shoot upward in surprise, his back stiffens. He attempts to subtly shift his hips in an attempt to adjust himself, but he knows you saw. That godforsaken, smug smile, crowned by that retro mustache, returns as he murmurs, “Looks like you better save that for later, darlin’.” He then stands and you’re nearly touching his chest. He slowly steps around you and asks, “Ginger, be here tomorrow for me?”

____________________________________________________

Since Rooster never specified a time, you show up at the Hard Deck the next day at opening. It’s mid-day and the sun is baking down. You’d take the dry Californian heat over the humidity of the South you grew up in any day. There was a breeze from the ocean which pushed at the bottom of your blue sundress. Sitting down at one of the outside tables, you pull a book from your bag. And if he decided not to come, this wasn’t far from how you’d spend a day off, anyway.

An hour later, the sun had conquered the shade in which you’d been sitting, so you head inside. Penny is at the bar with Maverick. They smile at you and Penny asks, “So where you guys headed today?”

“I actually have no idea. I don’t even know if he’ll be here for sure.”

“Oh, he’s comin’.” Maverick laughs, smiling fondly.

Smiling in response, you ask, “What makes you so sure, sir?”

The older man takes a sip of his whiskey and says, “You haven’t noticed? Kid doesn’t take his eyes off you. Most of those piano performances are to get your attention.” He laughs again, shaking his head. “He got that from his daddy.” There’s tenderness in his voice, but you’re unsure why.

Penny looks at you with a knowing smile on her face - you’d confessed your own crush to her a week ago. It had been a literal confession; she’d caught you paying for his drink without his knowledge. She opens her mouth to say something teasing, but the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside fills the quiet seaside air. Worrying about the teasing the two of you would get if he came inside right now, you smile a goodbye at the couple and rush out the door.

Closing his Bronco door is exactly what you’d pictured the day before: Bradley Bradshaw in a tan Hawaiian shirt and board shorts that show off his long, muscled legs. You’re standing there, hands clasped out of anxiety, as he sees you. His eyes meet yours, but they shamelessly trail down your chest and over your dress. He leans sideways against his truck.

“Blue’s my favorite color, y’know,” he grins.

Suddenly you realize you match his truck, and you laugh, “I hope you don’t think I chose the color of my outfit to impress you.” You step a little closer.

“The color is not what’s impressing me,” he blurts, then tries to gloss over it: “You’re ready to go?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

It wasn’t an attempt to fluster him, that word was part of your daily vocabulary, but again his cheeks blush and his right hand moves to his waistband, adjusting his bottoms. He clears his throat. You’re confused at his reaction; doesn’t he call you “ma’am” just about every day? He gives you a look you don’t quite get, and he walks around to the passenger door.

Opening the door for you with his right, he holds out his left forearm for you to grab while you climb up into the car. “Ma’am,” he instructs, proving you were right to be confused.

Deciding that touching him right now would be in detriment to your own self-control, you grab the handle and hop up in the seat before he can assist.

He shakes his head and teases, “Independent, huh?”

“Maybe,” you retort. The door shuts and you watch him as he goes around the hood to his own door. He’s so mesmerizing even just walking. His shoulders roll; he struts. It’s the kind of quiet confidence that strikes you in your core; you’re a little embarrassed as your body responds to something so small. He hasn’t even touched me, you chastise yourself, stop it.

He doesn’t need to jump into the car, his long legs equipped for the job. He turns to you, taking in the sight of you in his passenger seat finally. His mouth quirks into that breathtakingly smug half-smile and you flush with heat. He pops on his dad’s Ray Bans and says, “Alright, baby, let’s go.”

____________________________________________________

“So, where are we going?” You query. The windows are partially down as Rooster rushes along the Pacific Coast Highway. His speed surprises you; you’re not worried about your safety, but you were thinking it would be a lazy drive and it’s clear he’s distracted.

“There’s a hidden spit of beach less than an hour from town - rock piles on both sides. Not a lot of people know about it, and it’s one of my favorite places to think, to breathe.” He answers, glancing at your reaction to the openness of that statement.

Since he seems willing, you ask him, “What do you go there to think about?” Your head tilts a little, a lock of your long, brown curls rolling into your face. He notices, debating whether or not that kind of touch is too soon. You move the hair away before he decides, so he answers your question instead, his eyes on the road.

“Whatever is happening,” he chuckles. “There’s always something.” Then he adds, “We’re nearly there.”

Okay, so maybe not that open. You wait for a moment to see if he’ll say more, but he doesn’t.

You tease, “Ah, well, that’s fascinating. You’re taking me out here to think with you? It’s hard to use that brain without a little help, huh?”

His head tilts back as he laughs. “Corny. C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“It made you laugh. That was its job.”

He glances over at you again, this time with a mischievous look.

“My brain works just fine, thanks. Can’t say much for yours,” he jokes. “Coming out here with a man you barely know? Not very smart, darlin’.”

You’re torn for a second - obviously, you trust this man with your life, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting in his truck, but you can’t help but briefly question: was he making fun of your naivety? Your experience with Jekyll? It doesn’t occur to you that he doesn’t know the details enough to poke fun at you. Your brow furrows for a second, unsure how to process the joke. Your silence makes him uncomfortable. The Bronco slows as he turns onto a sandy side road then stops a few hundred yards from the main road.

His seat squeaks as he turns toward you; Rooster backpedals, “Hey, you can trust me,” his eyes bore into yours, begging. “Shitty joke.”

His eyes are alight with concern, his eyebrows knit together. Rooster mentally berated himself. He’d been incredibly turned on by your outfit, your teasing - more than he expected to be. The entire drive he had spent vacillating between kissing you or waiting, not wanting to screw this up. He’d meant to come across as flirty, but he’d stuck his foot in his mouth instead.

“Oh. No, you’re fine,” you realize the simple miscommunication. “I just misconstrued that.”

“No, I’m sorry. Really shitty joke. That won’t happen again.” He promises, knowing he’ll keep it. He reaches for your hand, truly apologetic. Your core sparks up as his calloused hand takes yours. You watch, stunned by the feeling of him twining and untwining your fingers with his own. Still trying to read your expressions, he waits.

You look up and the light in your core ignites into a fireball as you recognize the look in his eyes. Instead of speaking your forgiveness aloud, you place your free hand on his cheek, your thumb caressing his scars. His eyes close blissfully; his mustache tickling your palm as he tilts his head into your hand. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen a man.

You both let the moment deepen, and his eyes open slowly, pure desire written in them. He leans in further, and you’re frozen in your seat, hand still holding his cheek. His free hand smooths across your cheek and into your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, and your lips part to breathe him in. Your other hand fulfills a wish you’ve had for weeks: you touch the side of his neck, and it’s a dangerous move. His pulse is racing, skin heated like the sand outside. Your thumb brushes over his Adam’s apple and he swallows.

Involuntarily, you moan, “Oh,” and he’s done.

He nearly crushes his pouting lips to yours, parting your lips further, and you let his wide tongue dip into your mouth. It feels so good to let him in; you want nothing more than the feeling of him everywhere. The warmth sparks down into your thighs, your stomach. The hand in your hair pulls you in further, deeper. His kiss becomes desperate. Your left hand cups his jaw while the other drops weakly into your lap. When your lips gap in between kisses, a low sound escapes him, sending another wave of electricity through you. His left hand moves to your throat, feeling the soft skin, and he drinks in the soft moan you make.

He breaks the kiss and looks down with lidded-eyes, about to ask you if you’re okay, when you smile up at him. His eyes glance down at your lips again and you can’t take it anymore: you push out of your seat and climb onto him.

Rooster smiles so widely, you almost cry. You kiss him again, deeper, still deeper, as he continues to make those noises that only he could. His mustache tickles and burns in a way you’d never thought you'd love so much. Your thighs enjoy the feeling of his hands, his thick arms holding you up. God, you’re glad you wore a dress. He’s holding you off of his lap, though, he won’t let you feel him, yet. Your hands work to slip his unbuttoned shirt off, but he’d have to drop his hold to do so. The noises you make probably sound desperate but you don’t care. His biceps flex as he breaks the kiss again, this time to see your face as he lowers you onto his tented shorts.

The sound that leaves your lips is a cry of relief at the friction, unstoppable. His dick is already hard as steel, and though the shorts prevent any further study, you cry out at the feeling against your swollen self. Without any thought, you grind your hips against him slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, lips against your cheek. His mustache sends a tingling sensation across your face and neck. Enjoying the feeling of your body as his fingers stroke your exposed thighs, he tilts his head back, which gives you access to his neck. You can’t stop yourself from dropping to lick and kiss him there, biting gently. He goes nearly weak beneath you. You remember your task of removing his shirt, and you all-but rip it off him. His white undershirt, though covering his chest, leaves none of the muscles in his arms to the imagination. You trail your fingers down his shoulder and bicep, momentarily stunned by them.

He laughs, “You alright, sweetheart?”

“You’re kinda hotter than me,” you let slip.

His face falls; he looks hurt. “Are you being serious?” Unsure how to answer that, and upset you might’ve ruined the moment, you grimace. “Holy shit,” he argues, “This isn’t the most intellectual thing I could say because most of the blood is not in my brain right now, but I’m in the Hard Deck almost every day. I love that place, but I don’t need to see it everyday. You, however, I do. I’ve had to - you know - take care of myself more than once after leaving your bar,” he admits. “And shit, that sounds creepy, but I promise, I-”

You cut him off with a kiss, apologetic that you let that intrusive thought out. Then your hand moves to his shorts. Under your lips, a hitched moan echoes as you unfasten them and slip your hand inside. Your lips part and you look up into his eyes as you feel the sheer size of him. Slowly, your hand strokes along him. His eyes close in pleasure and he mutters, “Fuck.” That word sends your body into a frenzy: you need him.

“Please,” you whimper. His grip on your hips tightens. Then, remembering, you beg, “Please, Lieutenant.”

His eyes shoot open, utterly black in his lust. His hips swell upward in response.

Again you push him, “Please, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” and you’re rewarded by the feeling of his dick twitching, straining in your hand still inside his shorts.

He takes you into his arms again, lifting you off his lap. You cry out in protest, but he throws open his door. With your legs wrapped around him, and his arms holding your ass, he gets out and walks to the back of his truck. He sets you carefully on the tailgate, stepping back, and you laugh as you realize the truck bed is filled with blankets.

“This wasn’t exactly my plan, I promise.” His boyish grin devastates your heart.

“You had a plan?” You ask playfully. You reach for his hand and pull him back to you, unable to stop touching him. His arm snakes around your back and he lays you down slowly, his hot mouth on yours.

Though you can’t see it, somewhere nearby is the shoreline, you hear the crash of the waves and the call of seagulls. The sun beats down, but the breeze from the ocean chases away most of the heat. You’re warmed now by the golden body of the man above you. Rooster’s thigh splits your legs open, his knee edging your legs even further apart. You giggle, and he grins once more. You pull his white tank top over his head, and your heart stops for a moment as the planes of his hard chest, his abdominal muscles are revealed to you. You had no idea he was this ripped.

He laughs at your reaction and whispers, “Your turn, baby.” His hand skates underneath your dress, up your thigh, savoring your expressions at the feeling. Then he reaches your hip, and his eyes go wide as his hand finds no cloth to remove.

“I had a plan,” you tease. As you speak, your hands push his waistband down. “One I’ve been thinking of every single day since you walked into the bar. I wanted you so badly, Lieutenant.”

His shorts now below his ass, you start to take him into your hands again but he thrusts against you. His biceps frame your head as he ruts along you, and the cry you make dies with the breeze. His moaning mouth goes to your neck, leaving marks from both lips and teeth. He’s almost feral with want. He sloppily kisses the hollow of your throat, then down across to the neckline of your dress.

“Need this gone,” he orders.

“Yes, sir,” you start to obey, but before you can even touch the material, his arms flex as he tears your thin dress in two.

You gasp in pleasure as his tongue makes its way through the valley between your breasts, his mustache sweeping. The two of you are totally bare to each other, and you’d have it no other way. He thrusts against you again, leaving you gasping. His tongue enters your mouth with an aggressiveness you can’t help but wilt beneath. The feeling is sensational combined with the contact of his skin on your own; like you’re opening every part of yourself to him. But you know that’s not fully true yet, so you hook your calves around his thighs. Your arms cling around his neck, and you hear yourself moan, “Bradley, please.”

“I’ll give it to you, sweetheart.” He tilts his head back to look into your eyes. “I need you to look at me, okay?” You see the admiration and the lust filling them as you feel him push into you. The moans from both of you mingle in the salty air. The feeling of him inside you is nearly unbearable.

“Oh, my god,” you cry out. He fills you so well. You’re gasping again, “You’re-”

He silences you with another deep kiss. His thrusts come hard, but slowly at first. But he’s starving and the sound of his hips slapping your thighs turns both of you on even more. He’s hitting you in a place you weren’t sure existed, building the tension in your body with every push. He leans into your ear, keeping his rhythm, and murmurs, “You drive me crazy. Always. Those low-cut tank tops, your tight shorts,” he sounds like he’s losing control. “You know what you’re doing.” He licks your throat and continues, “You’re mine, darlin’. You’re done for now.”

His words undo the knot in your core, and your body shudders around him. He smiles and says, “That’s my girl.” But he doesn’t lessen his pace. He thrusts faster, needing to claim you fully.

Your body still shaking, you gather the presence of mind to breathe in his ear, “I want to be yours.”

And he comes apart, his hips stutter, the powerful feeling of release shocking through him. He buries one final push as he lets go, and he leans his head on your shoulder, panting.

___________________________________________________

The deepening blue, Southern California sky expands above you. Twilight is approaching and the late hour casts its honeyed light. The breeze whistles softly as Bradley twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers. You lay next to him, head on a pillow, your right arm across his bare body. Your fingers trail the lines of his muscular chest until he disappears under the blanket he’d brought. You briefly wonder what you'll wear home now that your dress is mangled; you smile as you decide to steal his Hawaiian shirt.

“I really did not intend for that to happen. I wanted to do it right with you.” He eventually says, his eyes following a cloud.

“Oh.” You wonder if he’s regretting having moved so quickly. “I’m sorry.”

He shifts to look at you. “No, I just wanted you to know I wasn’t- I didn’t want to just-” He raises his hands in suggestion and makes a face like you know what I mean. He explains, “I mean that I wanted this to be real. A real date. Not a one-time-thing.” He pauses, searching your face, “If you feel the same.”

Reassured, you tease him, wanting him to say it outright, “If I feel the same as what, sir?” You look up at him innocently.

He huffs a laugh, now knowing your game but playing along anyway. His voice starts dangerously low, intentionally sexy, “The same as how you make me feel, honey. Like the world doesn’t matter as long as you’re nearby.” His voice changes slightly into a confessional, “I feel home when I see you, and yeah, maybe that’s crazy -” He trails off, his eyes dance between yours, trying to read you, wondering if he said too much too soon.

“I would say that’s crazy - if it were anyone else. But with you…” You reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheeks, his chin. You pull him down for a kiss, pure sweetness in it, willing him to feel your emotions. “With you, Lieutenant Bradshaw, I’ll never have enough of you.”

“Holy shit, you’re it for me.” He beams, pulling you on top of him.

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lewmagoo · 2 years ago

Text

i will wait right here | b. bradshaw

description: in which four pilots find themselves in a hospital waiting room (requested)

warnings: angst, brief allusion to sex (no smut), illness (there’s a brief scene with vomiting lol), mentions of death, hurt/comfort

pairing/characters: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x nondescript f!reader, natasha “phoenix” trace, robert “bob” floyd, jake “hangman” seresin

notes: this is pretty self indulgent. also i might be projecting a bit here. y’know, with the constant need to be independent and put others needs before my own, even if it kills me. just eldest daughter things 🤪

Rooster had always said she was far too determined to be independent.

It came from her deep, incessant need to prove to others, and herself, that she could take care of herself, and didn’t need anyone to fuss over her.

“I’m fine,” she’d insist, “you don’t have to worry about me.”

Except, Bradley did worry about her. All the time, in fact. The fact that he was a mother hen was a running joke in their group of friends. But he was especially a mother hen toward her. When she assured everyone that she was okay, he could see right through it. He knew her well enough to know when she was not okay. And he was pretty good about helping her when she needed it.

But in turn, she was good at evading his help. She didn’t want to be a burden. Although Bradley insisted that she wasn’t, there was part of her that always doubted that. She’d spent her entire life proving she didn’t need anyone to lean on.

But one day, that stubborn determination of hers would cost her.

It had all started with a migraine.

She woke up to the splitting headache, and groaned in protest at the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. Bradley was beside her, one brawny arm slung over her waist. He felt her tense, and he shifted, lifting his head from the pillows.

If she hadn’t been in so much pain she would have marveled in adoration at his sleep rumpled hair and the imprint of the sheets creased on his cheek.

“Mm, mornin’, baby. You alright?”

“Fine,” she mumbled. “Just have a headache.”

Bradley buried his face against her shoulder, pressing a kiss there. His mustache prickled at her skin. “‘s probably about time to get up, hm?”

“Probably.” She closed her eyes, trying to hide from the light.

Finally, the man beside her sat upright, stretching out his torso, followed by a few pops of readjusting joints. “I’ll get the coffee going. Maybe it’ll help your headache.” He left another kiss, this time to her temple, before he slipped away, leaving her in the silence of her bedroom.

Again, if her head wasn’t threatening to explode on her, she might have admired the view of his peachy ass as he bent to tug on his boxers. Instead, her eyes remained half closed, and all she saw was his retreating shadow as he made his way out to the kitchen.

With a deep sigh, she attempted to sit up, but as she did so, an unbearable rush of pain flooded her head. She let out a hiss, reaching up to gently hold her head in her hands, lessening the throb as she slowly sat up the rest of the way.

“Fuck, I don’t remember drinking that much last night.” In fact, she’d hardly been drunk at all. She and Rooster had shared a beer the night before, and had promptly after fallen into the sheets together. Her head certainly hadn’t been hurting then. All she remembered was all-encompassing pleasure.

So sometime between their evening escapades and now, a migraine had sunk its sharp claws into her skull, and wouldn’t let go.

She fumbled to open her nightstand drawer, retrieving a bottle of headache medication she kept there. Using the glass of water that was a permanent fixture on the nightstand, she swigged the pills back and hoped for the best.

After taking a moment to physically prepare herself to get up for the day, her feet hit the floor. Mechanically, she pulled on the nearest article of clothing, which happened to be Bradley’s well-worn Navy t-shirt.

Then she made her way out to the kitchen. The light was brighter in there, and she squinted in discomfort. As she took a seat at the table, a mug full of fresh coffee was placed in front of her. She didn’t have to question how it was made. Bradley knew exactly how she liked it.

“I’ll be pretty busy these next few days,” he mused as she took a sip of the coffee. “Got those intense training exercises I told you about. I probably won’t be able to come home as often, at least not until the weekend.”

“Hope it goes well,” she managed, letting her eyes fall shut.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His husky voice brought her back to the present, and when she opened her eyes, she found his warm ones staring back at her, flooded with concern.

Despite herself, she gave him a small smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“I always do,” came his response. He kissed the top of her head.

He soon excused himself to get ready for the day, while she sat at the table and gently massaged her temples. She was thankful she didn’t have Bradley’s job, which required him to be at work bright and early. Instead, she worked at the Hard Deck, and her shift didn’t start until later that afternoon. She hoped her headache would settle down by that point.

By the time she rose from the table to deposit her empty coffee cup into the sink, Bradley was already dressed and ready to head out the door. He kissed her cheek as he walked by, stopping at the entryway to lace up his boots.

“Bye, baby. I’ll call you later if I have time. Love, love.”

Then he was gone before she could register what had taken place. She sighed into the quietness of her home. Normally, she would’ve been a more active participant in bidding him farewell. Especially if she wasn’t going to see him for a few days. But she simply didn’t have the wherewithal to do so.

Instead of fretting over her less than enthusiastic goodbye, she headed right back to bed, hoping she would wake up and find her headache gone.

She did wake up many hours later. However, her headache was still raging behind her eyes, like churning storm clouds. Not to mention, the bedroom was considerably darker than it had been when she went to sleep.

“Oh, shit,” she cursed. She sat up quickly, regretting it immediately when her head began to pound and spots appeared in front of her eyes. She took a moment to pull herself together before she reached for her phone. To her horror, she found that it was 2100 hours. She’d slept until 9 pm. That meant that she was four hours late to her shift at the Hard Deck.

Her phone screen displayed a few missed calls from Penny, and a few from another bartender, Samantha. She let out a frustrated moan, lowering her head to her hands. She couldn’t believe that she’d managed to sleep late enough to miss a whole shift of work.

She felt awful, and she was quick to type an apology to Penny.

Hey Pen. I am sooooo sorry I stood you up like that. I’m not feeling well and I laid down for a bit, but ended up sleeping way too late. I woke up just a few minutes ago. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

She hit send and hoped for the best. Penny was understanding, so she wasn’t worried about the possibility of losing her job. But she still felt terrible about it, and vowed to make things right.

However, the excruciating pain still piercing through her skull soon took precedence over her guilt, and she whimpered, lowering herself back down against the bed.

She’d had headaches and migraines before, but they were few and far between, and none of them had ever been as bad as this. It was a constant, thrumming ache that distracted her from all coherent thought.

She was surprised when tears sprang to her eyes. It pushed her to reach back into her nightstand and take another dose of pills. She hoped and prayed that this time, they would work, and she’d be able to go about her normal, day to day life soon.

As she curled back under the covers and placed a pillow over her head, she found herself wishing that Bradley was there to hold her and possibly help soothe the pain. She imagined his big, warm hands gently cradling her head, keeping the pounding at bay.

She was tempted to call him, but she wasn’t sure if he’d answer. When he was in training mode, he had a tendency to be pretty reclusive. Instead of coming back to her apartment, he’d stay at his place on base, because it was closer, and gave him the opportunity to come straight home and collapse into bed at night right away.

But tonight was one of those nights where she longed for him. He always knew what to do to make her feel better. Now she was all alone and in utter misery. But, she’d always pushed through everything life threw at her, and this was no different. She’d simply have to bite the bullet and get through it. She had never needed anyone before. She didn’t figure she needed them now. But oh, how wrong she was.

She drifted back to sleep that night, the pain lulling her into a fitful slumber. When she woke the next morning, the room was still too bright for her sensitive eyes, and her head seemed to ache even more so, if at all possible.

It took her quite a few moments to work up the nerve to rise from the bed. Yet again, she held her head in her hands, and had to pause for a moment as the room began to spin around her. It should have been her first clue that something was horribly wrong, but she was stubborn, and was sure that this would pass soon.

Another dose of Excedrin was downed, and she forced herself out of bed. However, on her way down the hallway, she grew dizzy, and the unsteadying pain sent her careening into the bathroom, crashing to her knees just in time to vomit into the toilet.

She hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, she realized, so there was hardly anything to expel. Finally, with her whole body trembling, she calmed down. She managed to reach a hand up to the sink to hoist herself from the floor, and when she looked in the mirror, she realized just how sickly she appeared.

There was no way she’d be able to go to work like this. So, she regretfully called Penny.

The first words out of the woman’s mouth were, “are you okay?”

“Hi. Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’m so sorry about last night. When I woke up I couldn’t believe I’d slept that late.”

“I understand, it happens. Will you be able to work tonight?”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

“Well if you aren’t feeling well tomorrow, don’t feel like you need to come in. You should rest up,” Penny warned.

“It’s Friday. I don’t want to leave you high and dry on such a busy night.”

“You won’t be a help to me if you’re sick, hon. So please, get some rest and only come in if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Okay, okay. I will. Thanks Penny.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself.”

When the call ended, she let out a weary sigh, leaning her weight on the sink. That two minute phone call had zapped her of any energy she might’ve had left. Her head throbbed in protest, and she let out a whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down to find that it was a text from Bradley.

Sorry I haven’t been able to call you. Might be able to talk tonight, if you want. Love, love.

She didn’t have the energy to respond. Instead, she dragged herself back out into the hall and toward the kitchen. She could only muster the strength to unpeel a banana and eat it. Anything else proved to be too difficult of a task.

The rest of the day carried on that way. She was lethargic and miserable. Medication did nothing to soothe her poor, aching skull. She was left to sprawl out on the couch and keep her head nestled against a throw pillow.

She dozed off throughout the day. Bradley texted her again later that afternoon. She didn’t hear the phone vibrate. Sometime in the late evening, she became aware of the fact that her body was warm all over. Somehow, she managed to stumble to the bathroom and rifle through the medicine cabinet over the sink for a thermometer.

When she pulled the device out of her mouth, it read 102°F. “Fuck,” she sighed. Concern grew in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to make of a crushing headache paired with a fever. She had no other familiar symptoms like a congestion or a sore throat. This was entirely foreign to her. In hindsight, she would realize that not going to the hospital right away was the most foolish mistake she could ever make.

Lucky for her, a certain knight in shining armor of sorts would be coming to her rescue.

Before turning in for the night, she popped a few ibuprofen to bring the fever down, and headed straight to bed again. She left her phone on the living room coffee table, where it remained the rest of the night, going unanswered when Bradley tried to call her.

When she didn’t answer, he grew concerned. It wasn’t like her to forego a nighttime phone call from him. That, paired with the unanswered texts he’d sent her earlier, gave way to an odd sort of nagging in the back of his brain, like something was wrong.

The next morning, just before heading out for the last day of training before the weekend, he tried calling her again. It went straight to voicemail without even ringing. He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it, brow furrowed in obvious worry.

“Everything okay?” It was Phoenix’s voice. She was good at reading Rooster’s tells. He looked tense with worry, which compelled her to ask what was going on.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “My girl isn’t answering my calls. She normally always answers.”

Phoenix offered a reassuring smile. “Maybe she’s still asleep?” She suggested.

“Maybe, but she didn’t answer last night either. Phe, I’ve just got this weird feeling that something’s wrong.”

Her face softened, and she stepped closer. “Maybe you can—” but before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by an abrupt, “Admiral on deck!” Prompting everyone to stand at attention, conversations forgotten.

Back at home, a very delirious, fever-ridden girl was just stumbling out of bed. When her feet touched the floor, it felt like her limbs were made of lead. She moaned in discomfort, and barely made it upright before she had to grip the bed post and steady herself.

She was able to make it to the bathroom, but when she got there, her sickness-addled brain forgot why she’d even stepped into the room in the first place. But the tile was cool under her feet, and she decided it would be a good place to cool down. So, she lowered herself to the floor and sprawled across the cold tile. That’s where she would remain the rest of the day, fading in and out of consciousness.

Bradley tried to remain stoic as he went about his job, but he was teeming with anxiety. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. And because of this, he wasn’t on his A-game during training. It prompted a few smartalec comments from Hangman, who was surprised when Rooster didn’t reciprocate any sharp verbal jabs.

By the time evening rolled around, even he was slightly worried, because it wasn’t like Bradley to be so distant. As they all walked out together that evening, Hangman fell into step beside Phoenix.

“What’s with Bradshaw today?” He asked, voice low.

“Something’s wrong with Bradshaw?” An eavesdropping Coyote piped up from just behind the pair.

“Shh! Not too loud,” Hangman insisted, waving his hand in a be quiet motion.

Natasha glanced at him through her peripheral before quickly explaining why Bradley was acting so off.

“Shit, really?” Then he looked up, catching sight of the other pilot up ahead before he jogged over to him. “Everything alright, Bradshaw?”

He raised a brow. “Why do you ask?”

“Phoenix said something might be going on with your girl. Do you want me to go with you to check on her?” He was genuinely offering. Bradley’s comrades had all come to love his sweet girlfriend, so much so that they were very protective of her, and would do all they could to prevent any harm from coming to her.

Bradley hesitated. “I’m gonna head over to the Hard Deck first. Find out if Penny’s seen her.”

And that’s how Penny Benjamin came face to face with a group of very concerned pilots, huddling around her bar with expectant looks on their faces.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

Bradley stepped forward, and realization dawned across Penny’s features when he asked if she’d seen his girlfriend. “She’s been sick the last few days. I tried calling her today and there was no answer. You should probably go—” but before she could finish her sentence, the sandy haired aviator was already turning on his heel and rushing out of the bar.

“Roos! We’re coming with you!” Phoenix called, hot on his heels.

“You don’t need to—” but when he turned around to protest, he found his friends staring back at him. Bob, Phoenix, and Hangman had decided that out of the whole group, they were going to be his wingmen, so to speak, as he went to find out what was going on. He realized that telling them no was a lost cause, so he sighed, relenting.

They all squeezed into Bradley’s Bronco, and soon, a gaggle of pilots was leaving base to go check on their comrade’s girlfriend. Maybe they were all overreacting, but they were concerned, and just wanted to help out.

“When was the last time you talked to her?” Bob spoke up from the backseat, question directed at Bradley.

“Uh…the day I left for training. I usually don’t have time to call her the first day or two so we didn’t talk for a couple days.”

“Penny said she called in sick, right? I’ve never known that girl to miss a day of work, like, ever,” Hangman, who was sitting shotgun, mused.

“Was there anything out of the ordinary when you left?” It was Natasha’s turn to ask a question.

“I don’t think so. We woke up, and then…” He trailed off for a moment as he realized one very important detail. “Oh, shit. She said she had a headache. I noticed she was acting kind of off but she insisted she was fine.” He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. “Fuck, what if it was something life threatening?”

Phoenix’s eyes widened. “Hey, let’s not jump

to conclusions yet. We’ll see what’s wrong when we get there.”

They arrived in no time, thanks to Bradley going over the speed limit. As soon as they reached the apartment complex, they were all rushing inside. Her apartment was situated on the sixth floor. The elevator ride up was the longest few minutes of the four aviators lives, it felt like.

When the doors slid open, Bradley was the first one out, already reaching into his pocket to retrieve the apartment key. He realized his hands were shaking as he tried to insert the metal into the lock. His chest was tight with anxiety, an awful sense of dread weighing heavily on his shoulders.

He imagined the worst, picturing the love of his life dead, helpless and alone. It sent a jolt of panic through him, and it was as if he couldn’t get the door open fast enough. He prayed to whoever was listening that he hadn’t lost the most important thing in his life.

Once he got the door open, the four of them stumbled through. The apartment was dark, and it sent alarm bells off in Bradley’s mind. He called out her name, but his voice sounded foreign to his own ears.

The other three set about searching the apartment, calling her name. Bradley’s feet were heavy as he followed after them. Jake stepped into the bedroom and flipped on the light. They were all met with the sight of an empty bed.

Bradley knew there was only one other place to look. Fear bloomed to life in his chest, and his hands trembled as he turned, stepping down the hallway and pausing outside the closed bathroom door. He grabbed the knob, only to find that the door was stuck. The creaky old door had a tendency to latch itself at the worst times. It was something Bradley had been meaning to fix, but had never gotten around to it.

Before bursting into the bathroom like a madman and risking embarrassing her, he knocked first. “Baby? Are you in there?” He called. He was met with silence.

“Is it locked?” Phoenix asked.

“It’s stuck. Sometimes we gotta use force.” Then, he looked back, motioning for the trio to step aside as he stepped backwards to gain some momentum.

He threw his weight against the door. It groaned, almost as if in protest. Again, a broad shoulder was slammed into the wood, and this time, a splintering sound could be heard. One more display of force, and it flew open, fast enough that it slammed against the bathroom wall inside.

He reached for the light switch, and when he flipped it on, he was met with a sight that sent his blood running cold. “Oh my god.”

He rushed into the bathroom, falling to his knees beside the prone form of his girlfriend. He was almost hesitant to touch her, for fear of finding her skin cold as ice.

In fact, Bradley froze. He knew he needed to be springing into action, needed to check her pulse, make sure she was alive. But his hands felt heavy as iron, and he couldn’t move.

The one who finally acted was Bob. He was quick to kneel beside Rooster, reaching out to gently turn the girl and press his fingers to her pulse point. His eyes widened when he realized how warm she was.

“She’s alive,” he assured the man beside him, “but she’s burning up. We need to get her to the hospital right away.”

The word hospital snapped him to attention. He met Bob’s worried gaze, and nodded. “We can take her there ourselves, it’ll be faster.” Bradley leaned over her body, carefully lifting her into his arms. He almost shied away at just how warm her body was. She was consumed with fever.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered as he rose to his feet. Then he looked up to find the grim faces of Jake and Natasha. All Bradley had to do was nod and they were all heading back out of the apartment.

In no time, they were back outside. “I’ll drive,” Jake offered. “Keys, Bradshaw.” He held his hand out.

“Not a chance,” Phoenix cut in, stepping forward to reach into Rooster’s left pocket, where she’d seen him shove the keys into earlier.

Under normal circumstances, Hangman would’ve argued, but not now. It didn’t matter who drove, as long as they got to the hospital. He simply rolled his eyes and instead opted to open the back door so Rooster could climb inside.

The moment everyone was settled, Phoenix was heading off toward the hospital. The interior was somber and quiet, each pilot sick with worry over the girl Rooster held in his arms.

He cradled her close, reaching up a hand to brush her hair out of her face. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?” He whispered. He hoped she could. “Just hang on, alright? We’re gonna get you some help.” And then, more quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” It would be something he’d beat himself up over for a long time.

“You couldn’t have known,” Bob softly spoke up from beside him.

“I knew something was wrong when she didn’t respond to my texts or calls. I should’ve taken that as a sign to go check on her.”

The bespectacled lieutenant shook his head, and there was nothing but kindness in his face. “You can’t play the blame game, Rooster. It’ll drive you mad.”

He was right, after all. But that didn’t stop Bradley from silently beating himself over the fact that he hadn’t been there when the love of his life needed him most. He imagined her all alone, unable to call for help, and it gutted him. I should’ve been there. I should’ve found a way.

When the Bronco finally came to a stop outside the emergency room, all of them got out. The poor receptionist running the desk looked up to find four frantic pilots staring back at her. One of them held a girl in his arms and he looked about ready to fall to his knees.

“P-please, she needs help,” he croaked.

A flurry of activity took place around the group. Someone reached out to take his entire world from his arms. He almost didn’t want to let her go, and subconsciously, his grip tightened on her. But he was surprised when Jake’s hand landed against his chest, his voice in Bradley’s ear, saying, “let ‘em take her. They’ll take good care of her.” And he finally let her go.

As she was wheeled away, the group watched helplessly. It might’ve looked humorous to a random passerby. Four of the Navy’s best aviators, rendered to nothing more than a concerned, anxiety ridden mess.

They were told to retire to the waiting room, and that a doctor would be out eventually to inform them of what was going on.

That’s where they found themselves. Hangman was sitting on the window sill, staring out into the dark parking lot. Rooster was pacing back and forth, enough to wear a hole in the linoleum. Phoenix sat sideways in one of the chairs, her legs slung over the uncomfortable wooden arm. Bob sat on the other side of her, face sullen as he stared down at his feet.

Bradley felt like he was going insane from not knowing. He kept raking his fingers through his hair, hard enough that it hurt, but he didn’t care. His chest was tight with fear. He just wanted answers.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her. The thought was unimaginable. Had he really come this far, and finally let someone in after years of living as a lone wolf, only to lose her in the end? The thought alone almost drove him to his knees.

Bob, ever the empath, looked up to find Bradley distraught, and his heart ached. He stood, moving to step in front of the other man. Bradley looked back at him, and finally, he broke. He leaned forward, and Bob pulled him into a hug, allowing him to cry silently against his shoulder.

Then, he was joined by Natasha, who wrapped her arms around both men. From the window sill, Jake gazed at the teary-eyed trio, and he let out a dramatic sigh as he rose to his feet and joined in on the group hug in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

“Group hugging you three idiots is not how I imagined spending my Friday night, yet here we are,” he piped up, totally ruining the emotional moment, but pulling a laugh from each of them. Even Bradley, who smiled despite himself.

“Leave it to you to ruin a good moment, Bagman,” Natasha teased, shoving at his chest.

After playfully pushing her hand away, the blonde looked at Bradley, his face now sober. “For what it’s worth, I hope she pulls through.”

The other man gave him a nod. “Thanks, Seresin.”

They all parted, and this time, Rooster was able to take a seat, settling beside Bob. He’d always been friendly with the guy, but now, in the midst of the turmoil he was experiencing, Bob was a quiet, calming force, and it was helping Bradley through this moment more than he could say.

Again, the waiting room drifted into somber silence as they all nervously awaited information. Minutes passed by, and soon, minutes bled into an hour and a half.

Rooster finally stood up, legs sore from sitting for so long. “Goddammit, what’s taking so long?” He huffed, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He was heavily considering storming up to the front desk to demand answers, but Natasha stopped him, gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, let me,” she quietly offered.

He nodded, and she slipped away, making her way up to the desk to inquire about his girl’s status. The receptionist had no definitive answers, and a forlorn Phoenix made her way back to the boys, shaking her head. They all groaned in frustration.

“How about I get us all something from the vending machine?” She offered. That seemed to catch their attention, and a few minutes later, she was returning to the waiting room with an armful of snacks and bottled drinks. Everyone took what they wanted and went back to moping about, this time with food in hand.

Finally, a doctor walked into the waiting room. She didn’t have to look very far. There was a group of very despondent pilots sitting in the middle of the room. One of them, a blonde one, perked up at the sight of the doctor, and he reached out, tapping another one, a mustached young man, on the shoulder.

Mustache popped out of his seat, whirling around. His eyes were wide, face awash with fear as the doctor approached. The others stood up as well, waiting expectantly, and forming a bit of a protective group around him.

“Which one of you is Bradley Bradshaw?”

Mustache weakly raised a hand. “I am.” His voice nearly failed him.

The doctor stepped forward. “You did the right thing, bringing her in when you did. A few hours longer and she very well could have passed away.”

All four pilots breathed a sigh of relief at the realization that she was alive. “What’s wrong with her?” Bradley asked, dark eyes swirling with concern.

“We ran some tests and it appears that she has a rare type of bacterial infection. It caused the extremely high fever. It doesn’t pass from person to person, so none of you are at risk of contagion, if you were worried about that. We’ve been able to get her fever down partially, and we started her on antibiotics. We’ll be keeping her for a few days to monitor her symptoms and make sure she doesn’t get worse.”

“Is she awake?”

“No sir, not yet. What she needs is a good night of rest. I’d imagine she’ll be more herself tomorrow, once the antibiotics start doing their job. She’s being sent up to a room as we speak.”

“Can we see her?” The blonde one asked.

The doctor eyed the group warily. They were all chomping at the bit to see the sick girl, and frankly, it was adorable. However, visiting hours were long past over. Even so, she was torn. She let out a sigh, staring back at their hopeful faces. “Look, visiting hours are over. I can’t let all of you go up there. But I will make an exception for Mr. Bradshaw here, since she’s his partner. The rest of you will have to head home and come back at 0800 hours.”

The disappointment was visible on all their faces, but they were respectful, and didn’t put up an argument. Once the doctor finished up her required spiel and dismissed herself, the group of friends turned to Rooster. Another group hug was had, and they all shared in the relief that everything was going to be okay.

“Text us as soon as she wakes up,” Natasha instructed as she handed Bradley his car keys back. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning with breakfast.”

He looked at each of his comrades, hardly able to express his thanks for their support. “Thanks for waiting with me, guys. Made me feel less alone.”

“We’ll always be there for you, whenever you need us,” Bob spoke up with a smile.

Rooster lurched forward and pulled him into another hug. “You’re a good guy, Bobby. Thanks,” he murmured.

“Alright, alright, cut the sap. My teeth are about to rot out of my head,” Hangman cut in.

The two men parted, and Jake stepped over to clap Bradley on the back. “Now get outta here and go see your girl, Bradshaw.”

“Aye, aye sir,” he replied with a mock salute.

He watched his friends head out of the waiting room and into the night, Phoenix and Hangman already lightheartedly bickering about something. Probably how they were getting home for the night. Bob shook his head in quiet annoyance, turning back to give Rooster one last wave before they all disappeared outside.

Finally, Bradley turned on his heel and made his way to the elevator. Now that he was alone, his mind threatened to overwhelm him. All the anxiety he’d been trying to keep at bay came rushing to the surface, and his hand trembled as he pressed the button.

It felt like an eternity before the doors finally slid open. He stepped inside and rode up a few floors. He was able to obtain her room number from the front desk after assuring them Dr. Holt had said it was okay for him to stay. Nobody had the heart to tell him otherwise, not with that look of fear written all over his face, which made him look younger than he was.

When he was able to step into her room, the sight he was met with knocked the wind out of him. Yes, he’d seen her half conscious on the bathroom floor hours earlier, but this was different. She was hooked up to different machines, and there was an IV in her arm.

He was overcome with longing. Longing to take her body into his arms and protect her from all harm. Longing to make her pain and sickness go away. It was times like these when he wished he was God, just a little bit. But he was a mere man, and didn’t have the power to do the things the Almighty did.

Instead, he made his way over to her bedside, and sank down into the uncomfortable chair nearby. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hand in his own. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought…I thought I was going to lose you.”

Tears blurred his vision, and he closed his eyes. swallowing them back and instead opting to say something more positive. “Everyone else was scared, too. You should’ve seen them. Even Hangman was worried, if you can believe it.”

He squeezed her hand thrice. I. Love. You. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. I should’ve known something was up when you didn’t answer my texts. I just hate the thought of you needing help and no one being there.”

He could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye. A picture of her. Sick, delirious from fever, entirely alone. It made his heart lurch in his chest. “But, I’m here now, baby. And I’m not gonna leave your side until you open those pretty eyes of yours.”

True to his word, Bradley didn’t leave her side once through the night. He situated himself in that vinyl chair and slept in an uncomfortable position that would be sure to leave a crick in his neck, but it was worth it as long as he got to be near her.

When light began to peek through the clouds, Bradley woke, his bleary eyes settling on the girl who still remained still beside him.

“Morning, baby,” he hummed, reaching out to bring her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His thumb rubbed comforting circles into her skin.

In the wee morning hours, just before the morning nurse came in, Bradley cherished the moment of peace he had with the woman he loved.

He held her hand and silently prayed that she would come back to him. And she did. With the dawning of a new day, she slowly opened her eyes, and in turn, Bradley’s own filled with tears.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he assured her, leaning in close.

When her vision focused, she found the face of a very relieved Bradley Bradshaw staring back at her. His deep umber eyes were brimming with unshed tears, but they quickly made their way down his cheeks.

She was quiet as she oriented herself. It was clear that she was in the hospital. But she had no recollection of how she got there. The last thing she remembered was getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

“Wh-what happened?” She croaked. His hand tightened comfortingly around hers.

“You were really sick. We found you unconscious at the apartment.”

“We?”

“Yeah, uh, me, Phoenix, Bob, and Hangman. They helped me get you to the hospital.”

She shifted a little, and realized the crushing headache that had been plaguing her the last few days was gone. “How long have I been here?”

“Since last night. They got you on some antibiotics and brought your fever down.”

She looked at him again, gazing into his kind, concerned face. “Is this the part where you play mother hen and scold me for not asking for help sooner?” There was a smile playing on her lips.

Bradley raised his brow. “Actually, yes. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was just a headache, nothing worth bothering you over. I figured I’d take some Excedrin and feel better in a few hours. But a few hours turned into a few days, and then I was out of my mind with fever.”

The man sighed. “Well, I should’ve known something was up when you didn’t answer your phone. That’s when I should have sent Penny to check on you.”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself, sweet man. I’m okay now, you don’t need to beat yourself up.”

“I always do,” he countered. He was right about that, he had quite the tendency to get too far into his own head and berate himself for things.

Then he sobered, eyes meeting her own. “Finding you like that…it was one of the scariest moments of my life. I froze up. It was like my body couldn’t move. I was fucking terrified.” His gaze lowered to their joined hands. “Bob was the one who kinda got the ball rolling and helped me snap out of it. That guy is something else.”

She smiled softly. “Remind me to thank him, then,” she said.

“You should thank all three of them. They stayed with me in the waiting room the whole time. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them.”

Her heart was touched at the loyalty of their friends. “When I get out of here we can take them out as a thank you.”

Rooster mirrored her smile. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Their private moment was soon interrupted as a nurse walked into the room. He took that as a sign to excuse himself and text the three pilots who just so happened to already be waiting outside the hospital, eager to come inside and visit.

“You think she’s awake yet?” Jake questioned as they stood around Natasha’s car.

“I don’t know, Rooster didn’t say anything yet,” she replied.

“Guys, he just did,” Bob spoke up, holding up his phone. Both of them looked at their own phones, and sure enough, there was a text from Bradley.

She’s awake :) we’re in room 315

The trio all exchanged looks, smiles on their faces. “One minute ‘til visiting hours start,” Bob spoke, matter-of-factly.

“Close enough. Let’s go,” Hangman said, waving for them to follow.

They all headed inside, scrambling for the elevator, arms full of pastry bags from the base cafe. When they finally made it to her room, they found her seated upright in bed, Bradley at her bedside. She smiled at the three of them, and suddenly they were all talking at once, expressing their relief that she was okay.

She laughed at their eagerness, and gladly accepted the hugs they all gave her, along with the pastries. The dark, heavy cloud that had hovered over everyone was finally lifted, replaced by the sunshine of their smiles.

“You should’ve seen Prince Charming over here,” Jake spoke up, clapping a hand against Bradley’s shoulder. Prince Charming was the nickname Jake had dubbed him after he met her, his princess. “He was worried sick about you. I thought he was gonna pull his hair out by how much he kept raking his hands through it.”

Bradley smiled sheepishly. She reached for his hand again and gave it three squeezes. I. Love. You. “Sounds like my Rooster,” she said fondly. Then she addressed them all. “Thank you guys for looking out for me. Bradley says you stayed with him the whole time.”

“It didn’t feel right to leave him alone,” said Natasha. “Plus we all wanted to stick around and find out if you were going to be okay. Can’t tell you how relieved we were when the doc said you would be.”

“Yeah. You had us scared there for a minute,” Bob piped up. His blue eyed gaze was warm.

“When I get out of here, Roos and I are taking you all out as a thank you.”

“We’ll go, but only if you promise one thing,” Hangman spoke.

“What’s that?”

“That you never scare us like that again.”

She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. “Deal,” she agreed.

And that’s how she spent her morning. In a hospital room, surrounded by the love of her life and her closest friends, sharing pastries, shitty coffee, and laughter.

She knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these people were her ride-or-dies. They’d follow her and Bradley to the ends of the earth, if need be. And she couldn’t ask for better friends if she wanted to.

She had everything she could ever need, right there in the middle of her hospital room. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

@halfway-happyyy @natasharomanoffisbaebby @oliviabelova @robertbobfloydlover @supernaturaldawning @marrianena @mys2425 @n3ssm0nique @ice-mans-world @lovemesomevesey @straightforwardly @mochi-de-bisou @christinafaucher @emmmaturtle @fantasias-creativebubble @worldmadeofmemories @tarohemianrocketmanapsody @m0chac0ffee @not-leaprvt @i-simp-much @soaharleys @colorfultyrantearthquake @obxsuperfan07 @juniebugg @marchingicenotes7 @airedale17 @jamiedontbeacracko @monosjoons @dilfsandtherapy @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @unluckymonaghan

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 years ago

Text

I Thought I’d Lost You

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

This is my first ever Top Gun fic so I’m really excited to see what you guys think of it. Please feel free to let me know what you think or any improvements and as always requests are always open.

Summary: Hangman has been in love with you for years but has never wanted to admit it. After a near fateful accident however he realise he needs to live everyday like his last. Your call sign is Rebel.

“So when are you gonna tell her.” Rooster smiled, leaning back in his deckchair. You were standing chatting to Phoenix and Coyote further down the beach. You had your hair pulled back into a ponytail and it swayed as you laughed, throwing your head back at something Phoenix had said.

“Tell who what?” Jake laughed, looking down into his beer bottle. “What are you on about Rooster.” He knew exactly who Rooster was talking about and he watched you spray the sun cream up your arm. He watched as it glistened over your tanned skin.

“You know damn well what I’m on about. Don’t give me that look. You follow her round like a lost puppy, you’re so in love with her and you just won’t admit it will you?”

“Who Rebel?” Hangman asked in mock shock. “I am not in love with Rebel. We’re just friends. Ok.” He glared at Rooster.

“Ok. Ok.” Rooster put his hands up in surrender, standing up from his deck chair. “Your gonna have to tell her at some point man. You can’t hide your feelings forever.”

………………………………………………………………………………….

Later that evening Jake offered to walk you home, it was only a 20-minute walk from the bar but he had insisted. Phoenix had already dropped off Bob and Coyote, Fanboy and Payback had left earlier and Rooster was hanging out with Maverick at the bar.

The evening air was cool as you left the warm glow of the Hard Deck behind and made your way out into the gloomy car park. You walked together in silence for most of the journey, occasionally commenting on what happened in training that day or your friend's antics that evening. You could feel the butterflies fluttering around your stomach every time you swung your arm, gently brushing your fingertips together. You could feel the sweat trickling down your forehead as your mind racing at a million miles an hour. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was walking you home. This man was a chiselled god and he was walking you home.

Jake kept looking down at you and when you caught his gaze he smiled sweetly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling slightly. His tanned skin glowed in the dim light of the street lamps.

Jake couldn’t believe his luck, the girl he had been in love with since the first day he met her was letting him walk her home. For once he didn’t mean anything by it, no hidden agenda. He just wanted you to get home safe and the little alone time was a bonus.

“Well, this is me”. You said, pointing towards your rental unit. It was plain and white and identical to all the others in this row, except for the flowers outside. “Thanks for walking me back. I didn’t want to have to wait for Mav to give me a ride. I think he has plans with Penny anyway.”

“No problem. I wasn’t gonna leave a lovely lady such as yourself stranded.” He flirted shamelessly with you. Laughing you began to make your way up the steps.

“Goodnight Jake. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Night (y/n).”

He watched as you walked up the steps, opening the door and closing it softly behind you. At that moment, Jake knew he was done for. He had never walked a girl home before without going inside. Maybe Rooster was right. Maybe he was in love with you.

………………………………………………………………………………….

“I think you need to tell him,” Phoenix said, slamming the door to her locker rather abruptly and grabbing her helmet off the bench.

“Tell him what Phoenix, there nothing to tell. He’s my friend and that’s all it will ever be ok.” You said rather more harshly than you would have liked to.

Phoenix looked at you sadly. “I hate to see you wallowing in your feelings (y/n). You’re like a completely different person with him, so bright and happy. I want you to be happy all the time, you’re my best friend and you have fawned over Jake Seresin for 5 years. It’s time to get a piece of that fine ass of his. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you looking at it.” You both laughed and you couldn’t help but picture Jake that day on the beach playing dogfight football.

“You are my best friend (y/n) and I love you and I’ll support whatever you do ok. And just know if he breaks your heart I will kill him.”

“Thanks, Nat.” You pulled your fellow pilot into a tight hug. Maybe she was right, maybe you should just step up and tell Jake how you felt.

“Come on Mav will be waiting for us and I swear to god if I have to do 200 push-ups again I think I might die.”

“Yeah me too. God, I still ache from yesterday.”

You made your way out of the locker room and down the hall toward the hangers. Once outside you could see the boys all lined up waiting for you. Maverick was giving them some kind of pep talk. Jake turned when he saw you coming and smiled brightly at you. You smiled back.

“Just think,” Phoenix whispered in your ear, “If you finally tell hangman how you feel maybe he’ll give you a nice massage after your 200 push-ups.” She smirked mischievously at you and evaded your arms as you swatted at her.

“Phoenix. Rebel. Nice of you to finally join us.” Maverick said as they all turned to look at you.

Oh boy, here we go again.

………………………………………………………………………………….

Training had been going well so far. Everyone had been flying better and Mav seemed in a relatively good mood. You were teamed up with Phoenix and Bob today and the banter was flying between you. Even Bob joined in. Everything had gone to plan until the bird strike. Your left engine had been hit and was now on fire. “Turning off left engine. Igniting fire.” You spoke into your mask. That’s when the right engine went up in flames. You did the same as you had with the left before trying to restart them. By this point, your plane was plummeting towards the ground.

‘ALTITUDE!ALTITUDE! PULL UP! PULL UP!‘ it repeated. You remembered the control plane became a flame with warning lights.

“REBEL YOU CANT SAVE THIS! EJECT! EJECT!” Maverick was shouting in your ear. Without a second thought, you grabbed the ejection handle beneath your seat and went hurtling out the top of the plane. Your landing was rough and you hit the ground hard. You distinctly remember someone shouting in your ear before everything went dark.

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Mav tell me what happened? Is she ok? She has to be ok. I can't… I can't.” Jake's eyes welled with tears. He couldn’t think straight, his mind spinning out of control. As soon as he saw Phoenix and Bob land with no sign of you he knew something was wrong. Once Maverick opened the canopy of his plane, Jake had set about rambling incoherently.

Maverick had managed to get him back to the hangers and sat him down.

“There was a bird strike. Rebel’s plane was hit and she had to eject. Her landing was pretty rough. The med evacuation team picked her up and she has be taken to the on-base hospital. They said that her condition is currently stable although she did sustain trauma to her head and she’ll be grounded for a while. Hey Hangman… Jake, you ok?” Maverick waved his arm in Jake’s face as he blinked slowly.

“Umm, I think so. Can I see her?” Maverick could see the tears waiting to overflow in the young man’s eyes, his face pale and his knee bouncing anxiously under the table.

“Yeah, course you can. Take the rest of the day off ok. I’ll let Cyclone know.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He stood up slowly, making his way toward the hospital.

“And Hangman.” Maverick's voice called after him.

“Yes Sir.” Jake whipped around quickly.

“Tell her you’re in love with her for Christ's sake. I can’t stand much more of that pitiful look you give her. I also have a bet going with Rooster and if you tell her by the end of the week he owes me 50 bucks.”

“Hang you bet on us. What the… you know what I don’t even care right now. Tell Rooster he owes you Mav.”

………………………………………………………………………………….

The first thing Jake noticed as he entered the hospital was the smell. It hit him as soon as he walked through the doors. Clinical. He remembered it from when he visited his grandparents when he was little and he hated hospitals ever since. Your room was easy to find. Most of the nurses knew him from his endless flirting and were happy to assist him, although their faces did drop when they realised it was a girl he was here to see. Jake wasn’t in the mood to flirt with them, he only had you on his mind and so thanked them quietly when they left him at your door.

He stood there for a good 5 minutes contemplating whether to open it or not.

‘Come on Jake you got this. Just go in there and confess your undying love to the girl of your dreams. What could go wrong.’ With that, he abruptly opened the door and sent it flying back on its hinges with a loud bang.

You jumped slightly from your position on your bed, tucked up amongst the white sheets.

You smiled at him as he glanced around the room, looking a little shocked.

“You always did know how to make an entrance Seresin.” You laughed as you watched his bewildered expression, before racing towards your bed and engulfing you in a bear hug.

“God I thought I’d lost you.” He sobbed into your hair. You could feel his strong body shaking against you as you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing gently.

“It’s ok shh. I’m ok.” You sat like this for a while as Jake’s sobs slowly became quiet whimpers. You were shocked, to say the least, you knew Jake liked you, and you guys got on well as friends but this reaction was something else. Maybe your feelings weren’t so unrequited.

“Jake,” you said slowly, easing him slowly back and peeling his arms off you, taking his hands into your lap. “Jake,” you repeated, placing your fingers gently under his quivering chin so he’d look at you. “Are you ok?”

He laughed harshly, wiping snot from his nose, “You're asking me if I’m ok. (Y/n) you’re the one that had to eject from your plane. You’re the one who’s in hospital and you’re worried about me. God, I love you.” He snapped his jaw shut so quickly it clicked. Your face slowly contorted into a look of shock as the information sunk it. ‘He what!’

Jake realising that he had just blurted out his biggest secret ever, slowly lent back from you bringing his hand up and running it furiously through his blonde hair.

“God (y/n)… I’m…” but you cut him off, crashing your lips to his. Slinging your hand around his neck dragging him closer and grabbing a handful of his blonde hair. Jake was still above you, completely in shock. Your lips felt so soft against his, moving so passionately but why wasn’t he kissing you back? His brain kicked into action and he began to move his lips against yours, moulding perfectly. Your mouths fought for dominance but Jake’s ultimately won and he forced his tongue into your mouth. The kiss was heated as you both poured all your feelings from the past 5 years into it. All those nervous glances and gentle touches, all those times of ‘what if’ had finally come down to this moment. Reluctantly you pulled away from him gasping for air.

“God how hard did I hit my head.” You asked, rubbing the bandage that was wrapped around it.

“No darling you're not dreaming.” His texas drawl came through as he caressed the side of your face.

“I love you (y/n). I have ever since we met 5 years ago at…”

“… the Hard Deck when I beat you at the pool.”

“Yes, darling. Ever since then and I’ve loved you every day since. I’m so sorry it took me so long to tell you and after today, when I thought I’d lost you I…”

“I love you too.” He looked down at you stunned, looking for any kind of lie in your blue eyes but he saw none, they just looked at him, so full of love that he felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

“I… it’s…”

“Just shut up and kiss me Seresin.” And that was all it took for Jake to wrap his arms around your small frame, careful to avoid any bruises. His lips pressed firmly to yours, softer this time, pouring all the emotions of the day into it. His hand knotted in your hair as you pulled him down toward you on the bed. Both were too preoccupied to notice the other visitors at the door.

“Well damn.” Rooster said, “I guess I do owe Mav.”

“And me. Hand it over Bradshaw,” Phoenix clicked her fingers impatiently at her fellow aviator.

He handed her over the money groaning. “If Hangman could’ve kept it in his pants for another month I’d have been home and dry.”

“Well, I think after today’s events he’s decided to live each day like his last,” Bob said, sliding his hand into Phoenix’s as she gave him a soft smile.

“God! You guys too. Now I owe Coyote money.” The pair laughed at him, turning away from your room and making their way down the corridor.

“Hey wait up!” Rooster called, running after them. “Do you guys think you could give me a ride to an ATM?”

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #phoenix top gun #bob top gun #bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace

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vintagemulti · 3 years ago

Text

rainfall (part three)

pairings: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x pilot!reader

desc: a girl, the boy she loves, and another girl walk into a bar. wait - where’s the joke?

warnings: swearing, sexual themes, angst, cannon typical injury, alcohol, smoking

a/n: you may hate me after this chapter. sorry. disclaimer that i know nothing about the navy and/or planes.

series masterlist

masterlist

lucky didn’t quite cover it. you’d fallen over a hundred feet and managed to get away with only a few bumps and scrapes, as well as a new fear of fainting at the wheel.

so no, lucky did not quite cover it.

and the doctor had told you so - she had given you a weeks worth of painkillers, although you doubted you’d need them, and strict orders to relax. don’t fly for at least two days, and relax - don’t stress yourself out.

bradley had taken her instructions literally - insisting that he drive you everywhere, get you everything you need and tonight, you and the rest of the team were going to the hard deck to relax. what? the doctor never said anything about not drinking alcohol.

and so there you were, stood in front of your mirror, desperately trying to cover the bruise on your shoulder with concealer. you had about five minutes before pheonix was set to pick you up, bradley had already arranged to meet you there.

you eyed yourself in the mirror, smoothing down your white dress. you’d always been determined to dress for yourself and no one else, never letting a man define how you felt about yourself - but whenever you knew that rooster was going to be around, you couldn’t help but try to look your prettiest.

trying to look your prettiest meant spending twenty minutes picking a dress you thought would make you look best, an hour doing your makeup, thirty minutes panicking that your hair wouldn’t do what you wanted it too - all for the sake of bradley. bradley, who you were sure wouldn’t even notice your appearance.

a car horn from outside broke your trance, when you looked out of the widow, you saw pheonix outside your door.

rushing down the stairs and grabbing your bag, you locked your front door behind you, the hot air of the midsummers night hitting your bare shoulders as soon as you stepped outside.

it was something you never got used to - how hot it was all the time. even late at night, it was humid, muggy, heat hanging in the air.

“hey, rainfall,” pheonix smiled as you slipped into the passenger seat. “feeling alright?”

“oh,” you pulled your sunglasses out of your bag. “better than ever.”

she laughed, pulling away and towards the hard deck. it wasn’t a long drive, only a few minutes.

“so, anything new with you and rooster?” she asked, giving you the side eye.

it was then that you were reminded how long it had been since you were able to catch up with her. five years? maybe more. she’d always been your friend, one of the only other women in your squad.

“not really,” you sighed, looking out the window.

“you still like him?”

you laughed. “a little too much, i think.”

pheonix laughed, turning a corner. “he likes you too, you know?”

“oh, be quiet,” you waved your hand. “don’t give me false hope.”

“he does!” pheonix smiled. “do you not see the way he looks at you?”

sighing, you looked at her. “i’m his friend, alright? i know he only sees me like that.”

“god, y/n,” the hard deck was within view now. “it’s like everyone can see it but you two.”

she pulled into a spot, the parking lot looking busier than the last time you were there. you took your sunglasses off and shoved them back into your bag - passed your phone, your perfume and the two spare condoms you always kept in your bag. just in case.

you’d been smart enough not to wear heels this time, your white converse finally being proof you chose comfort over style. the noise from the bar already hit you, even before you’d walked in, chatter reaching your ears from meters away.

the bar was as busy as you had expected it to be, penny practically run off of her feet. whoever was unlucky enough to be paying for this round would certainly be broke - far worse than you had been.

scanning the room, you couldn’t find a trace of bradley, which was weird to you considering he had promised to be there when you arrived. maybe he was in the bathroom.

you spotted the rest of your team, fanboy taking a pink looking shot, his face scrunched up. walking to them, you noticed more shot glasses on the table, only three of them still being full.

“don’t tell me…” you laughed, eyes still on the shot glasses.

“come on, rainfall, we’ve all taken one. it’s only fair.” fanboy smirked, handing both you and pheonix a glass.

rolling your eyes, you raised the glass to your lips and threw it back, the familiar taste of strawberry sourz crawling onto your tongue.

“god, that stuff is awful!” pheonix exclaimed from next to you, making you laugh.

“c’mon, it’s not so bad! just sweet.”

“yeah, easy for you to say,” payback called. “you who only drinks those fruity, sweet drinks.”

turning to him, you raised your middle finger. “who’s the other glass for?”

“your boyfriend,” bob said. “he’s not here yet.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, confused. he had promised to be here, so why hadn’t he even showed up? he should’ve been here for at least an hour now.

“rainfall!” your thoughts were broken by hangman walking over, a hand patting your back. “just when i thought i finally had a chance at being top of the class.”

you scoffed, turning round to look at him. “never, hangman.”

he stared at you for a moment, sarcastic smirk still painted on his face as he looked down at you.

“now, we had a bet, didn’t we?” he said, looking towards the bar.

“oh, yeah,” you remembered the free drink. “and here i’d almost forgot.”

“mhm,” hangman moved his hand from your back to your waist, steering you towards the bar. “let’s see what you want.”

it was an odd feeling. you weren’t sure if you liked it or not - had you and hangman always had chemistry? had he always flirted with you, you’d just never realised it? surely not. maybe he’d just had one too many to drink, you thought.

“as this is both of our first drinks, i’ll have whatever you order. chose wisely, please.” there goes the one too many idea.

you already knew what you were going to order, oh how the men in your team all seemed to hate fruity drinks; hell, anything that wasn’t beer or whiskey was horrible to them.

“i’ll have a sex on the beach.”

hangman feigned hurt, scrunching up his face and bringing a hand to his chest. “how could you do this to me? for the first drink? damn.”

“what,” you raised an eyebrow. “you don’t want sex on the beach?”

another shocked look made its way onto hangman’s face, not this time out of an insult or distaste of drink - a shock of ‘i can’t believe you just said that’, a shock of ‘wait, are you flirting with me?’. that kind of shock.

truthfully, you weren’t sure why you were flirting with him - at all. maybe he reminded you of bradley, maybe you missed bradley. maybe you were just really sexually frustrated.

penny laughed as hangman ordered the drinks, knowing it must have been something of your doing, but got to making them either way.

“you look nice, by the way.” hangman said, eyes trailing over your dress.

“oh,” you smiled. “thanks.”

“you suit white,” he added. “that bruise must hurt like a bitch, though.”

you looked down at your shoulder, any attempt you’d made with concealer making absolutely no difference.

“yeah, it fuckin’ does. but i can’t take any painkillers, cause then i can’t drink. god forbid not being able to have a drink, right?”

hangman laughed, looking around the bar. “yeah, i get you.”

as penny handed the two of you your drinks - served with an extra cherry for hangman, making you giggle - the bell above the door tinkled, your eyes snapping to it in hopes of seeing bradley.

you were half relived. it was bradley after all, he had walked in a few steps, stopped, turned and waited for someone to come in after him.

it was a girl. not far off your age, giggling as she walked in behind bradley. bradley, who didn’t even look at you as he slung his hand around her bare waist and walked her over to the rest of the team.

you could have been sick.

and hangman noticed - he sipped his drink (which he actually didn’t hate, not that he’d ever tell you that), and watched you as you watched bradley. he pretended not to see the way your eyes clouded a little and your jaw clenched, before you blinked it all away.

“you know what, jake?” it took him by surprise, you using his actual name. “i think we need some more shots.”

“and what do you propose, y/n?” he took another drink.

you thought for a moment, considering what could get you the drunkest the quickest. “vodka, me thinks.”

hangman raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “me also thinks vodka.”

now you had a reason to flirt with hangman. now, you had a hundred reasons to be flirting with hangman. bradley had sat the entire night - hands all over this girl - not even looking at you.

it shouldn’t have hurt you like it did. it shouldn’t have ripped you apart, tearing at your insides with every touch bradley placed on her skin. but it did.

“and so i said, what the fuck are you looking at? you know, in that manly voice that all of you do, and he just stared at me.” pheonix continued her story, a few laughs coming from group.

there was only eight of you, fanboy, payback, hangman, you, bob, pheonix, bradley and whatever the fuck her name was - the other half of your team didn’t have the same schedule as you. the group of you were sat in an almost-circle, a small table in the middle of you all, crowded with drinks.

you were pretending to be interested in her story - you really were. but it was difficult when you could feel eyes burning into the back of your skull, the girl who bradley brought never seeming to take her eyes off or you.

hangman was sat on the couch next to you, hand slung over the back of the seat, but close enough to you that if you leaned back, he’d be touching your shoulders. did he know what he was doing? did he know that he was flirting with someone who was in love with his enemy?

not that you cared all that much, though. you needed a distraction from the train wreck that was your love life.

“i’m gonna get a drink, anyone want anything?” you asked the group, a few people asking for refills.

the bar was even busier than before, you had to fight for a space at the bar. penny really, really needed to hire someone to help her out, you thought.

as you ordered, the empty space beside you was quickly filled, and you recognised the long, dark hair.

“can i get a vodka coke and a redbull, please?” she asked, penny nodding.

“hey, you’re y/n, right?” you turned, forcing a smile the best you could.

“yeah, bradley brought you? sorry, i didn’t catch your name.”

“cassie,” she smiled. “yeah, he did.”

nodding, you tried to avoid conversation like it was the plague.

“god, i don’t know how he drinks that stuff,” her voice was scratchy, clawing at your ears as it made its way to your brain.

“what? vodka coke?” you asked.

“no,” she laughed, although it was painfully forced. “redbull. it’s disgusting.”

“what, is he not drinking?”

cassie shook her head. “no, he has to drive me home.”

that made it even fucking worse. he wasn’t even here because it was the closest place to get a drink - he was here because he wanted to bring a girl to a bar.

“well,” penny placed the drinks down in front of you. “when you work hours like we do, you get used to it.”

not even sparing her a look as you walked away, you handed the drinks to the different people before throwing yourself back into your seat, hangman looking at you in somewhat concern, his hand gently landing on your thigh.

“you alright?”

“tired,” you mumbled, taking a drink. “really fucking tired.”

“amen to that,” hangman clinked his own glass against yours.

it was in that moment that you made eye contact with bradley for the first time that night, and it was almost painful. he looked just about as hurt as you - although you had no fucking idea what he could he sad about. he wasn’t the one watching the person he’d loved for years flirt with someone else. well, that’s what you thought anyways.

“i’m going for a smoke,” he declared to the group, not breaking the eye contact between you two.

you watched him for a few steps, sighing before taking a drink, and standing up yourself. hangman’s hand fell from your thigh, as he stared at you.

“i need a smoke as well.”

the look on his face told you that he understood.

it was colder outside now, you hugged your arms as the night’s air bit at your skin. looking for bradley, the familiar silhouette was leaning against the range rover parked at the other side of the lot.

“well, look who it is.” bradley said, his tone something that you couldn’t quite work out.

“yeah, hi to you, too.” you snapped.

he raised an eyebrow, taking a drag and throwing his head back against the roof. “you were preoccupied.”

“the fuck is that supposed to mean, bradley?”

“you know,” he looked back at you. “we should have still been in bali right now.”

“yeah, i’m beginning to think we should go back.” you said. “you seem to have left your manners there.”

bradley scoffed, taking another drag. “manners. fuck me, y/n. we should’ve been in bali, but no. we’re here, one of us flirting with hangman.”

you walked to him, taking the cigarette out of his fingers and throwing it to the ground. “he’s a friend, bradley. am i not allowed to have friends?”

“friends, my ass.” he bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to look at you.

“oh yeah, like you and that cassie girl? she seems nice, maybe someone should tell her that you’re an asshole.”

“oh, i’m the asshole?” bradley pushed himself away from the car, taking a few steps away. “i’m the fucking asshole here?”

“yes, bradley! you haven’t even looked at me all fucking night!”

“hangman’s been looking at you enough for all of us.”

you shook your head. “i can’t fucking believe you, bradley.”

“the feeling’s mutual.” he snapped.

“how?” you yelled, walking towards him. “what the fuck have i done?”

“you-” bradley stopped. “you show up here, looking like that, all over hangman. you know i don’t fucking like him, y/n! why him, huh?”

“looking like what? like what, bradley? since when did you dictate what i wear and who i talk to?”

he glared at you. “you know i didn’t fucking mean it like that.”

“then what!? what, bradley? you were the one who was late, you were the one who showed up with a random girl! you didn’t even introduce me!”

“why should i!?” he yelled. “i’m your best friend, yeah, but you don’t care about that shit! i know you don’t, alright?”

before you could even get a word out before you heard footsteps behind you, approaching.

“y/n, what’s going on?” hangman’s voice cut through the air, he was walking towards you, your handbag in one of his hands.

bradley scoffed, shaking his head at you. “yeah, here we fucking go.”

“the fuck is your problem, bradshaw?” hangman stepped in front of you, tilting his head.

“this is so fucking typical, y/n. yeah, big bad fucking me as always!”

“watch how you talk to her, you little shit.”

“or what?” bradley turned to him, almost squaring up. “or fucking what? just say your fucking her, hangman. it’s what she wants right? to rub it in my fucking face.”

you pulled hangman back by his shoulder, coming face to face with bradley.

“i’m going home.” you mumbled.

and with that, you turned away, grabbing your handbag from hangman’s hand. he stayed where he was for a moment, before he turned and caught up with you.

“let me walk you home?” he asked, meeting your pace.

“please.”

you were glad to live close by, it was getting colder and colder, and even though you had opted for comfort, your feet were beginning to ache.

“what’s his problem?” he asked.

shaking your head, you hugged yourself in attempt to warm up. “i don’t have a fucking clue.”

hangman seemed to notice you were cold, slipping his jacket off of his shoulders and putting it around you before you could even protest.

“thanks, jake,” you smiled.

“bradshaw’s a fucking dick. he shouldn’t be speaking to you like that, you know?” hangman mumbled, hands in his pockets.

“he’s probably just stressed.” you tried to excuse him, waving your hand.

“no,” hangman stopped. “y/n, you don’t talk to people like that, stressed or not.”

nodding, you took a deep breath. “yeah, you’re right.”

fuck, how you hated everything. you hated the way hangman flirted with you - you hated the way you wanted him to because if he was giving you attention, at least someone was. you hated bradley. hated how he made you love him and then pulled shit like this on you.

you hated the navy - you should have been in bali right now. everything could have been perfect.

“this is me,” you smiled as you approached your house.

“thanks for a good night, y/n,” hangman smiled back, looking down at you.

it was a decision you didn’t really process. you didn’t mean to do it - not really. it was like an instinct, something that you knew would be the only way to fix things.

hangman stood still for a moment before he kissed you back. his lips were hot against yours - the taste of some beer seeping into your mouth.

bringing your hands up around his neck, you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, making you moan lightly and you began to pull him forward, up to your front door.

he pushed you against the door, mouth moving from your lips to your jaw to your neck as you fumbled in your bag for keys, struggling to find them in the dark.

the dark, which was broken by the headlights of a car driving past. your eyes snapped up from your bag, going straight to the drivers side. bradley stared back at you, face laces with disgust and hurt.

he drove past so fast you weren’t really sure you even saw it.

feeling metal against your fingers, you pulled out your keys, haphazardly shoving them into the lock behind you and turning.

you weren’t even in the door before hangman had your dress pulled up over your waist, hands grabbing at the flesh as he slammed the door behind you, pushing you up against the nearest wall.

“do you have-”

“in the bag.” you finished for him, once again feeling around in your handbag.

you thanked yourself for always having the ‘just in case’ mindset.

the sun was hot, bearing down on you and clinging to every inch of your skin. you didn’t get why you were here - not really.

maverick had dragged you all to the beach, insisting that he had to build a team. all you thought he was building was the guys’ ego, because watching them strut around all sun kissed and topless was another form of torture.

not that you were feeling that good anyway - last nights activities combines with a heat-caused headache and your worries about what was happening between you and bradley - it was safe to say you were not in a good mood.

speaking of bradley, he had been moping around all day like a sad puppy. you were almost sure it had been him last night who saw you and hangman. god, was he so entitled that he thought you couldn’t fuck other guys? he was the one who had been playing with your feelings for years now.

this morning has been awkward. no other word for it. not quite regret - no, you wouldn’t go that far - but waking up next to hangman, half naked and sore, was something that was most definitely not on your twenty twenty-two bingo card.

and you told pheonix just that, lying on a lounger a few meters away from everyone else.

“holy fucking shit,” she almost laughed. “if there was anyone i would have put together, it most certainly would not have been you and hangman.”

“yeah, yeah,” you sighed. “god, i feel so bad. i hope he doesn’t think we’re dating.”

pheonix looked at your through her orange-tint sunglasses. “i can assure you, he does not.”

“what makes you so sure of that?”

“because, my dear y/n,” she rolled back over. “he’s barely looked in your direction all day, never mind spoken to you.”

“yeah, i suppose- oh shit, speak of the devil.” you pushed your sunglasses up, eyeing hangman as he walked towards you and pheonix.

“can i talk to you for a minute?”

“yeah,” you pushed yourself off of the lounger. “sure.”

pheonix laughed from behind you as you walked away, making you glare over your shoulder at her.

“what’s up?” you turned back to hangman as the two of you walked along the beach.

“i just, um- about last night.”

your mouth made an ‘O’ shape, nodding slowly.

“look, you’re really nice and it’s not that i didn’t enjoy it- trust me, i did, but, you know, the whole dating in the team thing? yeah, i don’t think it would work.”

“no, i hear you,” you said. “i was gonna say the same thing.”

“right, good!” hangman smiled, but it faded. “and i know there’s someone you’d much rather be dating.”

you tried to hide the look on your face, but it spread onto your features before you could stop it.

“i meant what i said last night, you know. he is an asshole.”

“yep,” you laughed lightly. “that he is.”

“we can be friends, you know? write last night off as two drunk people being a little confused.”

both of you stopped walking, smiling softly at each other.

“yeah, that’d be nice,” you nodded. “i never expected this, you know?”

hangman scoffed. “you think i did? this was most certainly not on my-”

“twenty twenty-two bingo card, yeah.” you finished for him, both of you laughing.

“i’m glad we could speak about this.” hangman said, turning back to the way you came.

“so am i, jake.” you looked in the same direction, stopping maverick coming into view.

“what the fuck is he holding?” hangman mumbled.

you sighed, peace was interrupted. “let’s find out.”

maverick was holding two balls, attempting to gather everyone around him, much to their displeasure.

you could see bradley, still looking like a sad puppy, completely refusing to meet your eye. god, should you have felt this bad? guilty? he didn’t control you. but then again, you loved him - the love you had for him had controlled you for years.

“alright, come on guys,” maverick sighed.

“what is the point of this?” fanboy asked, eyebrows raised.

“we need to a team, so,” maverick raised his hands, the two american footballs being emphasised. “we’re gonna play a game.”

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 3 years ago

Text

Fight Through the Pain (Part 2)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader

Word Count: 4011

TW: Angst, Whump, Burns, Injuries, Pain, Broken Arm, Love Confession, Hurt/Comfort, Pain Medication

Notes: A HUGE thank you to everyone who supported Part 1! The response has been amazing and it really means so incredibly much to me!

Part 1, Part 2

Top Gun Masterlist

Rooster… It had been a faint sound, feeble and hoarse, but he had heard you whisper his name across the coms. You were alive. For now at least. And Rooster was determined to do everything in his power to keep it that way even if that meant risking his own life.

He had seen the look of pain that flashed across your face as the missile that was aimed at his plane suddenly slammed into yours instead, and he had managed to catch a glimpse of your limp body as it hung beneath your parachute after you ejected. As much as he had screamed into the coms for you to turn on your beacon, as much as he kept insisting to the others that you were alive, part of him didn’t believe it. So, the second he saw your location beacon flicker to life on his radar, his heart leaped in his chest.

Now, as he ignored everyone’s incessant calls for him to return to the aircraft carrier, he was circling the area around your beacon. It seemed luck was on his side because, while he was unable to spot where you landed amongst the trees, he was able to find an old service road that had been recently cleared of snow. It wasn’t his best landing, and he knew takeoff would be tricky on the uneven surface, but at least it was something he could work with.

His engine didn’t even have time to sputter to a stop before he was out of the cockpit and jumping to the ground. The signal from your beacon had placed you not too far from here, but as Rooster sprinted towards the location, he saw no sign of you. A million thoughts spiraled through his head. Maybe you had been captured. Maybe the beacon had fallen off your suit and malfunctioned, turning on by itself. Maybe he wasn’t going to reach you in time, wasn’t going to have the chance to tell you….

But just then, he spotted something to his right. You were laying on your side with your back towards him, crumpled at the base of a tree with your parachute tangled in the limbs high above you. As he rushed to your side, he noticed your entire body was shivering but whether it was from the cold, the pain, or some sort of shock, Rooster couldn’t tell. Normally this fact would have worried him, but at the moment, he was just relieved for a sign that you were alive. As carefully as he could, he eased you onto your back, before gasping in alarm.

Your helmet had blocked the majority of the flames from reaching your head and face, but the rest of your body hadn’t fared so well. Normally, the flight suits were able to provide some protection against fire, but for some reason (maybe the heat intensity or just an issue with the suit) it hadn’t stopped the flames from burning through to your skin. Large sections of your flight suit were burned away, and Rooster could see your scorched skin poking through. Some places didn’t look too badly damaged, yet others looked severely blistered and bright red. Your hands were the worst since your fingerless gloves had offered your fingertips absolutely no protection. They were swollen, puffy, and red with nasty-looking blisters running all across each finger. He couldn’t imagine how much pain you must be in at the moment, and it had all been for him.

“Mav,” he called into his coms, his voice breaking even as he struggled to remain calm. “I found her.”

“Jesus, Rooster. I told you to let a rescue team come for her. There’s nothing you can do in a single-seater plane, and you just put yourself in more danger.” Maverick sighed, “But you’re there now. You need to try and find someplace the two of you can hide until help can arrive.”

“I-I don’t know if I should move her. She’s hurt and it’s…. it’s bad, Mav. I don’t…. she’s alive but unconscious and she’s burned really badly. I’m guessing 2nd, maybe borderline 3rd degree burns in some places.”

Mav swore under his breath. “Are you at least in a place that is somewhat hidden from above?”

Rooster looked around. “Not really. I found an old service road to land on about a quarter-mile from where she fell. She’s in the middle of a bunch of trees but that area is still pretty open.”

“Okay. I know it might be tough to move her, but you need to get farther into the tree coverage and as far away from your plane as you can. We’re trying to figure out a way to get her out of there so just sit tight and be safe.”

“Got it. But Mav….. hurry.” As the coms fell silent, Rooster knew the planes would soon be out of range. The two of you were on your own.

Glancing down at you, Rooster thought about what Mav said about finding cover. So, he grabbed your arms as carefully as possible and began to pull, planning on carrying you to a safer location. Instantly, however, you let out a blood-curdling scream as you bolted upright, your eyes snapping open. Rooster glanced down in horror to see the bone in your arm practically breaking through your skin. As carefully as he could, he eased your bone back into place and you collapsed back against his arm, panting heavily with your eyes once again closed. Rooster wasn’t sure if you had slipped back into unconsciousness or not. Gently, he lowered you back down into the snow and ran his hand soothingly across the strands of hair sticking out from your helmet as he muttered, “I’m sorry, Bee. I didn’t notice your arm. I’m so sorry. It’s okay…. You’re going to be okay…”

You were now shivering harder, the look of agony still screwed across your face. But you slowly opened your eyes, giving them a few seconds to focus through the pain. When you finally recognized the man in front of you, your lips twitched upward just the slightest bit.

“Rooster…..” His name was little more than a breath on your lips, but a surge of relief roared through his chest at the sound.

He trailed the back of his knuckles across your cheek, and you gently leaned into his touch. “Yeah. Yeah, Bee, it’s me.”

Slowly, you moved your lips a few times as if working up the strength to speak. But eventually, you managed to croak out, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Rooster grinned, “I’m here to rescue you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a bang-up job so far.” You moaned again as you shifted your arm. “Fuck!”

“I’m so sorry, Bee! I was so focused on your other injuries, I didn’t see your arm. How bad is it?”

“Bad,” you said weakly. “But at least the burns are mostly numbed from all the snow. Now it’s just a mild agony instead of a living hell.” You tried to flash him a small, playful smile, but it just ended up a pained grimace.

Rooster stared down at you with tears in his eyes as he ran his fingers across your skin at the edge of your helmet. “Why did you do this? Why did you take those missiles for me? You could have died. You almost did.”

“Couldn’t lose you. Saw ‘em heading for your plane and…. Didn’t think, just did. Like Mav said.” Your words were growing heavy as if each one was a struggle to pass from your lips, but your gaze seemed more focused than before. “I couldn’t- couldn’t watch you die.”

“But you think I could watch you die instead? Because I can’t. For those few minutes when I thought you’d….. I hadn’t felt that kind of pain, that kind of fear since my mom died. Don’t you get it? Bumblebee, I-”

But before Rooster could finally admit to you how he felt, a plane roared directly overhead. Rooster threw himself over you, careful not to put pressure on your wounds while still protecting you from the threat above. His face was now hovering directly above yours, your lips now just mere inches from his. Despite the apparent danger, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them.

Leaning in slowly, he whispered once again, “Bee, I-”

“Sounded like ours.”

Your observation snapped Rooster back into focus. “What?”

“The plane. It was a Hornet. Know that sound anywhere,” you said softly, your lips so close Rooster felt the air shift as you spoke.

Reluctantly, Rooster dragged himself away from you and glanced towards the sky. After a moment, the plane flew by again and he could see you were right. It was one of your team’s F/A-18s. But this time it came in lower and slower as if it were coming in for a landing. Right around the spot Rooster had landed…..

“I think that’s our ride.” Rooster glanced down at you, still slightly shivering on the ground. “Do you think you can walk if I help you?”

You shook your head slowly. “Roo, I’m barely hanging on right now. I can’t….”

You struggled to explain but Rooster hushed you, “Shhh. It’s okay, I get it. Don’t worry, I’ll carry you. But…. It’s a little bit of a hike and it’s going to hurt. Do you think you’re up for it?”

“Do what you have to,” you mumbled, eyes drifting closed slightly.

Rooster nodded before sliding his arms under your back and knees. Already, you were flinching at the movement, but Rooster knew things were about to get a lot worse. “Okay, on the count of three I’m going to lift you up. If you feel like you’re going to pass out, don’t fight it. Just let it happen. If you’re unconscious, hopefully, the pain won’t be as bad. Are you ready?” After a small nod from you, Rooster took a deep breath. “One…. two….. three!”

This time as he lifted you, you managed to hold back your screams, yet Rooster could see the pain radiating through your body. Your eyes screwed shut tightly and the muscles in your neck tensed as you clenched your teeth forcefully together. Rooster could see your fingers involuntarily trying to grip at your flight suit which only added to your pain as your swollen, burned joints attempted in vain to bend.

Rooster finally got you settled into what seemed like a comfortable position, and you collapsed against him, all the tension leaving your body as if whatever strings had been holding you rigid were suddenly cut. Your head, heavy from still wearing your helmet, rested against his shoulder as you gasped heavily trying to catch your breath. Eventually, your breathing returned to somewhat normal, and Rooster saw your thumb twitch upward in a poor attempt at a thumbs up. Without a word, he started his trek back to his plane.

As he approached the road about five minutes later, he saw the two-seater F/A-18 had just landed on the same service road as him, stopping a few hundred feet behind his plane. When the canopy swung open and Rooster recognized the pilot inside, he slowed to a stop in disbelief. “Hangman?”

The blond grinned as he undid his harness and took off his helmet, before dramatically jumping to the ground. “Good afternoon, ladies, this is your savior. Welcome to your direct flight the hell out of here.”

Slowly, Rooster began approaching the plane once more. As he drew closer, he could see the moment Hangman got his first real look at you. The cocky grin slipped from his face as it went white as the snow around him and he whispered, “Jesus.”

Rooster just nodded, knowing if he tried to open his mouth right now, he wouldn’t be able to hold back the sob that was threatening to tear from his chest. On the walk here, you had moaned and cried out in pain every hundred feet or so as your burned skin brushed up against Rooster or your arm shifted positions slightly. He had silently prayed that you would slip back into unconsciousness, but neither one of you had been that lucky. So now, he just walked past the stunned Hangman and over to the plane as he tried to keep from breaking down.

However, as he approached the ladder, he realized he had a problem. He couldn’t climb up to the cockpit with you still in his arms. But before he could figure out what to do, he felt a soft nudge at his arm.

“Here, hand her over while you climb the ladder then I can pass her up to you.” Hangman offered out his open arms. Rooster eyed them for a moment, reluctant to let you leave the safety of his embrace. However, as much as an asshole Hangman could be, he knew you would be safe with him, especially for just the moment it would take him to climb up.

So, as carefully as he could, he eased your trembling form into Hangman’s arms. You let out another low moan as your eyes flickered open, and it took a moment for you to be able to focus on the man now holding you. But once you did, your lips curled up slightly as you realized who it was. In a hoarse whisper, you said, “Hangman. Thanks for not living down to your name…. for once.”

The pilot grinned. “Yeah, well, we never definitively established which one of us is the better pilot and I wasn’t going to have people say I won by default.”

You chuckled weakly as you croaked out, “Think this’ll give you an advantage, think again. I’ll be back kicking your ass in no time.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Rooster cleared his throat as he reached the top of the ladder and Hangman’s eyes darted towards him. Once again, you were passed between the men, resulting in more moans and groans of pain. But Rooster managed to lift you into the backseat of the plane and get you settled in.

As he carefully buckled you into the harnesses, your eyes flickered to his. Struggling to speak, you managed to whimper, “Thanks for coming for me.”

He leaned his head against your helmet. “You saved me first. And I couldn’t just leave you out here alone.”

“Roo…. I-” But you faltered as you tried to get the words out, your breathing slowly becoming more and more ragged.

Rooster smiled softly as he attached the spare oxygen mask to your helmet and positioned it over your mouth, silencing your attempts to speak. “It’s okay. You can tell me when we get home. Just…. rest. We’ve got you from here.” You nodded softly and closed your eyes.

As Rooster dropped back to the ground, Hangman leaned in and murmured, “I didn’t realize it was that bad. She’s gonna need some serious medical attention and fast.”

“Yeah, I know. So, you need to fly as carefully as you can. She’s hanging on at the moment, but I’m afraid what high Gs or trick moves might do to her. In addition to the burns, her arm’s broken and there might be more broken bones or internal injuries. I’ll cover you the whole way so if there’s any trouble, let me handle it first.”

Hangman thought for a minute then shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

Rooster stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean ‘you don’t think so’?”

The other pilot gestured to the plane you were currently strapped into. “You take that one, bring her home safely. I’ll cover your back in your plane.”

“Are you sure? You’ve already done enough seeing as you didn’t even have to be here. The single plane is going to have to provide offense and defense for the other one, meaning it will be at the most risk. I can’t ask you to do that. I’m the one who insisted on coming back for her.”

“Yeah, and we both know why you did. We all heard you over the coms earlier.” Rooster’s face grew bright red as he realized everyone had heard him confess his love to you before your beacon had turned on. But instead of teasing him as expected, Hangman just said, “Face it, you’re not going to be able to focus if you can’t keep an eye on her yourself. Besides, out of the two of us, I’m the only one who has a confirmed air-to-air kill so I’m the better choice for this. And most importantly….. she needs you right now, Rooster, not me.” Rooster still eyed him skeptically, until Hangman finally threw up his hands in frustration. “Fine. I also hate flying the two-seaters. The balance just feels off and I don’t feel like I have enough room. So, if letting you fly her back means I get the single-seater, then go for it!”

That sounded more like the Hangman he knew. Yet, Rooster saw the way he looked at your broken form. Despite his often selfish or self-centered attitude, deep down Hangman was a good guy and right now it seemed he was willing to give any excuse necessary to get Rooster to take the two-seater like he knew he wanted. So, Rooster just nodded his thanks and climbed into the front of the plane you were in.

As Rooster settled in and began examining the control panel, he heard your voice coming weakly through the headset, “Rooster…. Don’t worry ‘bout me. Do what you can to make it out of this.” He tried to protest but you cut him off. “You’re the pilot. Something happens to you, I’m done. Least one of us needs to make it. So, do what you have to… Make it back…… Make this pain worth it………” Your voice trailed off and Rooster thought you had passed out again. That was until he heard you whisper one final sentence. “And Roo….. I love you too…….”

Rooster whipped around in his seat to stare at you, but he could only watch as your head slumped against the side of the plane. You were still breathing but he was afraid that might not be the case much longer.

He turned back to the controls as he started the plane up, but his mind was solely on your last words. It wasn’t just that you said you loved him, it was that you loved him too. Had you heard his confession over the coms before your beacon turned on? Had you been able to figure out what he was trying to say out in the woods? Did you notice how he leaned in for a kiss just before Hangman’s plane had shown up? And, however you knew, were you just saying what you thought he needed to hear right now? With a sigh, he started easing the plane forward, praying that he would get the chance to ask you these questions.

Luckily, the ride back had been smooth thanks to Maverick and the rest of the team. They had circled back and provided extra air support in addition to Hangman so even when a few Su-57s had shown up, Mav and Hangman were able to take care of them without Rooster having to take evasive maneuvers. When he had landed on the deck and opened the canopy, he had been met with a respectful silence. All the men and women working on the deck who usually would have been celebrating and cheering had just stood silently as Rooster unbuckled your harness and lifted you down to Hondo. Without the plane’s oxygen, your chest had been scarcely rising anymore, and your body was completely limp. After he quickly climbed down, Rooster had taken you into his arms once more and quickly, solemnly carried you to the medical bay.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, he heard a cheerful roar coming from the other side as Hangman’s plane landed. And even now as he sat outside your room as the doctors worked on you, he could hear the celebration still going on above him. But they should be celebrating. The mission had been a complete success and the target had been destroyed. And yet, how was he supposed to be happy about that while you lay here fighting for your life?

A few hours later, one of the doctors emerged and filled him in on your condition. They had treated your burns as best as they could at the moment, but you were going to need further care and probably a few skin grafts back on shore. But they had managed to set your broken arm and you didn’t seem to have any other broken bones. You were awake and asking for him, so the doctor led Rooster into your room.

Rooster was amazed at how much better you looked compared to when he had been rushed out of the room. Your burns were covered in gauze and bandages and there was a cast running from your wrist to your elbow on your left arm. But your eyes were wide open and there was a huge smile on your face as he walked in. “Roo! There you are!”

Rooster eyed you suspiciously. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better than okay. I’m fantastic! Whatever pain meds they have me on at the moment are amazing! I barely feel anything at all. ‘Course I’m also seeing two of you right now but…” You giggled lightly and Rooster couldn’t help but smile as he settled into the seat next to your bed.

“The doctor told me your prognosis. It’s not great, but at least they don’t think you’re in any serious danger anymore.”

“All because of you.” You laid your thickly wrapped hand over the top of his.

Rooster shook his head. “No, it’s like I said before. I was just repaying the favor. You were only in this position because you risked your life to save me. So, thank you.” He gazed into your eyes for a long moment before sighing. “Bee….. did you hear me on the coms right before you turned your beacon on?”

The goofy grin on your face dropped. “Oh, God. Was I not supposed to? I-I thought…. Yeah, I heard you. It’s what gave me the strength to fight through the pain and turn on the beacon. Because I-I had to tell you…. But what are you saying? Did you just tell me that in the heat of the moment? Did you not really mean it?”

“No! No, I mean it.” Rooster took your hands gently in his, careful not to put too much pressure on them. “I just… I wasn’t sure if that was why you said…. If you really meant…”

The smile returned tenfold to your face. “Yeah, yeah, I meant it too. It’s why I did what I did. It’s why I would die for you. I love you, Rooster.”

“I love you too, Bumblebee.” Rooster leaned in to press his lips against yours, but you stopped him.

“Roo, I want to kiss you, so bad. But, um, do you think we could wait?”

Rooster felt slightly hurt but said, “Yeah, sure. Can I ask why?”

“I really want to remember our first kiss as something special. However, at the moment, I don’t think I’m going to be able to recall any of this once the meds wear off. Including this entire conversation.” You looked at him sheepishly.

Rooster shook his head and gave you a teasing half-smile, “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to remind you how much I love you. Tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. Until you never forget it.”

You grinned. “That sounds like a great idea. But you know, I am very forgetful. It might take a long time to get that message to stick.”

Leaning over, Rooster placed a soft kiss on top of your head. “As long as it takes, and for every day after that.”

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winchesterandpie · 2 years ago

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Even if it's a Lie

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

Word Count: 774

Warnings: highly self-indulgent, angst, a bit of comfort

A/N: Thank you so much for all the support on my other fics! I've never had a fic reach 1000 notes before, but you did it with Spotlight!! Seriously, I appreciate you guys so much! Anyways, I was just having fun with this snippet of the night before a mission. Enjoy!

When Bradley came home from base the night before they shipped out, both of you were understandably subdued. You tried to make normal conversation while you made and ate dinner, but now, lying in bed together, you couldn’t bring yourself to pretend anymore.

“What time do you leave tomorrow?”

“I have to leave here at four. Ship leaves at six.” His answers were clipped, but you knew he wasn’t angry.

“I’ll get up with you.” You settled your head more firmly on his chest.

“You’ll be exhausted for work.”

“I don’t care.”

The aviator sighed and pressed a kiss to your head. “Is there anything I can say that won’t make you worry?”

“You know I’ll always worry about you, Roose.”

“I know.”

“I’ll worry until you’re back home safely.” You turned to kiss his chest.

He took your hand, lifting it to his lips before flattening your palm over his heart. He kept his hand on yours and held it there, not that you were keen to move.

You breathed him in, trying not to think about how it might be the last night you had with Bradley. In the silence, you failed to distract the thought. Bradley noticed when a tear slipped free and dropped onto his skin.

“Sweetheart,” he started as he pulled you even closer and pressed his nose into your hair. He didn’t continue. What could he say? So he didn’t and just held you. You felt his breath shudder and curled around him. There was only so much comfort that could be spoken.

Eventually, you forced your breath to slow, propping yourself up on one elbow over him. You moved your other hand to trace the planes of his face, committing his features to memory and brushing away the tear tracks. He watched you with soft eyes and reached up to brush a lock of hair out of your face.

“It won’t be goodbye tomorrow,” you whispered at last, almost afraid to speak the words aloud.

He said your name softly, sounding like his heart was breaking. You knew why. When the two of you became more serious, he had never once lied about the possibility that he might not come home someday. Even if this was when your luck ran out, he knew as well as you did that you would never trade away the time you did get.

“It won’t,” you insisted fiercely. “Even if it takes until the next life for us to be reunited, it won’t be goodbye.”

“No matter what happens, remember that I love you,” he requested quietly, not addressing your statement. “I will always do everything I can to come home to you.”

“I know. I love you too.” You swallowed hard. “Promise me something.”

He hummed, lifting his head to kiss you softly.

“I… I know you can’t promise that you’ll come back, especially from this.” You paused, dropping your forehead to his as you closed your eyes.

“But?” he prompted after a long moment.

“But I need you to promise that you will.” He started to shake his head but you continued anyway. “I need you to promise me you’ll come home. Even if it’s a lie. I just… I just need to hear it. Please.”

You hated how sad his hazel eyes were. He loved what he did--loved the rush of flying, loved how close he felt to his father up in the skies, loved the freedom--but he hated it too. He hated having to leave you, hated the worry he couldn’t assuage before an assignment, hated waking in the tiny ship bunks in the mornings without you. Still, you would never even consider asking him to give it up, no matter how much you worried.

“Please, Bradley.” You asked again when he didn’t reply.

He responded at last, surging up to kiss you fiercely. You responded in kind, drinking him in like you would never see him again. His hand cupped the back of your head, surprisingly gentle as he kept you pinned to him.

“I promise,” he whispered against your lips when you finally had to breathe. “I will come back to you. I will always be right here.” He tapped your chest, over your heart.

“Thank you.”

In the dark of that night, you held onto that promise like you held onto each other. When morning came, you held on even tighter before you both had to let go and he slipped away like sand through your fingers. You watched as he drove away, even after he turned down the street and out of view, and you hoped that his promise wouldn’t be a lie.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years ago

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Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Chapter 3: Mouth Breather

“I’ve been a bad boy, I need a lawyer,” Mia’s head popped up from her trunk. Rooster was a good three beers deep and was wearing a ridiculous American flag shirt.

“Let’s skip to punishment, you can carry this in,” she laughed, handing over a large tray of steak crostini to the pilot.

It was the Fourth of July, and per Bobbi, no one went harder for the Fourth of July than the naval aviators on base. She was hosting a get together in the backyard of her uncle’s house, as Lt. Gen. Bozek was out of town with his wife for the week.

Though judging by the sounds coming from the backyard, the event had eclipsed get together and evolved into full blown party.

“Jesus Christ I’m gonna eat all of these,” He groaned while Mia picked up her large tote and slung it over her shoulder. Donning a simple pair of birksenstock sandals, denim shorts and a white linen button-down over a swim top, she opted to get a patriotic red mani pedi before the party.

“Rooster, how many people are here?” She asked, looking up and down the street of parked cars.

“Only about twenty more than we were planning for… but most will clear out before fireworks.” He laughed, fingers itching to pop the lid off the tray. “You bring a swimsuit?” He asked, to which Mia nodded. “Good,” he grinned.

Mia followed Rooster to the back of the sprawling home where there were 30 or so people milling about the pool, playing yard games and hovering over the food table. The Bozeks had a beautiful home and a well manicured entertainment space in their backyard. Mia felt inspired to buy some patio furniture for her own little deck.

“Mia!” The blonde’s head looked over to see Bobbi and Tina waving her down.

“Roo, be an angel and drop that with the other food?” Mia asked, setting her tote down on an unclaimed pool lounger.

“I’ll leave whatever’s left,” Rooster shrugged, his fingers digging into the tray. Mia popped her sunglasses down over her eyes before walking excitedly over to her two girlfriends.

“Look at you, my lil American honey,” Tina smiled giving Mia a big hug.

“Happy Fourth,” she smiled, giving Bobbi a squeeze as well.

“You can finally meet my husband!” Tina said excitedly – she clearly had also gotten a jump on celebrating. “Baby! Come meet my new hot, single friend!” Tina called loudly, cupping her hands around her mouth to shout across the yard. The announcement turned more than a few hands.

“Tina I swear to God,” Bobbi rolled her eyes as Mia’s cheeks flamed red.

“He’s going to think you’re propositioning me,” Mia laughed, thankful for her oversized sunglasses.

“Wait are we supposed to not proposition you?” Rooster asked, handing Mia a red solo cup. “It’s no French 75 but it’s dry and sweet,” he insisted.

“Thanks, Roo,” Mia smiled.

“Aww, Roo,” Bobbi parroted.

“Mia, this is Robby,” Tina proudly presented her husband, a brunette with a shy smile and retro glasses.

“Hi Robby, it’s great to meet you,” Mia said, shaking his hand.

“Most people call me Bob,” he replied. “Great to finally meet you as well!”

Jake spotted Mia immediately. He was nodding along to a story some Lieutenant was droning on about while he tracked her across the yard in her little denim shorts and what looked like a man’s white button-down shirt. He could tell she was wearing a red bikini top underneath as the fabric of the shirt moved against her body.

“Is that right?” He asked, feigning interest in the story being told, but eyes keenly locked on his little blonde as she spoke animatedly with her hands. He didn’t like how close Rooster was standing to her and the way he kept looking down at her as she spoke. He could probably see right down that top. He could feel the skin on the back of his neck prickle as Bradley slid an arm across her shoulders and squeezed her to his side as they laughed along with the group. His eyes slid, just a moment, to Bobbi, who met his gaze and challenged him with a raised brow. “Lieutenant I’m going to have to stop you, there’s a situation calling for me.” Jake said, not giving the young aviator a look before crossing the lawn.

“He’s so sweet and a cuddler,” Mia gushed, “but he’s a total pillow hog and kept nibbling on my ear,” she elaborated.

“Aw, that’s cute!” Tina pouted, sliding a hand up Bob’s chest.

“You think it’s cute until this man’s breath is exhaling directly into my head – I feel like he’s dusting off my brain,” Mia added, making everyone laugh.

“Who?” Jake asked, not even greeting the group. He could feel his skin getting sticky. He waited too long. He was so stupid. Mia was the catch of the century and he wasn’t aggressive enough – now he lost out to a mouth breather?

“Tiger,” Mia replied.

“His name is Tiger?” Jake asked, feeling like he needed to take a long walk.

“Well, that’s the name the shelter gave him, but I don’t know if I’ll change it,” the petite blonde explained.

Jake took murder off of his to-do list. Bobbi grinned viciously behind her drink and Tina exchanged a look with her husband.

“Y’know what I think would be a great name? Lou,” Bobbi smiled. “Short for Lieutenant Commander,” she added. Mia broke off into a peel of giggles.

“Yes, but then when the Lieutenant Commander and Lou are in the same room, everyone will be confused,” Mia insisted. Jake rolled his eyes so hard he swore he could see gray matter.

“When did you get a cat?” Jake asked, bringing his drink to his mouth. He wasn’t really big on cats, but he could make exceptions.

“Last weekend,” Mia began, “Jack and I ended up at Animal Welfare and he was just looking at me with these big, sad green eyes, I couldn’t just leave him there.” She explained. “Here,” she started, reaching behind her and inadvertently creating space between she and Rooster as she fished her iPhone out of her back pocket. Jake stepped as close as he could over her right shoulder, just enough space to pass a piece of paper between the two of them as she swiped through a few photos.

He was cute – a mostly white little kitten with a swipe of grey across its face. A little half-moustache.

“Takes after his Daddy,” Rooster joked, swiping his fingers across his own moustache. Mia rolled her own eyes with a laugh as a young aviator came by with a tray of jello shots. Mia began to protest but Bobbi quickly shut it down.

“We’re celebrating America, Mia, have some pride!” She laughed, handing out the red, white and blue little cups.

They celebrated America hard – harder than Mia planned on, and an hour later, she was eyeing up the pool like it was the answer to all her problems.

“Come on, Thomas, the water is calling.” Bobbi said, hooking her arms through her friends and heading toward the pool.

“Lemme get some sunblock,” Mia insisted. “I burn easily.”

“Rooster!” Bobbi called out, “Get that big cock over here, we’re playing chicken!”

“Jesus Christ, Bobbi,” Mia laughed skin flushing pink as she stepped out of her shorts and unbuttoned her top. Jake appeared, seemingly from thin air.

“Heard someone called for a big cock,” Rooster arrived, his sunglasses just slightly askew on his face.

“Someone who is not ten drinks deep will be operating the fireworks later, right?” Mia asked.

“Yes,” Jake insisted, his eyes following the spray bottle of sunscreen Mia was guiding up and down her arms, stomach and legs.

“I’ll get you if you get me,” she said, handing him the metal canister and turning her back toward him. Internally, Jake was giddy, but on the outside, he was cool and collected. He carefully covered her back, lifting the ties of her top once.

Bobbi on the other hand, had a bottle of sunscreen lotion that she was currently lathering Rooster in like an unruly toddler.

“Make sure you get my nips, B, they’re at risk,” he insisted. Mia giggled, mostly at Rooster, but also at the tickling sensation of the cool spray against her warm skin.

“Covered,” Jake said, handing over the can to Mia before grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt and peeling it over his head. If Mia were walking, she would have stumbled.

Mia Thomas wasn’t stupid. She knew that aviators had to be in fairly good shape, and clearly Jake was in shape, but wow, his shape.

“Okay, uh, you just hold still here,” she said, shaking the spray can before aiming it up at his shoulders, careful to get the tops before canvassing his back.

“Mia, make sure to get his nips,” Rooster laughed, Bobbi laying on a thick white sheet over his nose. Jake turned, presenting her with his pecs and abs, arms out at his side. She sprayed him down like she was painting the side of the house, with two short blasts to his nipples, making them both laugh. Bobbi and Rooster entered the pool with a splash, waiting moments before she was perched atop his shoulders.

“Come on, Lieutenant Commander,” she said, dropping the can on the pool lounger. “I didn’t come here to lose.” Jake watched, a montage of slow music and light fading in as she stepped down into the pool, lowering herself inch by inch. Smooth skin, a red bikini and sunglasses sitting above her head. He watched her skin pebble as it lowered into the cold water, and he knew he wasn’t the only one watching.

Mia had seen the way Rooster dove under the water to settle Bobbi on top of his shoulders. She turned back to see Jake entering the water and shameless let her eyes drag from the bottom of his ears to the top of his swim shorts. He looked warm in a way that made her want to press her body against his. She racked her brain, wondering if she did a good job shaving her legs last night.

“Tina! Count us down!” Bobbi called.

“One!” Tina called from a lounger. Jake approached Mia from behind, his hands sliding from the small of her back to her hips, gripping her there in a way that made her throb softly.

“Two!”

He flexed, lifting her from the water, grinning at her errant squeal with his display of strength. She settled on his shoulders, her toes just below the water line as he waded further into the pool.

Indulging herself in the slightest, she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Three!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mia exploded in a cacophony of giggles, leaning back against Jake’s chest as Bob burned bright red – Tina going into just a little bit more detail than he was used to when telling the story of when they got rescued from a stuck elevator over the spring.

“So here I am, wiping my mouth as the firefighters are trying to get the doors open with the jaws of life,” she finished, sending Mia into another fit.

She and Jake were puzzle-pieced into a lounger, she between his legs with her button down back on, protecting her from the lower temperature of the night. Jake had one arm back, tucked behind his head and the other resting on her shoulder softly.

With the knowledge that she was no longer fit to drive herself home, she would either crash at the Bozek’s home, or get a ride back to her apartment, but it gave her a little more leeway to enjoy her evening.

“And that’s why we also call Tina, Bob,” Rooster raised his glass, taking what should have been his last pull for the night.

“When are these fireworks starting?” Bobbi asked, wrapping her arms around herself, pre-meditated as a sudden boom lit up the sky. Mia jumped at the noise, alongside everyone else in the backyard, but Jake’s thumb rubbed against the back of her shoulder reassuringly. The display was easily less than a mile away, and there were a few blankets laid out across the backyard as guests watched on.

“Are we allowed to do fireworks this close to base?” Mia asked.

“Special occasion,” Rooster murmured, watching from the corner of his eye as she leaned back against Jake again, pulling the checkered blanket over the both of them.

Mia’s head dropped back against Jake’s shoulder and he nearly had to sit on his hands to keep from dragging his fingers up her throat and cupping her jaw. All he wanted to do was map her body with this touch. Even now, the scent of her skin mixed with the pool’s chlorine was setting him on high alert. He really needed his dick to get with the program because she was pressed tightly against him and he wasn’t going to ruin this for himself.

Mia’s eyes drooped closed momentarily as she reveled in Jake’s warmth, the fuzzy feeling her brain was experiencing and the contented feeling of finding a good group of friends. It was more than she ever expected to find in Miramar.

She wasn’t going to do anything to mess this up. Even if Jake’s skin felt especially nice against hers. She’d chalk it up to the drinks.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x ofc #jake hangman x you #jake hangman fic #tgm #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin is a simp #jake seresin fluff

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moondancediner · 2 years ago

Text

daydreaming - ii

summary: Tess tries to figure out what Rooster wants from her. It doesn't end well.

bradley bradshaw x tess mitchell

word count: 5k

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst (happy ending in pt 3 i promise), small age gap (about 3 years), alcohol, daddy issues, best friends to lovers and it's very complicated.

a/n: once again, i was sure this was only going to be two parts and now it's three. so.... sorry?

i debated talking about Tess's mom in this fic and decided against it cause it doesn't add or take anything away from the story. i just imagine Carole took her under her wing after she found out and the two of them kept Bradley and Tess close so they would always have some sort of family around.

italics are flashbacks, regular text is about one year after the mission

part ii is brought to you by Coca-Cola, Shania Twain, and ABBA

Also, lmk if you caught the New Girl reference

masterlist || pt.I || pt.III

Tess’s feet pounded heavily on the sidewalk by the time she reached the Hard Deck. Penny’s house wasn’t far from her bar and Tess’s head had been a mess for nearly a week, spinning out of control since the second she laid eyes on Bradley. She cleaned her room, bathroom, kitchen, and Amelia’s room all before noon and still, there was no reprieve from the tsunami that her mind had become.

Months ago, she’d read in a blog post about connecting mental and physical health - its clever title Running From Your Brain: All the way you can connect your body and mind was what drew her in - that running was a great way to clear one’s mind, so, after digging through still unpacked boxes and every closet in Penny’s modest home, she laced up her dusty sneakers and headed out into the early California afternoon, hell-bent on calming the raging storm.

Moments after the initial high wore off and her lungs started fighting that burn from rough breaths, it seemed like it was going to work, like the Bradley shaped shadow that was following her around had finally subsided. It was only her, the sun, and the pavement beneath her cushioned toes. The pain of her breath washed away any other thought, because how could you think of anything else when your entire body was screaming at you to just stop. Tess always relished in this sort of feeling, she loved being able to feel the muscles in her body change and shape themselves anew, molding themselves into what was needed to complete the task.

Bradley always teased her about never becoming a pilot, and he would tell anyone that would listen that she had a preternatural sense up in the air. ‘It’s scary how much of a natural she is’, he would always say.

Tess didn’t know if it was just pure genetics, or if it had something to do with the fact that she took her first ride in the cockpit of an F-14 when she was just five years old. Her mom had nearly lost her head when Tess came home that night and immediately started sharing all about how daddy had taken her up in his plane. Pete let her sit right up in the front with him, she was so tiny he was able to buckle her into his seat with him, and he was confident in his ability to keep her safe - it was just a short fly around the island after all.

Tess wasn’t allowed inside a plane again until she was twelve.

Then Mav taught her to fly his Mustang when she was sixteen, a month before she got her driver's permit - he insisted she learn to fly before she learned to drive. She was a natural, and Tess would never forget that first time she snuck out of the house and into Bradley’s Bronco, nearly getting caught by Ms. Henderson’s yappy chihuahua, the two of them a giggling mess all the way to the runway. He snuck them through security and she got them into the air before anyone caught them. The sound of his silence and awe was something she still dreamt of.

She expected someone to be waiting for them once they landed, expected a good, stern talking to about how dangerous it is to steal a plane and fly without any kind of clear pattern. But only Maverick was waiting when they touched down, arms crossed over his jacketed chest, fighting a smile as Bradley and his daughter walked sheepishly toward him.

The one thing Pete was sure to never forget was how Bradley reached out his hand and grabbed Tess’s, putting himself in the line of fire, fully ready to take any and all blame for the night’s activities. Pete could only point to the exit, following them on his motorcycle all the way to Tess’s house, making sure she was inside before he cruised away.

None of them brought it up again.

Tess let out a small curse as the ball of yarn that had become her mind once again became unraveled. The image of Bradley sitting outside her childhood home pulling at all the loose ends.

Tess and Bradley avoided any serious conversation about their relationship like the plague. For years and years it was just something fun while they were together, something simple, and Tess liked to think they remained best friends for all of these years because of it.

But suddenly, it was holding hands out in public, kissing in front of anyone and everyone, a hand always somewhere on her body, as if he needed to be grounded by her. He was with her every second he wasn’t training, searching her out, spending hours sitting at the bar while she worked, sneaking into Penny’s house in the dead of night because he couldn’t sleep without her. Small, absentminded things that were never there before but Bradley acted as if they had always been like this. Like it had always been so easy.

It made Tess want to vomit.

All those years pining after him, waiting for him to just notice that she was so deeply in love with him, waiting for him to stop running away from her for just a second long enough to see her see them see the good in staying.

Tess knew how much he loved his job, how much he loved flying and she would never fault him for that, but he was so scared of leaving someone the way Goose left Carole.

The way Goose left him.

So what was different now? What was so different about this mission that had him clinging to her every night, every second he was around?

And why was she getting her damn hopes up?

But by the end of the run that was supposed to help clear her mind Tess felt no relief and instead had one extra question buzzing around her brain.

Who the fuck runs for fun?

She pushed the wooden doors open, knowing Penny would be in there doing her usual daily bookkeeping, and promptly fell to the ground, something she wouldn't dream of doing on any other day had she not cleaned said floors the night before. There was nothing quite like scrubbing a sticky floor for hours to distract from the chaos of life.

“Fuck. Running,” she managed to get out between labored breaths. Amelia appeared above her, lights casting an angelic glow around her head, and handed her a glass of water. “You’re an angel.”

Amelia just laughed and walked back over to her spot at the bar. “You’re welcome. Mom’s in the office if you’re looking for her.”

Tess sat up to take a sip, eyes blurring for a moment at the sudden movement, before focusing on the back door, and the ocean that waited just outside, which she was sure could cool her off much faster than the small glass in her sweaty hands. So she stood, dusted invisible dirt off her running shorts and placed the glass on the countertop as she walked by, making sure to ruffle Amelia’s hair as she passed, just for good measure.

“Tell you mom I’m good to close tonight when she comes back out.” Tess popped her shoes off when she got to the back door, briefly hoping that they and her socks wouldn’t stink up the place while she took a quick dip, “and can you grab me a towel from the closet? I’m going to go jump in the ocean to cool off.”

“Enjoy the view,” was all Amelia said, waving a hand without turning around, head buried in some textbook.

Tess was only mildly confused about that statement until her eyes adjusted to the bright sun and she was met with a team of abs and wet, sweaty sun-skin that had her jaw dropping in utter surprise. The team of aviators playing right where the water was cresting the sand didn’t notice her walking towards them, and she was thankful for the couple minutes she got to just stand and watch them play some strange version of football, sure it was something Maverick cooked up.

She spotted Bradley quickly, picking his tall, golden haired head out from the crowd while she slowly meandered down the sand and laughed as he scored a touchdown, chest bumping his teammate while Hondo blew his whistle and Tess’s mind was once again an ocean of questions she had no answers to.

And Tess had never been happier. Or more terrified.

The worry that pelted her chest every time she thought about this mission left her gasping for breath in the middle of the night. Bradley and Maverick refused to tell her more than the sheer basics and it had her laying in bed every night for the past week staring at the ceiling while the fan made slow rotations above her, memorizing the feel of Roosters muscled shoulders under her arms, fingers tracing lines across his back while his sleeping head rested on her chest.

Maverick spotted her after another play and ran up the beach to where he had a chair and towel set up, almost as if he knew she would show up (or maybe it was just a spot for the old man to rest when the young ones wore him down), abandoning his team in favor of sitting with her. They protested - loudly - but he waved them off without a second glance.

“Hey kid,”

“Hey, Mav,”

He reacted as if he’d just been punched in the gut, and Tess tried not to let it affect her. She’d kept him at an arms distance since he came back - it was just another tidal wave of questions she knew she wouldn’t get answers to. She was used to him disappearing for periods of time, that was par for the course with a father like hers, but it was always accompanied by a note, a text, a call, a damned email even. This time he was just gone. No calls, no communication at all. And Tess was at her end with him.

She still remembered the first time he left, still felt the sting that everyone else’s dad’s and mom’s and whoever lived with them all the time - were there for them. That even the ones whose parents were separated still had two homes to go to. Tess had one home - a good home - but her dad never had a home base. He was constantly switching, moving around from place to place, and it seemed like he was always gone and out of her small reach. On a boat in the middle of some ocean where contact was impossible. Even the other girl in her class - Jessica P, the name still made Tess want to roll her eyes - whose mom was in the Army, got to exchange letters while she was gone, or make phone calls and send pictures, something Jessica never let anyone forget.

On show and tell days she would bring in those letters and pictures from far away places, and then rub it in Tess’s face that she never got anything of the sort from her dad, even though Tess was absolutely sure - even at eight years old - that her dad’s job was way cooler than anything Jessica’s mom was doing, or would ever do.

She would always come home crying on those days, and Rooster - he was still just Bradley back then - would find her after a couple minutes, when she didn’t show up in his backyard like she always did after school, and hold her and tell her that her dad’s job was way cooler, and that Jessica P must be the dumbest person in the whole elementary school. And it always made Tess laugh, and even though they never really talked about their dads because it always made Bradley so sad, he would talk about all the cool things the pilots did, and he would make up stories about all the crazy things their dad’s got up to in the air.

And that was her dad. Tess got used to him not being around, got used to him showing up out of the blue, to her being shipped off to visit him whenever he had a spare moment. She knew that he loved her, knew that he wanted to be there for all the milestones, but something in him kept him away, kept him pushing towards the job in front of him. Kept him running away.

And just when she got used to him not being around, the constant ache of not having him around, Bradley joined the Navy.

“Have a nice run?” He teased, taking in her disheveled state, though the mischief in his words never quite reached his eyes.

“Fuck no, it’s so humid it felt like I was inhaling water every time I took a breath,” she laughed with him, coming to stand next to the chair he sat down in, hands on her hips while she observed their game, “what are they playing?”

“Dog fight football,” he told her, smiling at his invention, “gotta play offense and defense at the same time… You should join them, take my spot.”

“Ha, yeah right, I came out here to cool off not get even sweatier,” and she tried to calculate how quickly it would take her to run into the water before she was caught, but her odds didn’t look promising with that giant wall of aviators in her way. So, she watched Bradley again, having the time of his life with his old and new friends and her gut twisted again. “How bad is this mission?”

“Well, if everything goes to plan, not bad at all,”

And if that was supposed to make her feel better, it sure didn’t.

“So… you and Bradley?” He asked tentatively, like if he pried too hard she would come crumbling down.

“Yeah, I guess” Tess said in a huff of air, unable to help the smile that graced her lips.

“When did that happen?”

She shrugged. “I guess it’s always kinda been there.”

“Tess,” the tone of his voice made her want to run, sprint as far from him as possible because it sounded sad and like a warning and like he was about to say something she didn’t want to hear, sounded like he was about to tell her it wasn’t a good idea. To stay away from him because it wasn’t going to end in sunshine and rainbows.

But to stay away from Bradley Bradshaw would be like trying to breathe underwater.

“Sweetheart-”

“Hotshot!” Hangman spotted her before Maverick could say what he wanted to say, and Tess was thanking whoever for the perfectly timed interruption. “Get your ass over here!” His yelling alerted the rest of the crowd and then Rooster’s eyes were on her and she barely had time to get out a short string of curses before he was sprinting up the beach for her.

“Bradley! Don’t you dare!” She held out a hand and when that didn’t slow him in the slightest she turned tail and ran. Tess sprinted towards an unclear direction, looking back every couple seconds to see him getting closer and closer and she couldn’t help the screams and laughs that escaped her while he chased her.

He caught up quicker than she anticipated, arms coming around her waist and she was both surprised and impressed that they didn’t immediately topple into the sand. Instead, he spun her around and then repositioned an arm so it was under her legs to carry her bridal style over to the waiting group.

“Ew T, you’re so sweaty,” he commented when she brought her hands up around his neck to stabilize herself, but the smile on his face betrayed his words, and him lifting her slightly to place a kiss so sweet and gentle it had her toes curling, negated his words completely.

“You’re one to talk Bradshaw, I’m practically slipping off of you right now,” she laughed against his lips. And what a slip it would be, she thought, his taught, rock-hard abs under her body.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” his efforts earned him a laugh so full of sunshine, her head chucked back into the light, his whole body warmed.

He only put her down once they reached the group of pilots, all yelling and cheering that she was joining the game, and once she was on her feet again, Tess ran over to give Phoenix a hug while Rooster was yelling for a time-out to the other team.

Tess made sure to send a look over to Hangman, two fingers coming to squinted eyes before she pointed at him, making sure he knew she was coming for him and he smiled motioning for her to come and get it.

They had a funny relationship, her and Jake. He had an ‘I’m the best and I know it’ attitude that never quit, but she saw through his facade the second they met. He flirted with her and she flirted right back, but she put him in his place so fast his world shifted on its axis and ever since they’ve developed a teasing friendship. Hangman knew he could let her have it cause he knew she’d give it right back to him. And Jake knew from the second Bradshaw’s eye’s landed on her, that she was completely off limits.

“All right, I’m quarterback-“

“Of course,” Tess interrupted Bradley, rolling her eyes at his macho display. The rest of their team tried and failed to hide their laughs throughout the small huddle that they now formed.

“Oh, alright Hotshot, tell me how you want it then,” his voice was rough as gravel and she hoped that the sun blocked the fact that she was turning bright red. It didn’t, and Rooster made a note to tuck that line away for later.

“You can still be quarterback, I’m gonna be your running back,” she pointed to her chest and then around to the group, assigning everyone their positions one by one until she got back to Bradley, “I’m gonna run up the left side, Nat you go right and try to distract Hangman. From what I’ve seen he more often than not leaves his left side completely open and just has Coyote hanging out back there. Now, I’m way faster than Coyote so, B, as soon as Hangman lets go of the ball, you throw it to me and I’ll be home free.”

Tess had never seen a group of Naval Aviators so quiet before.

“Holy shit, I’m so in love with you,”

Her heart might as well have been a puddle of pink heart shaped goo. A blind man seeing the sunshine for the first time couldn’t hold a candle to him at that moment. And Tess could only stare back, everything she was about to say taking an escape route from her open mouth.

She tried not to let everyone around them know that this was the first time he had ever said anything like this to her. She loved Bradley, had been in love with him for as long as she could remember. But Bradley Bradshaw didn’t love like that. His dad died before he was five years old, Maverick crushed his dreams, ripped the carpet out from under his feet and delayed his dream career, his mom died too young and he was not going to put someone else through that pain or loss that he’d been through his entire life.

It was different than saying I love you - they said that all the time. He said he was in love with her.

Thirty years of waiting and Tess was hoping for something a little more romantic, but fuck if that wasn’t the most Rooster way to do things. Flying by the seat of his fucking pants.

“Shit, I think I might be in love with you too,” Phoenix said with a laugh, breaking the silence that still fell over the group. Everyone laughed along with her and started getting hyped up, patting each other on the backs and chest bumping their way over to their new positions.

Tess could only look at Bradley and try to decipher that look behind his sunglasses. He trailed her all the way to her starting position, right behind him, and didn’t turn around until Fanboy was calling for his attention. Everything about his expression was unreadable.

Life moved in slow motion until the hike, until Fanboy released the ball to Bradley and she took off running straight for Jake. Hangman’s ego played into her plan perfectly, he held onto the ball until she was close enough to touch him, and as soon as the football left his fingertips she turned, catching Rooster’s throw to her chest and dodged Coyote’s outstretched arms all the way to the endzone. Or, wherever Hondo decided the endzone was.

Tess threw the foam ball into the sand while Hondo blew his whistle and then turned around to rub it in Hangman’s face that she bested the bastard, but her celebratory dance (which may or may not have included a tongue and fingers pressed to her forehead in the shape of an L) was cut short when Rooster ran up to her. His arms wrapped around the bottom of her thighs and he hoisted her up to the sky.

He spun her around, once, twice, and then set her down in the sand.

Tess looked up at him, that darkness taking over her green orbs, sucking the sunshine out of his chest as she turned and walked away from him.

Bradley stared for a moment, watched her walk away, watched her run her hands up and over her face into her ponytailed hair, watched her shake out her hands, wondered if he actually saw a slight tremble through her fingers or if that was just his imagination playing games with his head.

He didn’t bother explaining to the group when his feet finally caught up to the rest of his body and he took off down the beach after her.

He reached out a hand to her, landing on her upper arm that she brushed off quickly, like he’d just electrocuted her. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t you dare.” She turned, a pointed finger coming up to tell him to keep his distance, or else, and he looked to her face, to the tears streaming down her cheeks.

He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her cry.

Other than his mom’s funeral, where even there she only shed a few tears when everyone had gone and left.

No, this was a rare side of Tess that even he rarely got to see.

“God!” She yelled, bringing her balled up fists to her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“Honey, I don’t-”

“Bradley!”

His spine snapped straight. As rare as it was to see her cry, it was just as rare that they used each other’s first names. Neither of them really knew how it started, but as kids they came up with so many different and funny nicknames for each other that it started to feel weird to say the other’s given name out loud. And her voice when she said it… it sent ice cracking down his veins.

He stared at her again, sure that any words that came out of his mouth right now would be the wrong ones, that his words would only unleash the angry beast that hid behind her eyes.

After too long of a pause, she finally whispered out, “what do you want from me?” and Bradley swore he felt his heart crack in his chest.

Tess couldn’t take it anymore. Her own heart felt foreign in its place, like it was someone else’s, like it didn’t fit in its spot anymore. Like it didn’t belong there.

The question danced on his tongue: “what are you talking about?” but he stopped himself before he could ask it. Because he knew what she was asking, what she needed him to say, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to say it. To do it. To finally put his money where his mouth was.

He just confessed that he was in love with his best friend and he couldn’t bring himself to finish the job. Snug on that perch. Same old Rooster.

They stared in silence again and when it became too much, when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to hear what she needed to hear she finally said what she’d been holding back all this time.

“You’re a coward.” Her head shook as she said it, bottom lip trembling while she blinked the tears that crested her eyes back into her head. And when he continued to say nothing she turned and walked away. Headed for the Hard Deck and for once in her life, hoped that he wouldn’t follow.

He didn’t.

Bradley begrudgingly followed Tess back to their group of friends that had now completely taken over the back of the bar, fingers lazily curled around hers while she led him through the crowd, past Hangman who was showing off to some girl at the dart board, past Coyote holding his hand over his eyes, much like that first night they’d all arrived in Miramar. Phoenix and Bob still played pool at the blue table, though it seemed that more socializing was happening than any actual game.

Tess smiled and danced her way over, head bobbing to the music coming out of the old jukebox, giving a little shoulder shimmy as she made eye contact with Halo across the room, singing the words to her friend.

It was part of her birthday surprise, having absolutely anyone and everyone he could manage to get a hold of back in this bar, where she met most of them for the first time. He even managed to get old friends from their school days crammed into the tight space. The smile on her face had been well worth the weeks of headaches, scheduling, and secrets.

Bradley pulled her closer, lifting their joined hands up for her to spin under, which she did easily, hand landing gently on his exposed wife beater, green eyes just as gentle on his face. His free hand fell gently into place on her lower back, keeping her hips close to him.

“Having a good time?” He asked, swaying her slightly to the gentler song that now played.

“The best. Thank you.”

Her lips pursed and he leaned down to place a sweet kiss onto them. Even after all this time, every time he kissed her it still felt like the first. Like that late summer in his Bronco, right before her senior year, right as he was about to leave for flight school and she had done nothing but complain all summer about how she still hadn’t had her first kiss yet. So he did the only thing he could think to do, he grabbed her face - probably a bit too rough, but she was starting to grind at his nerves - and he kissed her like he’d never kissed anyone before.

And Tess would never tell anyone this, but she never wanted to be kissed by anyone else ever again. Every first kiss after that was a pale gray sky compared to the searing fireworks of colors that erupted over her body that night sitting outside her house while the sun set in front of them.

“Anything for my girl,” he said against her lips once he pulled away.

“Hotshot!” Jake called, interrupting Bradley’s mission to get her out of this bar as quickly as possible. “Come get your ass kicked!”

Tess looked over to see him waving her to the darts board. They had a running competition going. She was up by one game and there was no way Jake Seresin was leaving California again before that changed.

“One of these days,” Rooster mumbled, pressing his lips to hers a few more times, not quite ready to let her move away from him.

Tess laughed. “He’s so good at interrupting us.”

She pulled away, dropping from the tips of her toes she needed to stand on to reach his face, and grabbed the beer from the hand that wasn’t on her, taking a swig.

“It’s like a radar goes off in his little pea brain.” He grumbled, and Tess let out a laugh he wanted to get tattooed on his heart.

“I better go before he causes a scene,” she said without moving her feet, as if she was waiting for any excuse not to go. “Try not to miss me too much,” she winked and walked off, his beer still in her hand.

Rooster watched her walk away, hips swaying in a way he knew was meant just for him, and it wasn’t until she reached Jake that he realized she stole his drink. He laughed, shaking his head at his wife who was now shit talking with Hangman and Coyote, the former's conquest of the night long gone and forgotten. The word - wife - still felt fresh in his mind almost a year later. The day he asked her to marry him played like a movie every time he saw her.

“Did I ever tell you,” Maverick said, appearing to Rooster’s left, “what she made me promise right before the Uranium mission?”

He looked down at Mav, who’s eyes didn’t stray from his daughter from the moment he walked through the doors.

“No, I don’t think you did,”

---

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