#hi mav you already know this is for you anyways

[filobooster]

besties

[malkaviian]

im home earlier than i thought

[honeyhenry]

Apple Pie and You and I: A Very Happy Seresin

Ignore the fact it has been over a year since the last instalment...I would offer my life story but it has been HECTIC. Anyways, I have never ceased to think of Dad-to-be!Jake Seresin and since it is now the summer holidays, my gift to you is this lovely part 4 of the APAYAI series!

In the calm haze of what surely would be a sweet summer, you found rest in the peace held within the mid-June evening. Jake would return shortly from his quick job out by Mav's old place, helping Rooster refurbish the old skyline beauty Maverick hadn't had the time for lately. A whole stack of them had taken their turn, and while Jake remained a reliable friend now in the squad, he had really fought it internally, not wishing to leave your side.

Not when he could be snuggled up to his wife, on the porch or resting on the sofa, smelling the strawberry shampoo from your hair, or your shea butter moisturiser. Nor could he kiss you as and when he liked from 4.30pm, the second he got home from work, all the way to bedtime and then again in the morning before you both headed off - him to base, and you to your kindergarten class.

No, he wasn't going to be home until closer to 9 - almost 30 minutes away yet - and the worst part was, he was missing more than just you these days. The swell that continued to grow once you'd left Texas had become his new obsession - the slice of heaven that he already adored because they were going to be just like you, and make you look like the sweetest, hottest little thing this side of the States.

Resting quietly on the sofa, you await his return, knowing he'll ache and sweat and smell on his return - you can't wait to soak him all in and show him the newest development. You swear this baby grows dramatically overnight, a claim you state often whilst Jake just smirks because it's his big Seresin baby that he personally delivered, that grows and nestles inside you.

Your living area is lit by a chamomile candle and a yellow lamp that envelopes the room into a warm glow. The scattered pillows across the sofa and rug are perfect to relax on, and your most recent book "Parenting 101" swapped out for Cosmo magazine led to an idyllic evening. A small cup of tea and the night had gone perfectly.

Sooner than expected, you hear Jake's truck pull up into the driveway. Instead of standing to check and then unlock the door, you wait. Jake much prefers you to stay safely in the house, always alerting you if he has arrived - that you shouldnt be moving a muscle if you can help it. 8.36pm - he's early.

"Lovebug? It's me, I'm home!" he hollers into the foyer of the house, his deep voice carrying through to the living room. Pressing your soft bunny slippers to the floor, you call back.

"In the living room, honey!"

You hear footsteps and then a moment later, there he is, basking in the glow of the lamp above you. Or is it sweat? You can't decide for sure, taken aback by the mixed smells of oil and sweat.

"Hey baby," he finds your lips, leaning over the sofa to not get it marked, "and hey little baby." You smile as he extends a warm hand down to your stomach, smiling softly as he soaks in the moment.

"How was work? And Mav's?"

"Fine, fine. Got a bunch of stuff fixed in the back, Bradshaw got covered in grease and oil so if you see him with a black moustache, you'll know why."

You giggle as he stretches and then quirks a brow. "More importantly, how are you? How is peanut treating you? Being a good and upstanding citizen?"

"I think they grew again overnight. Or through the day, really since breakfast - although it might just be breakfast and my other meals.

"Yeah? Lemme see" he pulls you up carefully and you stand, moving past the plethora of pillows you had build a comfortable place to sit. He smooths his hand down his own shorts first, hoping it would be clean enough, before undoing a little clasp of your pyjama shirt to gain access to your stomach. His hand, warm and firm, rests atop your belly and you can't quite tell if its just butterflies, or that the baby is starting to move within you.

"Oh yeah, i feel it." he rubs softly still. "They're certainly growin'. Good job peanut" he speaks in high praise "and good job Momma...makin' us a baby..."

You have a quick kiss before you usher him upstairs to shower, and you turn the lights off, blow the candle out, and head upstairs to bed. You have your routine set - facial moisturiser, nightly stretches, a warm cup of tea, and belly rubs with your new balm.

You are finishing up your routine, rubbing small shapes into your belly as the smell of coconut fills the room. Jake adores watching you, from the doorway of the en suite. You sit back a little, scooping the balm onto your palm before ever so carefully applying it in small circles, then larger, deeper strokes while still taking tender care of your body. His favourite part has to be when you start whispering sweet words to your belly, realising you aren't alone in this routine. He's caught you a handle of times with; "We love you so much"; "Have you had a nice day in there, hm?" and tonight is no different.

"You're gonna be nice and relaxed in there hm? Me and daddy love you little baby pie. Could just eat you up..."

Moving from the door, he speaks up, hoping to not jolt or surprise you too much.

"Hey, don't go eating up my legacy now"

You giggle, a sound he knows will only ever be beaten by his child's first cry, before halting your laughter at the mere sight of him.

Leaning against the doorway, dripping wet, with a towel barely clinging around his waist. It would be a lie to say that your husband had never looked so good, because this was his standard. Anything he set his mind to, he would accomplish. It just so happened that having a body to die for was the collateral. And here he was, gazing into your soul, heart soaring while watching you treasure and love upon his biggest achievement yet.

"Don't you worry an inch Lieutenant. But I just know they are the cutest, I mean look!" you gesture to his side of the bed. All that sits there is his watch, his alarm clock, and a framed picture of the sweet blob sonogram. "You agree!"

"Yes honey, they're cute I know. Cause they're half you. The other half? Well they'll be the best Top Gun 2050 graduate if they get anything from their Pops."

"You know what, I want them to be all of you."

"Oh really?" Jake shucks off the towel before grabbing his pyjama shorts, grinning cockily as he stretches and flexes, much to your amusement. "I mean I get it, who wouldn't wanna go for a dip in this gene pool?"

"I'm serious, you goof! I have dreams, and the baby...they have your eyes, and that one little dimple like you have your cheek, and, and I don't know. I feel, when I feel the baby, that they're just like you. They feel like home. And-"

You're halted by his physique pressing up beside you, kissing you as if he'd been on an infinite deployment and that holding you was the only sure sign that he was really back home; alive, safe, loved.

"You make me the happiest man alive. You both do. Now, lemme check the house and I'll be right back to hear more about these dreams you're having about me." He winks and you groan, knowing your confession will fuel his ego that little bit more.

As he heads downstairs, you begin massaging your belly again before crying out;

"Oh, Jake!"

You hear the clatter of the teacup he'd taken downstairs, and 5 loud thumping footsteps before he reappears at the door.

"What?!"

With big doe eyes, you smile sheepishly.

"I forgot to tell you, the baby is the size of an apple today."

Jake's expression shifts from one of panic, to utter relief. His chest visibly drops and he runs a hand through his drying hair.

"Baby....don't do that...y'just scared me to death. I'll be right back and then y'can tell me all about it."

On his return from locking up, checking the lights and ensuring he had his uniform laid out for the next day, Jake quietly moved into the bedroom and clicked the door shut. In one hand, he had a glass of water - one you'd never ask for but he knows you'd need through the night. In the other, is a thick, wooden book covered in a multitude of colours and shapes.

You quirk an eyebrow, curious about whatever Jake was holding.

"No Aviator's Digest or Fatherhood 101 tonight?"

"Actually, Bradley gave me this, wanted us to have it at least for now. Something' bout reading to the baby. Then they know my voice... if I'm away." Jake looks down at the book as he shuffles into bed, doing his best not to disturb how comfortable you have made yourself during your nightly routine.

You know that being away now means a great deal more to Jake than before. The issue is sensitive, of course. He doesn't want to be an absent father in the way deployments and time on base can project. You haven't spoken about it too much, but you know it will bother him. Simultaneously, giving up the job he has worked so hard for to be more present is a big sacrifice. One that would also be financially risky to your growing family.

Instead of diving deeper, you keep it light. Jake has no plans to go anywhere anytime soon, or even for very long. It's best to focus on what you can control.

"Oh? What book is it?"

"Something about a hungry caterpillar. Looks a bit demonic on the front, but Bradshaw swore his cousin's kids loved it."

He rests up against the headboard, curling one arm around your shoulders, intertwining his hand with yours atop your belly. Certain that he has you safe and warm in his arms, he unpops your shirt again at your tummy "so they can hear" which has you rolling your eyes. He holds the book right by your belly, and begins.

"Good evening, baby Seresin. This is your father, your Pops. Now you gotta listen - there's a test at the end of this story and we don't tolerate anything but top marks here."

"Jacob Seresin!"

"All right, all right. Now, are we ready? Then let's begin. In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning..."

By the time he had turned to the middle page after his soft southern drawl had recounted a feast of apples, pears, and plums, you - and baby - were fast asleep. Closing the wooden book, he pops the button back into place carefully, sorts your pillows, and turns off your bedside lamp.

He'd finish the story tomorrow evening.

[sunlightmurdock]

Mav’s daughter and Bradley trying to keep quiet in the room next door to him😳

THIS ONE IS SO LONG SHIT

Mav having all of his buddies over for a football night, it’s a big group of guys all hanging out in the living room, talking about guy stuff. When you get back from drinks with your friends early, you usually would’ve walked right past them and headed to your room. But, your eyes lock with Bradley Bradshaw’s — and seeing as he has already been screwing your brains out every chance that he has gotten for the past few months, your mind is swiftly changed.

He’s already looking over the short dress you had worn out as he lowers his beer away from his lips, his face growing serious as you drop your keys into the bowl by the door and stride confidently over.

“Hi, boys.” You smile, dropping down onto the couch between Bradley and a much older aviator — you can’t remember all of their call signs, that’s too much work. Maverick looks up from the screen and offers you a smile.

“Hey. How was Corrine’s birthday?” Maverick asks, his attention back on the game before he’s even done speaking. Bradley stares at the screen as the smell of your perfume fills his senses and makes his jeans just a smidge less comfortable.

“Corey’s. She got shitfaced and we had to take her home and put her to bed. Lucy’s staying with her.” You explain calmly, reaching out and curling your fingers around Bradley’s beer bottle. He releases it into your hand without protest, not able to stand the thought of your dad seeing you touching him.

You bring the bottle to your mouth and take a drink, humming contentedly as you pass the bottle back to him.

“That sounds like a good time.” Maverick mumbles, brows knitting together as yet another pass is fumbled by his team. Bradley glances down at you. You’re glaring across at Maverick. He knows you hate it when Mav pretends he’s listening to you.

You push yourself up from the couch and Bradley realises just how short your dress is as you have to adjust it.

“Alright, well, I’m just going to hit the hay,” You decide, knowing that Bradley’s the only person in this room listening to you. You lift your arms and stretch them up over your head. “Night, everybody.”

“G’night, kiddo.” Maverick waves you off absently. Bradley feels his throat tighten as he cranes his neck to watch you head towards the stairs. It’s been exactly six days since he was inside you last, and god, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

His eyes are trained in on you as you walk over to a purse that you had discarded on the stairs and bend down to dig through it. The dress does exactly what you want it to do, riding up just slightly and giving him the perfect view of the black panties between your legs.

And then, you disappear up the stairs. Bradley lifts the beer to his mouth and gulps down a quick drink. He knows you want him to follow you. He wants to. But there are like twelve guys in this house, all of whom are his coworkers and one of whom is your dad. He does his best to sit and focus on the game.

But he knows you’re up there waiting for him and he knows exactly which pair of panties you’re wearing, and it turns out that he’s a weaker man than he thought he was. Well, when it comes to you anyway.

He doesn’t even have to excuse himself, they’re all so focused on the score. He walks silently upstairs, crossing the hall and wrapping his fingers around your door handle. He already knows which room is yours, he has been here before.

He twists the handle and opens it, exhaling softly as he finds you out of the dress already and wearing his t-shirt. You’re laying back on your bed with your fingers dipped between your legs, your lip between your teeth.

Smiling, you take a second just to look him over. Just as handsome as when you had first seen him. Wearing a fitted black tee with his dog tags just visible under the collar, and a pair of faded blue jeans, his curls fixed. You press your thighs together and withdraw your hand from your underwear.

He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, crossing the room to press one knee down onto your bed and cover your body with his. He kisses your mouth deeply, fingers plucking softly at his t-shirt as it sits loosely over your body. “I thought I told you not to wear this around here.”

It’s got his squadron on it. Mav would know who’s it is in a heartbeat.

“Are you scared of my dad seeing it?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to be up here right now.” He tells you calmly, between deeper and deeper kisses. His big hands grab at your knees and part them easily, letting him settle between your thighs.

No, he’s not afraid of your father. He’s afraid of not seeing you again if Mav does find out. He’s afraid of the way that he feels about you now. He’s afraid of the fact that he couldn’t even make himself stay downstairs and just watch the game.

Bradley’s thick hands shove at the t-shirt, pulling it up and over your head. Downstairs, there’s a roar of cheers. Using the sudden volume to his advantage, he nudges your panties to the side and presses a finger into you, curling it expertly and making you jolt.

“Fuck.” You pant out against his lips. He groans softly as you push your hand between your grinding bodies and palm him over his jeans. “More.”

“You’ll take what I give you.” Rooster tells you firmly, feeling you clench around his finger response. He pulls back to look you in the eye. “Cute dress that you wore out tonight. I’ll bet the guys loved it.”

“They did.” You tease him, gasping as he pumps a second finger into you, curling them routinely and making your stomach tighten. “But I just want you. Only you, Rooster.”

He groans softly, lowering his mouth to adorn your chest with filthy, open-mouthed kisses. He knows that. He knows how badly you want him. He’s got the nudes on his phone, and your clothes at his place to prove it. But he loves how desperate you are for him. The way you stare at him across the room, or dangle off of his arm when he’s not paying you enough attention.

The way you’re looking up at him now.

Fuck, he adores it. It’s right as you’re about to cum on his fingers that he slaps a hand over your mouth. He knows by now that you couldn’t keep quiet if your life depended on it. Even with his thick palm covering your jaw, your sound is muffled but desperate as you push your heels into your sheets.

He checks his watch as you’re unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans down. “Fuck,” He pants out as you’re taking him into your mouth. “Baby, it’s almost half-time. We’ve gotta — shit — we’ve gotta be quiet.”

You hum around him compliantly, but both of you know that it’s quite simply not going to be that easy. Plus, you’ve had to hide from Mav for long enough now that you really couldn’t care less by this point.

Bradley plants you on your back, both of you sighing in relief as he finally presses into you until your hips are flush to his. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, his dog tags resting against your chin.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby girl.” Bradley whispers, his brown eyes looking just so endless when he’s up this close. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, trailing your fingertips along the muscles in his back. Bradley swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he looks down between your body and his. “I missed you. So much.”

You hum eagerly, lifting your mouth to pepper kisses along this thick throat. “Missed you too. Can’t believe you made me wait so long.”

“I know,” He groans softly as he starts to rock his hips, his bicep flexing as his fist balls into the soft florals adorning the pillow behind your head. “You were so good, waiting for me. We’ve gotta be quiet now, but I’m gonna make it up to you. Alright, baby? — How’s that sound?”

You giggle softly as he kisses your temple, the sound interrupted by a sharp moan as his cock hits something sensitive deep inside you.

“Shit.” Bradley pants out, brows drawing together as he pulls back to shake his head, still fucking into you slowly. “Shh, shh, shh. Here.”

He presses two digits into your mouth at once, his eyes practically rolling back in his head at the feeling of your tight pussy and warm mouth around him at once. His digits press at the back of your throat as he starts to pick up the pace, your moans muffled around them.

Then, when he’s got your knees pinned back against your chest and needs his hands free again, you turn your face into the crook of his neck, grabbing onto his broad shoulders desperately as you try to quiet yourself to the point that tears are brimming in your eyes.

“That’s it. Cum for me. I’m so fucking close, baby, I want you to do it for me.” He growls into your ear, feeling your nails digging into his shoulder blades in response. He snaps his hips forwards sharply as his thumb works circles on your clit. It’s got to be half-time by now, and as much as Mav irritates you — the last thing you want is for him to see you crying because of how hard you’re about to cum.

Turning your face away from his neck, you press your nails into his tanned skin, pressing your lips flush to his shoulder and grazing your teeth along the flesh. Bradley grunts, his hips stuttering as you quieten yourself by biting hard at the muscle there.

Your walls clenching around him as you ride out your own high sets him off, his hands white knuckling around the backs of your thighs as he spills inside of you.

And then he’s walking downstairs again, fully aware of your nail marks trailing in scorching red lines down his back. Not to mention the distinct bite mark on the swell of his shoulder. He settles back down onto the couch and picks up his beer, not making eye contact with a single person in the room. Not even the one who went upstairs to use the bathroom ten minutes ago and heard Mav’s daughter whimpering Rooster’s name.

[piarelei]

Date Night

Can be read as a sequel to Bullseye, but doesn't have to be.

Jake slid onto the passenger seat and the leather gave a squeak of protest under him. Bradley gave him a bordering-on-nervous smile. Jake was too floored with how out of character it felt that he barely reacted when he was greeted with a kiss. This was incredibly unusual. 

“Ready?” asked Bradley. 

Jake hummed, trying to settle in his seat. He refused to feel nervous. 

“Right. Let’s go, I made a reservation for 7:30.”  

Jake affiliated the noose that tightened around his throat to hunger. There was no other reason for it. 

The restaurant was beyond nice. Jake was always impeccably dressed, but he felt decidedly out of place trailing after Bradley. Their waiter brought them to a linen-draped table and handed them menus printed on a single sheet of paper. Jake looked up with some alarm, only to find Bradley already mesmerized into his own potential order. 

The table between them was akin to a sea of loneliness. 

“This is not working.”

Bradley looked at him with a bone deep shock. 

“I’m not talking about our relationship. I’m talking about this,” he twirled his finger around, designating the room at large. “I’m missing something.” 

Anger rose on Rooster’s face like a bloom at dawn. “This is a date.”

“Yes. But this is not the sort of date we go on. Honestly, I’m surprised you would choose something like that. Feels awfully heteronormative coming from you.”

Bradley pulled a face. It didn’t hide the sudden blush heating on his neck. “I suck your dick. There’s nothing heteronormative about it.”

Their waiter popped over at this exact moment. He was too polite to say anything, but his gaze held multitudes. “Have you chosen what you would like to start with?” 

“We’ll take two Old Fashioned, thank you.” 

Bradley frowned but didn’t correct him. Once the waiter left with their orders, he leaned over. “I don’t even like Old Fashioneds.” 

“Both are for me. You prefer to drink with your meal anyway.” 

Bradley sighed. “This was not what I envisioned.”

“And what did you envision?” 

“I don’t know. I thought you would be pleased. Less aggressive.” 

Jake crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, feeling too defensive. “Listen, I struggle to understand why we’re not making out on my couch right now.” 

The waiter dropped off their drinks and offered to take their order. Jake let Bradley take charge of his meal. 

Bradley stared at him. “Is it so awful for me to do something…” He winced. “A bit romantic?”

Jake did his hardest to keep his face neutral. It didn’t work, Bradley frowned at whatever he saw in his eyes. 

“Right. This was fucking stupid. Come on, I’ll pay, let’s go.” 

Jake couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t relieved by that, but he also knew that he couldn’t afford any broken china in their relationship after a five-months-long distance.

“Bradshaw, sit down. We’ve been dating for nearly a year. We don’t do this sort of thing.”

Bradley shrugged. “Maybe we should.” 

“Well, I wasn’t under the impression that there was anything wrong with the way we were.” 

Bradley kept quiet. His expression remained stiff. 

Jake leaned back, an idea percolating suddenly. “Are you about to propose?” 

The immediate panic was a relief. “Jesus, no. That would be fucking crazy.” 

“Right. Okay. Well?” 

Bradley looked away, toying with one of the Old Fashion he had appropriated. He sighed, giving in. “It’s just a thing my parents did. Mav told me he used to babysit me all the time so that my Dad could bring my mom to this semi-fancy restaurant she loved. I just thought it would be nice to have this with you.”

Jake softened, then felt a thick surge of guilt take place up in his throat. It felt incredibly selfish to have opposed Bradley every step of the way when he had wanted to do something nice, even if it was different from what they were used to. To what Jake needed. 

“I’m…” He battled with it a few seconds. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to this sort of dating.” 

“That’s my fault too, then.” 

“Fuck off, Bradshaw, you’re not my first boyfriend.” 

“Hopefully, I’m your last.” 

Jake’s words were robbed from his mouth for a good second. “Sounds a lot like you're proposing to me.” 

Bradley leaned back, familiarly smug. “Maybe I should.” 

Jake was grateful to see their waiter coming to keep him from having to say anything incriminating, like yes.

Didn't really have any time before today and worked up a quick thing, more of a character study than anything else. Hoped you enjoyed. Show some love with a reblog baby ♥

[the-ace-with-spades]

High School AU where the yearbook comes out and Bradley and Jake were chosen for 'the couple most likely to get married.'

Thing is, they aren't even together.

Bradley laughs it off and Jake agrees because they're in the middle of the cafeteria and they're sitting with their friends and half of his football team is two tables down but internally, he's dying.

Bradley comes home and tells Mav all about it and about how ridiculous it is, you know, because Jake and he aren't even together and like how could anyone think that?

And Mav just blinks and says, "You're not? Then why have I been asking you two to keep the door open for the past two years?"

And Ice comes down from his office at this exact moment and Bradley tells him the story again and makes fun of Mav and Ice asks, "You're not? Thank god, I hate that boy."

Bradley forgets the whole thing for a minute. "What? I thought you liked Jake!"

"I only pretended to like him. I'm not going to be one of those dads who scare off their kid's boyfriends. But god, did I wish he'd get scared off anyway."

So deciding that his parents are no help, he calls Nat and rambles to her about the whole thing. When he finishes and she stays silent, he says, "Please don't tell me you thought we were dating, too."

"I mean, I knew you weren't, you would've told me."

"But?"

"But I thought you eventually would be dating. I thought you were just being a chicken and taking your time with asking him out."

"Why would you think that?"

And then Nat proceeds to explain how they've already acted like they were dating, hell, they acted like an old married couple in a body of teenagers and wow, Bradley is fucking dumbstruck.

Scratch that. Bradley is fucking dumb.

He really needs to talk to Jake.

(Meanwhile, Jake is eating ice cream and watching rom-coms with his mama and sisters, crying it out because Bradley thought the idea of them together was ridiculous and he's definitely not asking him to prom now and just—he's been in love with him for the four years they've known each other and Bradley thinks it's ridiculous.)

[caystar13star]

Update: I wrote it:

Ok I know it was said that originally Jake was supposed to be Iceman’s son. Let’s say he is, along with his twin brother, Tyler. They grew up mostly in Texas because that’s where their Aunt Sarah and Uncle Slider ended up when Ice started climbing the ranks. They decided as a family (Ice/Mav and Sarah/Slider) that the boys would be better off having a stable home. They did spend their summers with their dad and Mav whenever they could, and they would come visit the boys when they were on leave.

They knew Bradley, but weren’t especially close since he was several years older. Tyler was jealous of him because he lived with Ice and Mav after Carole died (he and Jake were offered the choice but Jake didn’t want to leave their school and Tyler didn’t want to leave Jake.)

Anyway, both boys were super excited about going to the Academy and becoming aviators like their dad(s) and uncles. They were popular in school, but while Jake played baseball and football, Tyler rode in the rodeo.

Tyler was good, like potentially going pro good, until he was stepped on by a bull when he was sixteen. It broke the bone in his thigh, leading to him having a rod put in to stabilize it. He woke up from surgery to see Jake passed out in Mav’s lap, and Mav crying as he held Tyler’s hand.

“Pops?” he croaked, squeezing his hand softly. “Where’s Dad?”

Mav wiped his tears and leaned over to kiss Tyler’s forehead. “He’s coming, baby. He had to wrap some stuff up in Hawaii, and I was closer so I got here faster.”

Tyler tried to figure out the look on Mav’s face. It reminded him of when someone would bring up Bradley. He wasn’t sure why he was on the other side of that look.

“Ty, baby, we need to talk,” Mav shuddered and braced himself, not ready to do this again, but he had to be the parent here. “They had to operate on your leg, sweetheart.”

Tyler glanced down, seeing the bulky cast that reached from his ankle almost to his hip. He remembered the blinding pain he felt as the bull came down directly on his thigh. He was pretty sure he’d passed out immediately.

“Okay? Am I going to lose my leg or something?” That would explain the look. Mav didn’t do pity, but he oozed empathy. He took everyone’s pain as his own.

Mav shook his head and grabbed his hand tighter. “No, baby, no! You’ll be just fine,” he assured him. “You have a long recovery ahead, but you should be able to walk and run eventually.”

Tyler sighed in relief, looking down at his twin, noticing the dark circles under Jake’s eyes. He’d been at the rodeo, with a rowdy group of his football teammates. He must have been so worried.

“Ty,” Mav called his attention back. “They had to put a metal rod in your leg. You lost some of the bone and this was the only way to stabilize it.”

Tyler didn’t understand why he sounded so apologetic. Mav must have seen his confusion and he sighed. “Tyler, you won’t be able to fly for the Navy.”

His brain whited out for a moment, like a record scratch. His whole life had been planned as long as he could remember. He and Jake. Together in school and in the sky. They already had their pilots’ licenses as soon as they could get them. They flew their dad’s Cessna regularly just to stay fresh. But the F-18 was the goal.

What was he going to do now?

Also, Tyler has no patience for Bradley’s temper tantrum after this. He didn’t come see him when Tyler was in the hospital, and that irritated Jake too.

After the mission, they’re all reconnected and Bradley and Jake come visit Tyler to introduce him to Phoenix and Bob. Tyler is sweet and welcoming to everyone except Bradley.

Days go by and Jake wakes up one morning to hear Bradley and Tyler yelling at each other on the back porch. He runs down to play interference.

“You don’t understand, Ty! I had a right to be mad!!”

“Oh, no,” Tyler scoffed loudly, “I wouldn’t know anything about having my dreams ripped out from under me and having to completely change my life plans! I wouldn’t understand that at all!”

[bodydoublegame]

hello! it's amy! if you follow my personal account, you'd already know what this is. body double is a side project that i do for fun inbetween infamous, just for when i need to refresh my brain! i decided to make a blog for it so i don't flood my personal account with this game lol.

This game is a side project that I do when I need inspiration for Infamous. That means development on it will be sloooow. Infamous is my main priority right now!

Body Double is a an interactive story that takes place in a cyberpunk inspired world where top secret operatives of an elusive Cypress Industries have the unique ability to jump bodies.

Agent Sawyer is the best Agent in the business, tasked with protecting Cypress Industries and all of its assets.

Until three weeks ago.

Framed for the president's murder and in a last-ditch effort to save their ass, they switch bodies with our regular, ordinary IT-tech MC...who is now walking in the body of a suspect the entire city is looking for. Stuck in a citywide manhunt, MC is now on the run with a pesky Agent who refuses to tell them where their body is. To make matters worse, Agent Sawyer's subconcious is stuck in their head, speaking to them like a pest MC can't shake off.

Wonderful.

With a help of a host of characters from Sawyer's past and MC's present, MC will have to throw themself in a conspiracy to clear Sawyer's name and get back to normal. Relatively. No pressure.

The usual IF stuff: customize your mc from personality to appearance. Unsurprisingly from me, BODY DOUBLE is a character driven story with a focus on relationship dynamics, angst and drama...but this time with action.

Mold Sawyer in the prologue and be stuck with them in your head for the rest of the story. Are they humorous? Stoic? Vulgar? Emotional? Arrogant? You decide.

Romance characters like Sawyer's ex (messy) or the human-mech hybrid trying to kill you (messy) or your measly IT tech friend who has no idea what the hell is going on but they're a trooper. Or an AI. Your call.

Try to uncover a conspiracy and solve a murder in a cyberpunk setting.

Don't die?

SAWYER [RO][customizable]: the agent accused of murder. The wires get crossed when they switch bodies with you, and somehow you have their subconcious in your head. They refuse to switch back until you help clear their name even though you're in their body, which means people are after you now. Asshole move, really.

ROACH: Sawyer's twin brother and perpetual hermit. As a hacker, he has eyes all over the city. He also misses his sibling, so he's determined to see it through.

AGENT BECK [f or m] [RO]: A cool and intimidating fellow Agent of Cypress Industries...and Sawyer's ex partner. Sawyer dumped them, broke their heart, and since then, ghosted them (as one does.) With that said, Beck is determined to help you. And them. Just make sure to try to ignore the longing looks they send your way. It's not towards you, of course.

CAI [RO] [f, m or nb models] : Cypress AI or CAI is Sawyer's former field partner. Honest, cold and emotionless, you can't believe CAI is actually helping you. It must be going against their every makeup to go against Cypress, but having someone like them on your side is beneficial, at least.

HAWKE [m][RO]: the mech-human hybrid tasked with hunting you down. Well, hunting Sawyer down. Their one mission is to see you (Sawyer) dead, which poses a problem so as long as you're in this body. So there's that.

SOLANA [f][RO]: the elusive club owner...and the last person to see the president alive. You can't tell if Solana is an ally or an enemy, but you do know the one thing that drives her is power. Good to keep an eye on her, anyway.

AXL [nb] [RO]: the wealthy child of the now dead president and new heir of Cypress Industries. They hate your (Sawyer's) guts. They have hired all the best operatives and assassins to take you (Sawyer) down, and will stop and nothing to get their justice. If only you could convince them otherwise...

MAV [f or m] [RO]: your best friend and fellow IT employee. A trooper, who decides to be your sidekick on this weird...journey. No biggie. Make sure they don't die.

As usual, BD is 18+ for adult themes, explicit language, suggestive situations, violence and more! <3

[callsign-mayhem]

i'm with the band (part 2)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female!Reader & Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader (final pairing to be revealed at the end...) Word count: 5.1k CW: Use of Y/N; reader wears Dr Martens, but that's the only specific detail.

You discover that your best friend Bob can play the drums, and since you have some musical gifts of your own, you decide to start a navy band. It's supposed to be a bit of harmless fun, but what happens when lines get blurred between you and Bob, feelings come to the surface, and a certain Rooster gets jealous?

This is a multi-part fic.

Find part one here!

The Hard Deck was bustling like it always was on a Saturday night. Bradley was the last of the daggers to arrive, so he headed straight to the bar to get caught up. When he was eventually next in line to be served, he was more than a little surprised to see Maverick behind the bar.

‘What’re you doing, Mav?’ He asked.

Maverick handed two pints of beer to a young aviator, flashed him a million-dollar smile and then turned on Bradley. ‘Helping Penny,’ he replied. ‘One of her girls called in sick.’

Bradley’s lips quirked. ‘Does this mean I get free beers all night?’

Penny suddenly appeared beside him, a tray of empty glasses in hand. 

‘No, Rooster, it doesn’t. And if Pete wants to keep his balls attached to his body, he’ll agree with me.’

‘Remind me never to get on your bad side.’ Bradley grumbled.

‘There’s a beer in the tap for you, anyway,’ Maverick explained. ‘From Y/CS.’

‘What?’

‘Three beers, actually. She paid for them when she got here, something about getting you back for the sex on the beach.’ Maverick grinned, seemingly pleased that he’d successfully embarrassed his son for all intents and purposes. ‘Hope you used protection.’ 

‘Oh god, Mav. Stop. That’s not what she meant.’

‘I know what she meant,’ he said, pouring Bradley’s beer. ‘She’s drunk already. Phoenix too.’ 

Bradley’s stomach somersaulted. He’d seen you drunk a handful of times, and he was obsessed with the way it made you more confident. 

‘Yeah, that’s my fault.’ 

‘Keep an eye on them, alright?’

‘Always do.’ Bradley saluted him and headed towards your space in the corner. 

Somebody had the good sense to push three high tables together. Much to Bradley’s annoyance, Bob and Mickey had already taken the seats on either side of you. Nat was sitting opposite you like she had at the restaurant, so she saw Bradley before you did. 

‘ROOSTER’S HERE!’ She yelled.

You spun around so fast that you almost slid off your stool. Before Bradley could steady you, Bob was already there with his hand on your arm. 

‘ROOOOOOOOOOO!’ You cried. ‘Did Mav tell you about your drinks?’ 

You weren’t drunk to the point of heavy eyes and slurred speech, but you were the furthest from sober next to Nat. The last empty seat was right at the edge of the tables, next to Jake. Bradley didn’t feel like chatting to him all night, so he picked the stool up and put it at the head of the table by you and Natasha. 

‘Yes, he did. You shouldn’t have, doll.’ 

You practically swooned at the pet name, a reaction Bradley filed away for later. He wondered how else he could make you swoon. 

‘What did I miss?’ He asked, settling himself on his stool.

‘Me and Y/CS duetting Limp Bizkit in Bob’s truck,’ Nat informed him. ‘It was something to behold, really.’ 

‘Penny should start doing karaoke nights,’ you said. ‘Imagine the fun we’d have.’

‘Nobody would want to do karaoke with you, Y/N.’ Bob said. He had two Corona Extra bottles in front of him and a full one in hand. Bradley supposed that you weren’t the only one who needed a bit of Dutch courage tonight. ‘You’d smoke every single one of us with that voice of yours.’ 

You blushed deeply. Mickey and Natasha shared a knowing look, all but confirming Bradley’s suspicions. 

‘He’s not wrong,’ Bradley chimed in. ‘We should get behind the piano later.’

So maybe he was swinging his dick around. Either way, the way your eyes widened at his suggestion was worth feeling like a dick for a couple of seconds.

‘Really?’ 

‘Yeah, it’s been a minute.’ 

‘I’d love that, Roo.’

Nat jumped down from her stool. ‘Let’s get another drink, Y/N. I think Penny wants to talk to us about that thing.’

‘She does? What thing?’

‘The thing,’ Mickey interjected. ‘You know, the surprise for Mav.’

One second, two, three. Then realisation suddenly dawned on you, and you disappeared with

Mickey and Natasha, out of Bradley’s grasp yet again. 

What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall during that conversation. 

Natasha led you through the swarm of people around the bar and out to the decking. Part of it was undercover, which is where you stood to keep out of the rain. Clusters of people were huddled underneath the shelter, smoking cigarettes and sharing drinks. Mickey had followed you out, which you found highly amusing. 

‘You’re not one of the girls.’ You toyed, poking him in the chest. 

‘I am tonight. I know what’s going on, and I wanna be involved.’

Nat rolled her eyes so hard they disappeared into the back of her head. ‘You’re such a child, Fanboy.’

‘Oh, let him stay. Maybe it’d help to get a guy’s perspective. He texted me at the restaurant to tell me Rooster was looking at my tits.’

Natasha scowled. ‘Don’t let me hear you say tits, Fanboy. It doesn’t suit you.’

You and Mickey both howled with laughter. ‘That’s exactly what I said!’ 

‘We’re getting off track here,’ Phoenix said, flapping her hands. ‘Pay attention.’

Mickey nodded, face grave. ‘Attention on deck.’ 

‘First of all,’ she started, ignoring his pun. ‘Bradley was looking at your tits. Let’s get that out of the way. Second of all, Bob was also looking at them.’

‘Well, he was trying not to, which made it obvious that that’s where he wanted to look.’ Mickey corrected. 

‘Right.’ Nat agreed.

Heat pooled in the bottom of your tummy. ‘What am I supposed to do with this information?’

  ‘You gotta make a decision.’

‘What if I don’t want to be with anyone right now?’

‘Don’t you?’

It sounded even more stupid out loud. Of course, you wanted to be with someone, but how were you supposed to pick out of the two most incredible guys in the whole world?

‘Why do I have to make a decision now?’

‘Cause they aren’t gonna wait around forever.’ Natasha told you. 

‘Bob might.’ Mickey said, earning him a smack around the back of the head. ‘What the fuck was that for?’

‘Bob has just as much chance of finding someone else as Bradley,’ Natasha chided. ‘Don’t talk down about him.’

‘Right, sorry.’ 

‘Me and Bob are starting a band,’ you blurted out. ‘We’ve been getting close lately, practising and stuff. A few navy guys are coming to his place next week to audition.’ 

‘Oh boy,’ Mickey grinned. ‘You’re starting a navy band and didn’t ask Rooster to join?’

‘His name didn’t even come up,’ you admitted. ‘I doubt he’d wanna be part of it anyway. He’ll probably say it’s lame.’

Nat tucked a loose curl behind your ear. ‘If you think that, you don’t know him at all. He lives and breathes music, and he won’t think it’s lame if you and Bob are there.’

‘If she’s there, you mean.’

Nat raised her hand, and Mickey flinched. ‘I swear to God, your honorary girl membership isn’t gonna mean shit if you say one more word.’

‘Damn.’

‘We should go back inside.’ You said. 

‘Tomorrow, we’re gonna talk about this. Once we’ve dropped Bob off at his truck. You’re not gonna keep getting out of it.’ 

‘Breakfast? What breakfast? Can I come?’ 

‘Fanboy, for fuck’s sake.’ 

Bob was arguing with you over the songs in the jukebox again. A fuzzy feeling had overtaken his body, filling the empty spaces with warmth and giving him confidence he’d never known until now. Sure, he’d been drunk before—well, drunk by his definition—but this was something else entirely. He’d come to the conclusion that even though he was enjoying himself immensely, it wasn’t something he wanted to feel on the regular. He didn’t understand how people did this every weekend. 

‘If you had to pick one song in this jukebox to listen to for the rest of time, what would you pick?’ You asked, leaning against the machine.

Bob scanned the song titles that were becoming so familiar to him that he’d probably be able to recite them in his sleep soon enough. 

‘That’s an impossible question.’ 

You smiled lazily. ‘Come on, Bobby.’

‘You’re expecting me to pick one when there’s The Clash, Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen and AC/DC in this jukebox.’ 

‘And Billy Idol. You can’t forget Billy.’ 

‘Exactly my point.’ 

You leaned over to reread the song’s titles. Bob admired the way your hair slipped over your shoulder, brushing the hand he was using to steady himself against the jukebox. You were closer to him now than at the restaurant earlier, and he wished he could bottle your scent and carry it around with him all day. He was obsessed with your perfect, glossed lips and the idea of kissing them. 

His small crush on you wasn’t small right now, and being intoxicated made it harder for him to stop himself from doing something about it. You reached out and pressed the number for Dancing In The Dark before taking his hand in yours—a small feat, maybe, but not to him. Your hand was soft and warm, and he wanted to feel it on his face again, like in his truck. 

‘Where are we going?’ He questioned. 

‘To dance.’ 

‘I can’t dance, Y/N. You know that.’ 

‘Everyone can dance when they’re drunk,’ you reassured him. ‘Just don’t overthink it.’

It was easier said than done, but with your hand in his, his newfound confidence grew three sizes until it was almost too big for his body. You two were something straight out of a movie just then, dancing in a small space you’d found in the middle of the bar, singing along to the lyrics at the same time. 

He respectfully rested a hand on your waist, and you put the hand that wasn’t holding his other one on his shoulder, so you were like ballroom dancers. You sure looked the part, being too overdressed for The Hard Deck; the only thing missing was an actual ability to dance, but you were both too happy to care. Little did you know that Natasha was filming the whole thing on her phone and taking pictures now and then. 

When the song ended, you both waited to see what would play next, but nothing did. Instead, Bob was brought harshly back to reality, to the sounds of glasses clinking and loud chatter. That’s when it dawned on him that the jukebox had been unplugged. Once people realised what was happening, they moved to the piano on the other side of the bar from where you and Bob had been dancing. He hadn’t even noticed Bradley leaving the table to unplug the jukebox or take his seat at the piano because he’d been too wrapped up in your energy, your touch, and the sound of your voice. 

He wasn’t happy to have been interrupted by Rooster yet again, but the idea of hearing you sing properly—not just under your breath while dancing—was highly alluring. 

‘I think it’s piano time.’ You grinned. 

Still holding tightly onto his hand, you weaved your way through the massive crowd to the rest of the daggers, all of whom were at the front, waiting for their friends’ performance. When Bradley saw you, his face broke out into a toothy grin. He’d donned his aviators as per usual, and he watched you walk over to him over top of them like it was just you in the room. 

Bob couldn’t exactly blame him. Most of the time, you were the only person in the room for him, too. 

When Bradley patted the spot on the bench, you hurried yourself, clearly excited to perform. The alcohol was probably helping, as he’d yet to convince you to get behind the instrument sober. 

Bob moved to stand between Natasha and Reuben. 

‘Been having fun?’ Nat quipped. 

‘I was.’

‘Is that a little jealousy I hear in your tone, Floyd?’ 

Reuben nudged him playfully. ‘Come on, man. Phoenix didn’t raise you to sit on the sidelines. If you like Y/CS, don’t just sit around and watch someone else sweep her off her feet.’ 

Keys tinkled as Bradley got reacquainted with the piano. He looked to you earnestly, silently asking if you were ready. In response, you nodded and offered him an anxious but excited smile. 

Bob recognised the song immediately. 

Bradley sang the first verse, and you sang the second. Where his was husky and deliciously rough around the edges, yours was full and velvety. 

Slow down, you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile But then, if you're so smart, tell me Why are you still so afraid?

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You better cool it off before you burn it out You got so much to do, and only So many hours in a day

When the chorus came around, both you and Bradley sang together. Paired with his expert piano playing, it was the most beautiful cacophony. Your voices welded together like precious metals, and the result was priceless. 

But you know that when the truth is told That you can get what you want Or you can just get old You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through  When will you realise, Vienna waits for you?

You were bouncing off one another. When Bradley sang louder, you sang louder. When Bradley’s voice deepened, it made yours sound more angelic. When you held a particularly long and high note towards the end of the song, Bradley stopped singing altogether to give you and your voice a very deserving moment in the spotlight. Everyone around the piano was singing along, even Bob. He was helpless to stop the urge. Bradley’s stage presence was infectious, even when you weren’t performing with him, but there was something about you singing Billy Joel that made it virtually impossible not to join in. It wasn’t just the song or the fact that you were singing it, but the apparent joy that performing brought you and Bradley. Someone would have to be deaf and blind not to notice it. 

Bob was half considering asking Bradley to join the band. He was talented, and Bob could see that he’d be an asset, what with how much you loved singing with him. 

But that was also the problem, wasn’t it? 

He hadn’t even wanted to be in the band, but now he was protective of the whole idea. He didn’t want band practice to become another place where he competed for your attention and affection. 

Bradley managed an expert transition from Vienna straight into his usual crowd-pleaser, Great Balls of Fire. Bob had no idea how he’d managed it, but he had, and the crowd roared with delight. Mickey and Javy—who had somehow overtaken you and Nat and currently held the position of the drunkest daggers—were jumping around like maniacs. Bob, Nat, Jake and Reuben were laughing amongst themselves, totally distracted by their shenanigans. 

As a result, Bob missed the smouldering look that you and Bradley shared, the way you reached up and stole his aviators with a wink, all while never missing a word of the song. He was singing at you, and you were singing at him. Now, not only were you the only ones in The Hard Deck, but you were also the only ones left on planet Earth. 

It was gone 1 AM when the cab pulled up in front of your home. Stars twinkled in the night sky—looking much like your dress—and your front garden was bathed in moonlight. It had been a night for the ages, but as brilliant of a time you’d had, you were looking forward to taking off your boots and putting your pyjamas on. 

Natasha seemed to share your sentiment—she’d taken her shoes off in the cab and walked up your front path in her socks, trainers swinging absentmindedly from her hand. You were glad she was spending the night because you felt you needed an entire debrief after the evening’s events. 

Bob’s presence was perhaps more exciting than the prospect of gossiping and making breakfast with Nat. He was drunker than you’d ever seen him, humming to himself as he led you to your front door. He held your arm to keep you steady, and the contact felt out of this world. 

‘Bobbyyyy—’ you slurred. ‘Please, can you get my house key out of my bag? I don’t think I have any base brain functions.’

He laughed, taking your bag off your shoulder to find your house key. ‘I knew I should’ve stopped Seresin when he started ordering shots.’

‘Nah. That might have been the best idea he’s ever had.’

‘I think we’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one.’

You and Bob were standing on your porch with the front door open. He gestured to Natasha, who was doubled over next to your rosebushes. 

‘Example A.’ He smirked.

You facepalmed. ‘Not the fucking roses, Nix!’ 

She heaved once, twice, then promptly threw up. You started down the steps, but Bob reached out and grabbed your arm again. 

‘You can’t even stand up straight,’ he said. ‘Go inside, I’ll get her.’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ 

You stumbled through to the kitchen, turning lights on as you went. The air in your house still smelled like the autumn candle you’d been burning earlier and clean laundry. At heart, you were a homebody. Nothing was more satisfying than returning to a clean, organised space, cooking a meal and watching a movie tucked under blankets after a long day. It was rare for you to enjoy a night out like this, to be the one begging everyone to stay for one more drink. The atmosphere had been charged tonight, especially at The Hard Deck. When you’d performed ‘Vienna’ with Bradley, it had been like touching a live wire. The current still reverberated through your body, and your body ached from unused energy. 

In the time it took Bob to get Natasha inside, you poured three glasses of water, added some ice, and nearly tripped over your own feet. She looked a bit worse for wear, but it was nothing that some aspirin and long rest wouldn’t fix. 

‘I think you two should get upstairs to bed.’ Bob said sternly.

‘Okay, dad.’ Nat sniggered. ‘You gonna tuck us in?’

‘Well, I just held your hair back while you threw up, so we’ve already crossed a line.’

‘Girls do that for each other all the time,’ you said. ‘It’s normal.’

‘But I’m not a girl.’

Nat wagged an accusing finger at him. ‘You know what, if Fanboy was here, he’d have appreciated that. He loves being one of the girls.’

‘So true,’ you murmured in agreement. ‘Bob, you’re being ungrateful.’

‘For what?’

‘Your hon-honourary girl membership.’ You said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

‘Alright, let’s go. Get your waters.’ 

Both of you did as you were told but weren’t happy about it. You headed towards the staircase, Bob following close behind. He turned lights off as he went, ever thoughtful. 

Upstairs, Nat collapsed face-first onto your bed. You rummaged through your chest of drawers for three sets of pyjamas while Bob switched your lamps on and closed your blinds. 

‘Bobby, are you okay with one of my oversized band tees?’ You asked.

When he didn’t answer, you spun around. He was perched on the edge of your bed, the photo frame you kept on your side in his hand. He was cradling it like it was worth a million dollars, eyes misty and far away. It was a photograph of you and him on the carrier after the special detachment mission when everyone had gone out to meet Maverick and Rooster. There seemed always to be people taking pictures in moments like those, and when you’d seen this one, you had to frame it. You and Bob were standing facing one another, faces bright with triumph and relief. He cradled your tear-streaked face in his hands, and you were both laughing in disbelief that you were together again. 

‘You keep this next to your bed?’ He whispered. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you said: ‘Of course I do.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re my best friend, and I like it being the first thing I see when I wake up in the mornings.’ 

Bob set the photo down gently. He seemed to be having a hard time breathing. ‘One of your T-shirts will be fine, thanks.’ 

Natasha sat up, rubbing her head. ‘You guys are so cute,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to sleep in the guest room?’ 

Your eyes flew to Bob. He was playing with his hands, clearly still stuck on the photograph. 

‘No, Nix. You should sleep in here with me in case you choke on your vomit.’ You threw a pair of Spongebob pyjamas at her. ‘Go put those on.’ 

‘Both of you are so bossy.’ She grumbled. ‘You’re perfect for each other.’

She padded across your bedroom floor and out into the hallway. Once you heard the bathroom door close, you sat next to Bob on the edge of the bed.

‘It’s a Radiohead t-shirt.’ You informed him. ‘I don’t think any of my pyjama pants will be long enough for you.’ 

He took the shirt and set it on your pillow, ignoring the unsaid words that hung in the air like rain clouds. It was all you could do to sit still when Bob took his glasses off and ran his fingers through his sandy hair. 

‘Thank you for letting me stay,’ he said quietly. ‘And for the shirt.’

You looked at him earnestly, waiting for him to meet your eye. ‘Thank you for existing.’

His leg bounced nervously. When you laid a hand atop his thigh to stop it, his eyes darted to and from your face so fast you almost missed it. There was no way you were letting him shy away from this time. 

‘Bobby, look at me.’ You pleaded.

He did as you asked with some difficulty, and you were met with a hesitant gaze. 

You touched the middle of his head with your index finger. ‘What’s going on in there?’

He leaned against your hand, smiling bashfully like a child. ‘It’s a secret.’ 

‘We don’t keep secrets.’

It seemed like he was going to spill his guts for a moment, but then he stood up. He grabbed your t-shirt, pausing above you.

‘Get some sleep, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.’

And with that, he took himself off to the guest room, leaving your heart racing and your head spinning. When Natasha returned, you were still staring at the doorframe, desperately trying to figure out what had just happened. It seemed like Bob was upset with you. 

‘What happened?’

‘I think Bob’s angry with me.’ 

‘Why?’

You picked up the picture frame and handed it to her. ‘He was looking at this, and I tried to talk to him—see if I could see what was going on in his head—and he couldn’t even look at me. He told me to go to sleep.’

Nat’s brows knitted together in confusion. ‘I don’t think he’s upset with you.’

‘He is.’

‘No, he’s not. Hear me out: he’s in love with you, and most of the time, you guys act like more than best friends. Short of sleeping together, you’re basically already a couple. Then, tonight, you have that moment with Bradley—’

‘It-’

Nat held a hand up. ‘Don’t deny it, we all saw it. There’s chemistry there.’ She insisted. ‘Bob’s probably super confused because he can see it too, and then he comes here and sees this. The poor guy probably doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going.’ 

Your heart withered in your chest at the realisation. ‘He’s in love with me.’

‘Yes, Y/N, and you need to do something about it. If you think you might feel the same way, you need to stop fucking around with Rooster and give it a shot with Bob. Or, you need to let Bob down gently because otherwise, someone is gonna get seriously hurt.’ 

God, how you wished it were that simple. You took the clips from your hair and kicked off your boots while Natasha took her makeup off at your vanity. All seriousness put aside, it did feel a lot like the kinds of sleepovers you had with your friends in high school. 

‘Nix, can you unzip my dress?’

‘Damn, now you’re trying it on with me too?’

You laughed. ‘You make me sound like a whore.’

‘I mean, if the shoe fits…’

You grabbed one of your throw pillows and launched it at her. She squealed with laughter, jumping up to grab her own pillow. After dealing a few revenge blows, she unzipped your dress for you. 

Breathless from laughter, you said: ‘Hangman would have a field day if he saw us.’

‘When he asks how our sleepover was on Monday morning, we should tell him we had a pillow fight in lingerie.’ Natasha grinned devilishly. 

‘He won’t be able to focus on his manoeuvres.’

‘Good, then I’ll beat him all day.’ 

Natasha crawled into your bed and propped herself up on your throw pillows. You went through the motions of your night routine, taking off your makeup and changing into pyjamas. It was gone 2 AM by the time you got into bed. You had lots to think about. Natasha was right about somebody getting hurt if you didn’t do something soon. She’d told you everything you needed to hear except what you were supposed to do about it. 

Why couldn’t there be a blueprint, a map that showed you which path to follow and where you’d end up? 

As you drifted off to sleep, you thought about band auditions with Bob on Tuesday afternoon and the expression on his face when he’d seen the picture on your bedside. But this wasn’t all you thought about. You couldn’t help but reminisce about your performance with Bradley and the pure, unadulterated joy you felt while singing with him at the piano. 

Rain pelted against the roof of Bob’s garage. The weather had been awful the last couple of days, the build-up to the storm that had been forecasted for San Diego. Bob loved being cosied up inside when it was storming and falling asleep to the comforting sound of rain. What he didn’t love was the fact that it kept the dagger squad grounded and bored at work. Sure, there were other things to get on with, but he preferred being airborne. 

It had been a tedious week thus far. The only thing getting him through it had been the prospect of band auditions this evening. Considering he didn’t even want to start a band to begin with, he was in his element now. You and Bob were sitting on the sofa in his garage, leaning forward in your seats as you listened to Elliot Green play bass with expert precision. Elliot was one of the air and space operations guys, and he’d seen the poster you’d made on his way to work one morning. Bob wasn’t sure anyone would notice your posters, even though you’d spent ages creating them. 

He’d never been happier to have been wrong about something because Elliot was a natural on the bass. He was precisely the kind of person you needed for the band, and Bob could tell from the glint in your eye that you felt the same.

When he was finished, you both gave him a hearty applause. Elliot was tall and lean, with sandy blonde hair slightly longer than Bob’s and glasses. At work, he wore the same glasses as Bob, but he had a different pair for out of hours. These were round with tortoiseshell rims, and Bob couldn’t help but think Elliot was an artsier version of him. 

‘Well,’ you said dreamily. ‘I don’t think Bob and I need to discuss anything.’

‘No, we don’t.’

‘The spot is yours if you want it.’ You beamed.

Elliot’s blinked behind his glasses, taken aback. ‘Isn’t there anyone else trying out?’

‘Not for bass,’ Bob explained. ‘We've got someone else coming over in the next hour, but he’s trying out for guitar.’

‘You wanna stay?’ You offered. ‘Since you’re part of the band now, it might be a good idea.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ He smiled. ‘Thanks, guys. I’m excited.’

Not even half an hour later, Fletcher Adams showed up with the sexiest-looking guitar Bob had ever seen. It was a matte black Strat, and it suited him perfectly, what with his slicked-back raven hair, grey eyes, and sharp jawline. He introduced himself as Fletcher, but you and Bob knew him as something else. 

Fletcher Adams. Callsign: Phantom. 

He was part of another squadron, and although Bob didn’t know him well, Phantom’s reputation preceded him. If Bob weren’t part of a better squadron than Fletcher, he’d have found him intimidating. 

‘Thanks for having me, guys.’ Fletcher said. ‘I’ve been fixing to join a band for a while now, but there’s not much happening in the San Diego music scene.’ 

Somehow, Bob found that hard to believe. As you grabbed a cherry coke from the mini fridge, Fletcher eyed you like you were something to eat. If he’d wanted a bandmate with a massive crush on his best friend, he’d have called Bradley up.

‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’ Bob said, gesturing towards the guitar. 

Fletcher made a ballsy choice for his audition song: Master of Puppets by Metallica. Part of Bob had hoped that Fletcher was shit at guitar, but he was anything but. It was as if his instrument was an extension of his body, the strings extensions of his fingers. If that wasn’t enough, he played the most challenging part of the song with his eyes closed in bliss. 

It appeared the band was complete. 

Before wrapping things up for the night, you all made plans for the same time and place on Friday night to start putting some songs together. You also pooled all your equipment and made a short list of things you were missing. Everyone contributed, and you and Bob arranged a trip into the city over the weekend to get the last few bits you needed.

The whole thing had come together remarkably quickly, perhaps too quickly for Bob’s liking. At work, he was trained to keep his cool in stressful situations. It was different then, when he could use his nervous energy for problem-solving and quick thinking. He wasn’t unused to feeling like a fish out of water, but this was the furthest from the pond he’d ever been. Bob liked to keep his head below the parapet where it was less likely to get cut off. He stayed off the radar and made as little noise as possible, but starting a band was the exact opposite of that. 

And falling in love with you was the noisiest thing he’d ever done.

A/N: Part two is finally here! This fic isn't doing as well as I thought it would, but I'm still going to finish it because I'm enjoying writing it. I guess my uni professor was right in saying that the projects you're super attached to are the worst received. I have such big plans for the next parts, and it's kind of writing itself at this point. I have no idea whether the reader ends up with Bob or Bradley, so I'll be just as surprised as you guys!

Taglist: @dearsnow

[whohasthecards]

What if Goose was alive and eventually, after the mission, he meets the Dagger squad, and although he is enamored with all of them ("You can't fucking talk Mav, you literally already have adoption papers drafted-", "You're just as bad as your husband, Ice."), everyone notices how he's very fond of Hangman.

Bradley especially doesn't understand as he has told his dad about the incident during the mission training where he almost threw hands with the younger man, Hangman did apologize to Rooster and Maverick after the mission, but still-

Deep inside, he knows that his dad was never the type to hold on to grudges harshly. (Unless it's about pranks. That's a different story.)

---

"Sir?" A voice behind Goose meekly asks while he was stirring a big pot of stew to feed all the old and baby aviators he decided to feed today.

Goose put a lid to leave the stew to simmer as he turned and smiled at Hangman, the younger man hunched over himself and fidgeting, a far cry from the cocky aviator his son and his friends talks about.

"What can I do for you, son? Also, no need for that formal sir nonsense, I'm retired now," Goose says smiling, hoping to ease the kid.

It seems to make the kid tense up even worst, but the kid inhaled and, "I would like to apologize for my comments towards Rooster regarding you and their relationship with one another. I was out of line, and I'm sorry. Thank you for inviting me to your home despite my actions. I understand that you may have only invited me, so that I won't be left out when you invited the whole squad, and I would just like to let you know that that's unnecessary so if you would like me to leav-"

"Woah, woah, kid, slow down," Goose said as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you for your apology, I already forgave you when you saved my son and best friend's lives, you're a good man, and I knew you were a great man when you apologized to them. I invited you because I wanted you to be here, son, and don't tell them I said this," Goose leaned forward letting his voice become a soft whisper, "Mav, Rooster, and Ice wanted you to be here too, you're wanted here, kid." Goose said squeezing his shoulder. "I should actually be thanking you even more for saving my son and his stupid godfather's lives, 'smile and wave' tactic, my ass," Goose said chuckling a bit and shaking his head.

He had a front row seat to see Hangman's dumbfounded face transformed a light shade of pink as he averted his eyes.

"I don't like leaving my team behind," Hangman muttered shuffling his feet. "I didn't want to, but I was spare, I left them to go, but my job was to make them come home, I'm glad I was able too." Seresin said looking at his feet.

"I was in the navy, son, pretty sure launching against orders wasn't your job," Goose said smiling softly, "but thank you for doing it anyways."

Seresin shuffled his feet, as he went back to fiddling with his fingers, before he straightened up and look at the older man in the eye. "Well, a proper thank you involves gifts, right? How about I eat everythin' your cooking, hell, even give me first dibs as one of the stars the the show," Hangman said smirking, a confident mask settling into place.

Reminded Goose of a certain aviator.

Goose simply chuckled at that and patted the boy's shoulder one more time before turning back to the food.

"You can get first dibs if you start throwing the salad together," Goose said nodding his head to the kitchen counter beside him with the ingredients for the salad. "Get to chopping and throwing lieutenant," Goose said teasingly.

Seresin put a heart to his chest and gasps, "Making your guest work for his food? Blasphemy. Goes against my heart-core beliefs." Despite the complaints, Seresin grabbed the knife and started unwrapping the vegetables.

"Does hard work go against your beliefs?" Goose teased as he grabbed more ingredients from the fridge.

"Nope, but I didn't think I was the host for the day. Your old age catching up to you, old man?"

Goose huffed out a breathe as he passed by Seresin on the way back to the stove, "Sure, kid, let's go with that," he humored. He set the new ingredients down and ruffled the brat's hair, ignoring the squawk of protest. "Don't forget to rinse the vegetables before chopping."

---

The dagger squad started growing closer to one another, they were on leave and from what he knew, they would be stationed on the same side of the country. He told Bradley that they were invited to come over to his house, and he knew that Ice and Mav have offered their house and hangar to the squad as well.

It ended up with the Daggers seeing each other several times a week.

It was adorable how close they are.

("They keep on getting into stupid arguments and rough housing one another," Mav complained dramatically from Goose's couch. "Nearly took out my table!"

Goose raised a brow at him, "Gee wonder who that reminds me off."

"Makes me wonder if they're grown, sometimes," Mav said shaking his head.

"Kids will be kids, at least they're comfortable with you to show it, plus you were much worst when you were their age, and still worst now."

"Rude.")

He and Jake started cooking more, the kid was an excellent cook, especially behind the grill.

"Jake! I bought some steak for dinner tonight, want to help me grill it up for you and the team?" Goose said, smiling and waving his fresh catch from the grocery store.

"Too much steak is bad for your cholesterol, ya know," Jake drawled but went closer to grab the food, anyways.

"Rude, I'm not that old," Goose said rolling his eyes.

"You were alive and thriving in the 80s," Jake snarked back.

He gave the boy a light head swap for that muttering how the younger generation had no manners these days-

---

"You ever interested in reading comics?" Goose asked one day when Jake was sitting on his sofa.

"Uhhh, like the movies?" Jake said frowning looking up from his phone.

"Blasphemous, stand up, they are not like the movies, they are a different form of art."

---

"You ever baked a cake before?" Goose asked letting Jake into his home.

"I feel like this is going to become another case of me and experiencing unpaid labor," Jake drawled.

"Your payment will be in mocha-extra-chocolate cake, is that acceptable?" Goose said moving towards the kitchen, smirking as he heard the boy's footsteps following him.

"Can we put cherries in them?" Jake asked moving to clear the counter.

"Sure, son," Goose said smiling.

---

"Why is he wearing my shirt!" Bradley exclaimed pointing at Jake who was chewing cereal at the kitchen table.

"He came here after his jog, and his shirt was drenched with sweat, we wouldn't want him to get sick, would we?" Goose said setting another bowl for his son, as he sipped on his coffee.

He didn't know how those two had so much energy in the morning.

Bradley pouted and sat down, "He better not touch my other stuff."

"Why would I want to touch your other stuff, I don't want anymore chicken feathers on me," Jake said wrinkling his nose.

"Asshole."

"Dickwad."

"Jerk."

"Chicken shit."

"Okay boys, enough, and eat your cereal. Go play nice or something after breakfast," Goose said rolling his eyes as he ruffled both of their hairs as he walked to the living room to watch the morning news. Leaving the sounds of protest behind him.

Children.

[tgmsunmontue]

It's not who you know 1/4

YEAR 1 - Non-angsty Nepo!Baby Bradley and his first year at the USNA and his head-in-the-sand approach to the nepotism and the fact that he ends up being known as the guy with the two hot dads instead...

YEAR ONE – 2001

                “You don’t want us to drop you off?”

                “No! I don’t need a… a Captain and an Admiral coming to my first day. It’s not school!”

                “Lots of parents will be dropping their kids off. It’s the beginning of Plebe Summer…”

                “Yeah well, it’s not like I haven’t been there before. I know my way around already, you know your way around! Please don’t…”

                “Are you… embarrassed to be our kid?”

                “Uh…” Bradley refuses to meet their eyes.

                “Oh my god, you are!”

                “No! No. I’m not embarrassed okay? It’s more… I don’t want people knowing I’m a legacy kid.”

                “Oh,” says Ice then, expression going understanding and Mav looks confused.

                “What? What am I missing?”

                “Bradley wants to prove himself. Doesn’t want others to think he got in because of his… connections.”

                “But… he did.”

                “He also tested crazy high, he would have got in regardless.”

                Bradley feels a flush of achievement at the sheer surety in Ice’s voice, proud and no-nonsense.

                “But… you’re more than just a legacy kid. You know that right?” Mav asks, and he suddenly seems so unsure, like Bradley isn’t aware of how good he is.

                “Yeah Mav, I know that.”

                “Anyway, you’re a triple legacy kid and plenty of the brass at Annapolis already know you’re on your way. You going to pretend you don’t know half of them?”

                “If I have to…”

                Mav cackles then and Bradley lets out a laugh as well when Ice just lets out a resigned sigh. He needs to make a couple of phone calls. Another job for tomorrow.

…             …             …

                “When did we become uncool? He doesn’t want anything to do with us! Maybe it’s just you that’s uncool, do you think he’d let me take him? I want to take him.”

                Tom rolls his eyes, because Mav is nothing if not dramatic.

                “We have to let him go. I’m sure we’ll figure out some way of keeping in touch. My parents wrote me letters.”

                “Too slow. We could get BeepBeep one of those transportable phone things.”

                “Calling him BeepBeep is another reason why he doesn’t want to be seen in public with us. Also, it’s a mobile, or cellphone, you’re not old so stop sounding like you are.”

                “Yeah yeah, just because you have one.”

                “We can get you one at the same time we get Bradley one…”

                “Hmm, I feel like it would just be another way you could tell me no.”

                “It would be another way in which you ignore me telling you no.”

                “You like it when I don’t say no,” Mav says, turning toward him and grinning.

…             …             …

                “Mav, where are you?”

                “Uh… I took a couple of personal days?”

                “To do what? Also I find it highly suspicious that these personal days coincide with the start of Plebe Summer. Tell me you aren’t stalking Bradley.”

                “I’m not not stalking him?”

                “Jesus Pete…”

                “He doesn’t know I’m here! I’m just… making sure he arrives okay!”

                “He’s an adult. He flew there, we put him up in a motel and he then caught a taxi. Shit. I still haven’t rung Sli and let him know Bradley’s going to pretend not to know anyone…”

                “Oh! Don’t do it. Let Bradley cause havoc! Can you imagine some of them talking to Bradley like they know him and Bradley just… pretending they’ve got the wrong person?”

                “Do you really think Bradley would be that rude?”

                “Depends how committed he is to this whole ruse. And he was pretty stubborn.”

                “I wonder where he gets that from…” Tom remarks dryly.

                “One of life’s mysteries,” Pete replies, clearly distracted and Tom lets out a long breath and reminds himself that he loves Mav. Mantra or curse, he loves the man.

                “So what are you actually doing?”

                “Watching everyone arrive. I’m just parked in a car up the road and watching everyone walk in. Bradley will be easy to spot because he’ll be all alone…”

                “So you’re in a car outside a naval training center staring at cadets as they arrive. Tell me you don’t also have a pair of binoculars.”

                “They’re small ones.”

                Tom groans and hangs up on him, glad that he did go through with getting Mav that cellphone after all. As much as the idea of letting Bradley cause chaos may be appealing to Mav, he knows better and he really needs to make that phone call.

…             …             …

                “Welcome back to Annapolis Bradley!”

                “I’m sorry sir, you must have me confused with another cadet…”

                “Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “That is my name sir, but I think you have me confused with someone else…”

                Admiral Mackenzie blinks and frowns and then steps back.

                “Sorry Cadet Bradshaw. On your way then.”

                “Thank you sir. Nice to meet you.”

…             …             …

                Tom sighs and wonders what the easiest way of dealing with this is going to be. He’d fully intended to make this phone call months ago, not leaving it until the first evening of Plebe Summer when Slider is no doubt at his busiest.

                “Hey Ron…”

                “Oof. First name. What did I do?”

                “Not you…”

                “What did Mav do?”

                Tom snorts and rubs at his eyes.

                “Not him either…” He won’t mention the creepy sitting in a car aspect of Mav’s latest craziness.

                “Bradley? Baby Goose? He’s never any trouble…”

                “Well, I think he’s going to make up for it.”

                “At Annapolis?” Ron scoffs disbelievingly.

                “He’s going to pretend he doesn’t know anyone…”

                “Uh. But he knows everyone.”

                “I’m well aware. Just… can you prepare everyone for Bradley being an idiot and pretending he knows no one?”

                “Oh… I think this conversation is coming too late. Mack came into my office earlier and said that Bradley completely blanked on him.”

                “Oh shit…”

                “Well, at least we have an explanation. He was worried that he might have memory issues.”

                “Who? Him or Bradley?”

                “Either. Both? Anyway, I’ll let Mack know. As well as the others, because that could have backfired horribly.”

                “I know. They’d think he was getting smart. He just… I think part of it is wanting to be judged on his own merits, but also not have anyone use him to advance themselves.”

                “He’s a smart young man. I look forward to watching his career.”

…             …             …

                “You seem to know how everything works around here…”

                “Uh. I did a lot of reading in preparation for coming. I didn’t want to be taken by surprise by anything you know?”

                “Smart move. You definitely seem to have caught the attention of all the instructors at least. They all know your name.” Bradley grimaces, because that’s not necessarily a good thing. At least no-one has called him MiniMav, BeepBeep or Baby Goose. There are others, but he doesn’t need his childhood nicknames coming common knowledge. “Although, I guess Bradley Bradshaw is an easy name to remember. Kind of rolls off the tongue. Brad Brad.”

                Bradley lets out a sigh, resigned to yet another nickname.

…             …             …

                Mav follows through with the other visitors. He hasn’t really told Ice or Bradley that he was planning on coming today. Unlike Ice who went through USNA Mav never really allowed himself to show too much interest, directing it all toward the flight school after doing his Bachelor degree. Now that Bradley is here though he can ask all the questions. Even the ones he’s pretty sure he knows the answers to. He spies one of the cadets with the last name Trace and wonders if this is the same one in Bradley’s platoon. Maybe.

                “Hi! I’m Peter, Bradley Bradshaw’s dad. Nice to meet you.”

                “Good morning Mr. Bradshaw. Natasha Trace. Bradley didn’t mention that his parents were coming…”

                “Well no, I hadn’t been planning on coming. I can’t often get away from work, but I thought I’d try and make an extra effort with it being the parents day and all…”

                “Oh, did your wife come with you?”

                “Uh, no, I’m not married…” The young cadet looks awkward then and Mav takes pity on her. “I’m just going to join one of the tours. If you see Bradley tell him his dad Pete is here. I’ll catch up with him later. It’ll be a surprise!”

                “Uh, but if I tell him then won’t it spoil the surprise?”

                “He’ll still be plenty surprised when he actually sees me.”

…             …             …

                Bradley still hasn’t seen Mav, and he knows it must be Mav, because Ice surely wouldn’t fuck him over like this. He’s heard through three others that his dad is here, and also a few comments that he looks good. Bradley hopes like hell he’s not in his fucking uniform, although everyone is fairly desensitized about uniforms looking in any way sexy when everyone is wearing them. He’s more worried about people finding out exactly who Mav is… But he can’t seem to find him in the swarm of people, everyone showing their family around. Plus Mav is short and likely knows Bradley is looking for him.

                “Bradshaw! I just met you dad, holy fuck he’s all sorts of hot isn’t he?”

                “Short guy? Dark hair?”

                “Why? You have more than one dad?”

                Bradley freezes, suddenly unsure of what to say because in his head he’s got space for three dads and they’re all very distinct people. None of whom he would ever describe as hot. Gross. God, it’s even worse than thinking of them having sex.

                “I, uh, yeah… fuck.”

                “Like… a dad and a step-dad, or are we talking a couple of dad’s who adopted you?”

                “Closer to the second one I guess,” Bradley says, resigned, because fuck it, it’s close enough. He’s not going to get into the specifics but he guesses he can share some rough details. “My dad died when I was a little, his best friend is my god-father and he was pretty much my dad growing up. And once him and his partner figured their shit out I got another dad…”

                “What about your mom?”

                “She died a few years ago. Cancer.”

                “Oh wow… so you really have two dads.”

                “Yep. And one of them is here?”

                “Yeah, he said his name was Peter Bradshaw?”

                “Oh. Huh. Of course he did…”

                Trust Mav to fucking come up with a cover story but not tell anyone else what is.

                He doesn’t end up finding or seeing Mav for the entire day, although he does receive a couple of overly exaggerated winks from some of the teachers, as well as Uncle Slider and Admiral Mackenzie. He takes it with good grace because they’re humoring his need to try and stay as anonymous as possible, even if Mav seems to be intent on fucking it up.

…             …             …

                “You couldn’t have stopped him?” Bradley asks, and Tom would almost call the tone whining, but there’s too much desperation there.

                “I’m sorry, are we talking about the same person? Have you ever tried to stop him doing something once he’s set his mind to it?”

                “Ugh, I didn’t even get to see him! What was the point?

                “So he could see you. See that you’re happy and alright.” Just like that the wind seems to leave Bradley’s sails, like he has to let Mav have this. Has to be grateful for small mercies that Mav didn’t learn how to do sky writing, which he’ll keep to himself because it’s totally something Mav would want to try out. “And you should know he’s actually being fairly restrained, especially if he didn’t approach you. He did follow you out there for your first day and just watched from a car like the giant dork that he is.”

                “What? Ugh. Dork, yes. Giant, no. Ugh. Why is he like this?”

                “I really have no idea. Do you like the taste of whiskey yet? I find that helps.”

SECOND YEAR

[callsign-dexter]

A Father's Comfort

Request: hey lovie 

I just went through a pretty nasty break up (not because of him and I) and I tried to explain everything to my friends and some family what happened by they all thought I had done something wrong. The only person who had my back was my dad, he was the only one who would listen and told me it wasn’t my fault. 

anyways I was wondering if you could write a maverick x daughter reader where she broke up with her boyfriend and tried to get some reassurance from friends and family (maybe just some of Pete’s old friends) but they just thought she was the mess up (maybe they were just extremely passive aggressive) so she just tried to laugh off the jokes. Maybe eventually Pete finds out through the chain that she broke up with the boy so he tried to go confront/comfort her and she tried to make jokes and in the middle of “laughing” she started crying. Then maverick just jumps into loving father mode and comforts her.

maybe the reader is like 16-17

thank you and 100% your choice

Pairings: Maverick x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: cheating, angst, fluff, asshole boyfriends, asshole Chipper, asshole Sundown, asshole Merlin

A/N: Hopefully you caught the Grease reference. I'm so sorry you had a rough break up and sorry I got this out late. If you need to talk my messages and asks are always open.

You didn’t know what happened. You thought your relationship with Justin was going great. You loved him and he loved you or so you thought. It was after school when it happened you were getting ready to leave the parking lot. You had just arrived at your Toyota Tacoma when Justin strolled up to you. You smiled when you saw him and greeted him with a kiss but he pulled away and turned his head so that you kissed his cheek this confused you. “Everything ok?” You had asked him.

“I think we should break up.” He said and your heart broke.

“What why?” You asked

“I don’t love you and never did. Besides I’m going out with Teresa.” He said and your face drained.

“How long has that been going on?” You asked now furious but still heart broken.

“A month after we got together.” He said and our eyes began to sting with tears. “We can still be friends.” He said and you didn’t say anything. He started to walk away but still close enough to you when you shouted at him.

“Lose my number and never talk to me again.” You said and he turned around.

“I’ve already lost it.” He said with a proud smirk on his face while yours was a frown.

“All I want to know is why.” You asked

“You’re too clingy. You never wanted to go further. At least Teresa is willing.” He said and then walked off and now you were truly alone. You got into your truck and drove home somehow not crashing. When you pulled into the driveway you recognized most of the cars as being Top Gun’s Class of ’86.

You parked in your original spot and killed the engine and headed inside of the house. It was loud and from the looks of it some of them had been drinking. You knew they were coming over for a cookout that your dad had planned and you were looking forward to it too until now. You knew you looked awful and you just wanted to escape upstairs and into your room. The plan was going smoothly until Hollywood saw you and smiled and went over and hugged you.

“Mini Mav! How are you?” He asked and you could tell that he had been drinking some but you were respectful and greeted him back because that is what your father taught you.

“I’m fine.” You said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your ear and your eyes weren’t as bright but he couldn’t tell that but two people could, Ice and Slider. They weren’t drinking as much because they tended not to and the thought of hangovers now killed them, when they were younger, they were fine with it but not now plus someone had to be a little bit sober while Maverick and Goose were gone to pick some stuff up and to deal with the rowdy ’86 bunch.

“You seem down. What’s up?” He asked pulling you into him uncomfortably and you nervously laughed and looked at Ice and Slider for help.

“My boyfriend and I broke up.” You said and got out of his hold by now most of everyone was paying attention to you.

“What happened?” Chipper asked as he took a drink of his beer.

“He said I was too clingy. He also cheated on me after a month of dating.” You said with your head hanging down.

“Well, were you clingy? Is that why he started cheating on you.?” He asked and you looked up at him with a shocked expression and everyone laughed but Ice and Slider.

“No, I texted him asking him to hang out but that is what boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to do. I also just wanted to know how his day was each day and text him good morning and good night. I also just wanted to spend more time with him and make plans and he never answered and I just send him ideas. He also wanted to go further and I didn’t want to.” You said in an exasperated voice. Chipper scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but they don’t have to hang out with each other 24/7.” He said and you could feel tears stinging your eyes.

“Chipper.” Ice said sternly not liking the look on your face and he looked at him.

“What? If she’s being clingy and doesn't want to go further, I know how teenage boys are, then I see why he was cheating on her.” He said to Ice and then turned back to you “Just a friendly reminder, try not to be so clingy next time and just go further.” He said and a tear slipped out and down your already tear-stained cheeks. Sundown scoffed.

“You’re being too sensitive about it. Just let it go. I don’t mean to be rude but it sounds like it is your fault that he cheated on you.” Sundown said and more tears fell down.

“Cheating on you was a surprisingly good decision on his part. If you were texting him all the time and wanting to hang out all the time, my girlfriend doesn’t even text me that much and I’m perfectly fine with that.” Merlin said and took a drink of his drink.

“That’s enough guys. You’re upsetting her.” Slider said and walked over to you and brought you into a hug.

“No, it’s ok. I’m just going to go up to my room. Oh, where is dad and Goose?” You asked, looking at him sniffling.

“They went to the store to grab some things. They’ll be back in like 10 minutes. I’ll let your dad know that you’re upstairs.” He said and hugged you which you returned and hugged him back and then when you released each other you started up the stairs to your room where you shut your door and fell face first into your pillow and began to cry.

Just like Slider said Maverick and Goose arrived back home and everyone had gone back to normal but Ice and Slider looked annoyed. Maverick and Goose put the bags down and then walked over to them. “What’s wrong?” Maverick asked, noticing that they hadn’t even touched the rest of their drinks.

“Where’s Y/N/N?” Goose asked, also looking at the two.

“She’s upstairs and you need to go and check on her.” Ice said and before Maverick could ask why Slider spoke up.

“She broke up with Justin.” Out of all the ’86 class Ice, Slider, and Goose were closest to the Mitchell girl “Everyone was passive aggressive to her. She took off upstairs. She’s really upset about it.” Slider said and Maverick nodded, pissed that the others would be so hateful to his daughter. They know better even if they have been drinking. Goose was pissed too, that was his goddaughter for crying out loud. He turned to Maverick.

“Go check on her. We’ll deal with the others.” Goose said and Maverick nodded and headed upstairs. He came to his daughter’s door and knocked.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Is it ok if I come in?” Maverick asked and waited for a minute.

“Yea.” You said in a quiet voice and he walked in to see you at your desk doing homework but could see your tear-stained cheeks and his heart broke. He went over and sat on your bed. You spun your desk chair and looked at him.

“Ice and Slider told me what happened.” He said

“They’re right. It’s my fault.” You began

“No- “He started but you cut him off with a laugh.

“I mean I probably texted him too much and that is why he cheated on me.” You said with a chuckle but could feel tears welling up.

“Honey- “Maverick said as his heart was breaking.

“I also didn’t want to go any further when we were making out and he would get annoyed. So why not cheat on me with someone that is willing to do something like that right?” You asked even though it didn’t require an answer. “I’m the stupid one and the one to blame.” You said slowly losing it and Maverick just sat there not saying anything and waiting for you to finish “Sundown is right I’m just being too sensitive and so is Merlin cheating on me was the right thing to do. I’m just a screw up and will always be a screw up.” You were looking anywhere but him. You were laughing until you weren’t and then you began to sob with your head in your heads and Maverick felt tears of his own.

Maverick pulled your chair over to him and pulled you into a hug and you leaned into him and wrapped your arms around him and buried your head into his shoulder. “You’re not a screw up. You’re a wonderful person and anybody would be lucky to have you, I know I am.” He said and tightened his hold on you. “You will always be my girl no matter what.” He said “You’re young and still have time to figure out what love is. Who knows the right one may be living in the house just across the street.” He said, hinting at Bradley but you were too upset to figure it out. 

“Thank you, Dad. I love you too.” You said he brought you so he was looking at you at arm’s length.

“Anything for my best girl.” He said and brought his hands to your face and wiped the still falling tears with his thumbs. They say the only man a girl can depend on is her daddy and you found out that was true that day. You were glad to have him in your life.

Tag list:

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (11-Epilogue)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 2.2K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: The end of an era! I hope you all enjoy.

A special shoutout to @roosterforme and @mak-32. Em is the one who encouraged me to make the one shot this was originally supposed to be into a full length story, and without these two constantly encouraging me, I promise this wouldn't be half the story that it turned out to be. Love ya, ladies!

-------

As it turns out, your first wedding had been a quick, private affair. The judgment the two of you received from moving as quickly as you did had made you decide early on in your engagement that a big, pompous wedding wasn’t for you. And really, you didn’t care about any of that anyway. The rumblings of a potential deployment or change of station had you moving even quicker and on a Wednesday afternoon in late summer, the two of you were married by a justice of the peace on the National Mall in DC, the Washington Monument in the background. You had wild flowers threaded through your hair and a lacy white dress and there were tourists in the background of almost all of your pictures. Despite all of that, it was still categorized as one of the best days of his life, but the second time would be different. 

Bradley wanted you to have everything you ever wanted this time, but you had been insistent that there was no need for a grand event. Wedding venues with short notice were hard to come by in San Diego and you didn’t want to get married on the beach. When Mav had suggested his hanger, you had lit up at the idea. The next few months had been a whirlwind of ordering catering and finding flowers, constructing arches and finding tables and chairs to rent and stringing twinkle lights from the ceiling - so, so many twinkle lights. But it had all been worth it once he saw the awe on your face as you walked around the open space the night before your vow renewal. The hanger was almost unrecognizable, and even though the ring was already on your finger, he couldn’t wait to marry you here tomorrow. 

You don’t sleep apart the night before, but he leaves early that morning to meet Mav and the rest of the guys from the Dagger Squad. You’ll be spending the morning with Nat and Coyote’s wife and a few of your other close girlfriends, and the kiss he gives you in the doorway to the garage is long and slow. 

“We’re getting married today,” you whisper against his lips.

“Again.” 

You laugh at his response, getting lost in his kiss. His phone dings in his pocket and he knows it’s the groupchat asking where he is, not for the first time. He pulls away from you reluctantly. 

With a sigh, he slips his ring off his finger and hands it to you. Your nose crinkles in protest, but you do the same with yours. He sees how you flex your fingers the moment you do, not used to being without them. 

“I still don’t get why you want to exchange rings again,” you mutter without any heat. Bradley kisses your forehead, lifting your left hand to his and then placing a kiss to your ringless finger. You shiver despite yourself and he smiles. 

“Because I want to enjoy putting it back on you, Pumpkin.” 

There’s really nothing you can say to that, but you roll your eyes fondly anyway, pressing forward for one more kiss. 

The morning and early afternoon go by quickly. He plays a round of golf with the guys and then they all help him with ensuring his surprise for you is completely good to go for the next day. He steps back at one point, watching as his friends, his family, work and laugh together, genuinely happy to be here for this day, for him and the two of you, and feels his heart swell. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe that this is his life. 

He doesn’t wear his dress whites like he did the first time. Instead, as afternoon fades away and guests start arriving, he changes into the blue suit you had told him was your favorite. He forgoes the tie, leaving the top button of his white shirt undone, and the early spring sun is just starting to set as he takes his place at the end of the makeshift aisle. His breath catches in his throat when you finally appear at the other end. 

It feels like it takes you forever to make it to him, but when your hand finally slips into his, the nervous energy that had been building in the last hour fades back into the normal excitement he always feels in your presence.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper right back, the moment just for the two of you, “fancy seeing you here.”

“Isn't it? You come here often?”

Your smile tugs into something of a smirk, and your eyes flash with mischief, “Just twice now,” you say, “hoping we don’t have to do this again anytime soon if we can help it.”  

Bradley can’t help the laugh that he lets out, uncaring of all the people watching them from their seats, waiting for them to get started. He likes that you’re in a place where you can tease him about this now.

“I’m not going to make a habit of this,” he assures you. You squeeze his hands, and he knows that combined with the bright smile on your face, it’s your way of saying that even if he did, you’d be there at the end of the aisle walking toward him every time. 

The officiant clears his throat, asking if you were ready to begin. As the man starts the ceremony, you send Bradley a wink, and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop the giddy laughter bubbling in him at how damn happy he is to be here. 

He doesn’t take his eyes away from you the entire time, wanting every single moment ingrained in his brain forever; every smile, every word, every tear, everything. He doesn’t make it through the vows without crying, and neither do you, but you hold his hand the whole time and wipe away some of his tears with the pad of your thumb. When it’s your turn to speak, he thinks his heart is going to burst out of his chest as you read the words you had written to him. 

When it comes time to slip your ring back on your finger, it feels like you’re completely alone out here on this runway. He doesn’t exactly remember doing this before and it feels like the first time and he vows that no matter what happens, he’ll never, ever forget it. 

You’re both practically vibrating after that, a smile so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt that’s reflected on your face, too, and he doesn’t hesitate when he’s finally given permission to kiss you. He dips you as the small crowd cheers loudly in the background. He can barely kiss you because of how much the two of you are smiling, but you more than make do. 

“I love you,” he promises, an oath he’ll never break. You caress his face as he holds you. 

“I love you too. Every part of you, sweetheart.” 

—---------

He wakes you up early the next morning. Your face crinkles in protest and you move to burrow back under the safety and warmth of your blankets. With a soft, fond laugh, Bradley pulls the covers away from you completely. 

“Baby,” you groan, “it’s not even light outside yet. We barely even just fell asleep.” 

You’re right. It had been almost midnight when the two of you finally slipped away from the reception, the party still going strong. It was after two when you finally went to sleep, both of you basking in the afterglow and pressed against one another, and it was only nearing five now.  “I know,” he says, rubbing your bare hip gently, “but you gotta wake up. I have a surprise for you.” 

You crack an eye open at that and he chuckles again. “What kind of surprise?” 

“Get up and I’ll show you. Dress comfy. You can sleep on the way.” 

“On the way?” 

He winks at you, standing from the bed and walking toward the door, already dressed and ready to go. You call after him, wanting to know where you’re going, but he makes his way down the stairs without a word; he knows the curiosity will keep you awake and moving.

You join him in the kitchen a few minutes later, dressed in leggings and your favorite oversized Eagles sweatshirt. He’s struck for a moment, remembering how beautiful you were to him that first day in the hospital in the same outfit, when he didn’t remember you but he knew you. It seemed like so long ago and it blew him away how far you’ve come together in just six months. 

You fall back asleep almost as soon as he pulls out of the driveway, tucked against his side in the Bronco. Music plays quietly from the radio but it’s the sound of your breathing that really keeps him company during the drive back to the hanger in the desert. You stir awake when he puts the vehicle in park, looking around with tired, bleary eyes. 

“Are we here to clean up?” you ask through a yawn as Bradley helps you out, closing the door behind you. He shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk toward the building. He stops right before the runway becomes visible, looking down at you.

“I thought maybe we could watch the sunrise together.” 

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “We couldn’t do that from our backyard?” 

A grin tugs at his lips and he shakes his head. “Not from the clouds, we can’t.” 

You only look confused for a moment before realization hits you and you gasp loudly, suddenly looking wide awake. “It’s ready?” 

“It’s ready,” he confirms. “What do you say, Pumpkin? Want to be the very first passenger?” 

He laughs when instead of responding with words, you squeal and grab his hand, taking off running toward the other side of the building. His newly finished, flight-ready Cessna is there waiting in the lightning of the early morning. He was starting to see the faintest hint of orange in the skyline and knew time was of the essence. 

He helped you into the aircraft carefully and climbed in behind you. He went through the necessities easily, knowing that Mav had already done all the mandatory preflight checks when he brought the plane out before dawn. 

He slips your headset on you with a fond smile, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. He double checks your seatbelt one more time, stealing a kiss before straightening in his seat.

“You ready?” He asks. You nod rapidly. With a deep breath, he begins to ease the four seater forward. Within moments, the two of you are airborne, leveling out with the clouds. The sky is beginning to streak with pinks and shades of orange and hearing you gasp in awe at the view from this high up is added to his list of favorite things, all alongside other memories of or with you. 

“Do me a favor?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. You pull away from watching the sky out of the window, turning your head toward him instead. 

“Anything.” 

He’s already smiling, so excited to show you. “Look inside your wedding band for me.” 

Your eyebrows knit together, but you follow his request anyway, slipping the jewelry off your finger and holding it close to your face to look on the inner surface. You let out a small gasp when you see words that hadn’t been there before. 

You turn it as you read, the inscription taking up almost the entire surface of the inside of the ring he had originally given you years ago. He had managed to find someone to do a same day service to make sure it was done and ready from the time he left the house yesterday to the time he said I do in the evening, and the extra charge was worth the way your lips parted and your eyes filled with tears. 

“Do you like it?” he asks, wanting that validation even though your eyes, always so expressive, conveyed just how much you did. Instead of answering right away, you leaned over, straining against your seatbelt to press a quick kiss to his lips, mindful of the fact that he was still flying the plane. 

“I love it. I love you.” 

You study the ring again, pinching it between your thumb and pointer finger of both hands to avoid dropping it, treating it like it’s something precious because he knows that, just as he views his, to you it is. 

He had accepted that he may never get all of his memories back. He may live with tingles in his brain and flashes of remembrance, living with unknown gaps for the rest of his life. It had frustrated him at first, but he had made peace with it. He knew that no matter what, you’d be here beside him, filling in what he was missing and making brand new memories along the way. Because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was the way he felt about you; it wasn’t something he had ever been able to truly forget. He planned on making sure you knew that every single day, and if he was ever not there to tell you, the words resting against your finger would do it for him. 

Remember you always, love you twice.

-----

Series Masterlist :: Spin Off One Shots :: Main Masterlist

Notes: What a journey this has been!! I can't tell you how much I appreciate every single person who has commented, reblogged, or liked this little story of mine. I hope it was everything that you wanted it to be. I'm so sad that we're already at the epilogue, but I'm so excited at potentially writing more for these two! I have a few one shots in the works for their story before Bradley's accident. If there's anything specific you'd like to see, please feel free to drop in my asks or inbox.

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[qin-ling]

paved in gold - excerpt

sequel to as lions. as lions tldr: time-travel fix-it in which TGM mav wakes up in 1986, relives TOPGUN, and makes some distinct changes to certain fates. paved in gold is set approximately a year later.

i’ll preface this to say aug/sep has been hellishly busy for me and i’ve been having enormous difficulty finding free time to work on this—but i’m too excited by the premise not to share a little of what i have. 😔

—

It’s too warm.

Maverick wakes in darkness. For a second, he’s groggy, slow, lost, surrounded in unfamiliar shadows, unfamiliar shapes, dimly lit in the amber bars of the streetlight beyond the blinds. The nightstand is strangely bare. No phone, no tangle of cables. Just a watch and a pair of dog-tags, glinting.

Then he remembers, and—oh. Notices the weight of the arm around him. There’s the culprit.

The arm loosens as he shifts, as he settles down again, before drawing him into a firm chest and the cradle of another body atop the sheets. Maverick grumbles, but soon sighs, mollified, when a large hand charts a lazy path beneath Maverick’s cotton tee.

Blearily, he asks, “Time?”

“Five,” says Ice, sounding far too lucid for what just came out of his mouth. Maverick feels the gentle drag of his nose against his ear; despite Ice being a veritable hot water bottle, the tip of it is slightly cold.

He smells like mint and Maverick’s shampoo. Already up and about, then. Nothing new. Their circadian rhythms are so rigid that Maverick only checks the alarm clock before bed out of sheer habit.

He closes his eyes again to the gentle press of lips against his nape. His heart thumps against Ice’s palm; something Ice clearly catches, because his mouth curls against Maverick’s skin.

A year now, and Maverick’s still not entirely used to the affection. A year, and Maverick still starts, sometimes, when Ice leans in.

“Rise and shine,” says Ice, a soft gust of breath against Maverick’s ear, raising gooseflesh up and down Maverick’s arms.

“You were the one who climbed back in.”

“Couldn’t resist.”

“Little old me?” says Maverick playfully. He rolls backward just as Ice sits up—carefully. In the muzzy darkness, Maverick can just barely make out the shape of him: already dressed, his khakis perfectly ironed and creased in all the right places.

“Calling yourself little, are you?” And old, Ice doesn’t say, but Maverick hears it anyway.

He stretches out into the warm spot Ice left behind. “Nothing wrong with it. Works in my favor.”

“Only in the cockpit.”

“Only place that matters,” says Maverick, with a breezy smile.

Ice returns it. He gets to his feet. “1100 hours,” he says. “Don’t forget.”

Maverick slaps a hand over his heart. “I’ll always be where the captain wants me to be.”

“Is that so?” says Ice, who was present when the base commander visited the TOPGUN complex that spring and Maverick was nowhere to be found. In Maverick’s defense, he’d been helping Stomper with a family emergency. Easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission, all that. Viper had nearly popped a blood vessel.

“You know it,” he says.

Ice only shakes his head. He reaches over to pat the hand still on Maverick’s chest, and Maverick grabs it, hangs on. Ice smiles. “See you in a few.”

“See you,” says Maverick. Reluctantly lets go.

He watches until Ice disappears from sight. A moment later, the front door opens and closes with a quiet click.

It’s still dark outside. The days are getting shorter and shorter, and in a sense that’s a blessing. Ice doesn’t like to linger—especially in the summer, when daylight stretches long and neverending.

He loiters a few minutes longer in bed, seeking the elusive peace of earlier. The duvet is still warm, the pillow next to him sweet with the familiar scent of Ice’s cologne. It melts something in him, even after all this time. Reminds him of a tidy home office, well-lit and welcoming; of an arm around him on the flight deck, steering him through the crowd; of a glaringly bright ready room twenty-odd years ago, Ice asleep against Maverick’s shoulder.

The ceiling fan whirs over his head. It’s the only sound in the silence of the early morning. It clicks with every rotation, lists slightly to one side.

Maverick gives himself one more moment. Then he gets up.

[sunlightmurdock]

older!bradley + a girl who is really outwardly sensual/confident but is actually very inexperienced and he sees right through it

this is giving bradley x mav’s daughter to the max because she’s so cocky and thinks that she’s got Bradley right where she wants him. They’ve only hooked up a couple of times and he’s been nothing but respectful since he found out who she is. A perfect gentleman. So, she thinks she can act however she wants around him.

So, when she’s at the beach with her friends and he’s there with his friends from work, she’s on her worst behaviour. Other people know who she is, too, by this point, so Bradley’s avoiding her as much as he can.

She’s on the right side of tipsy, wearing a barely there bikini, and headed right for him.

“I think Mav’s daughter’s got a crush on you.” Natasha comments, frowning over her beer as she watches her grow closer. Bradley hums. His best friend’s got no idea that Bradley had already fucked this girl three times. And he’s planning on keeping it that way.

Mav’s daughter walks right up to him and asks him how his night’s going. Fine. Asks him if he’s mad at her. No. Asks him if he’s really going to give her the silent treatment for the rest of her life. What silent treatment?

“I didn’t know who you were either.” She reminds him. He nods his head knowingly. It’s not like either of them did this on purpose. He’s not blaming her, but if he gets close then it’s going to happen again — he knows that much.

“I could fuck any guy on this beach, you know.” She stomps her foot in the sand as she says it, and that gets him to break. He smiles up at her and shrugs his shoulders.

“Be my guest.”

“Fine!”

And he’s subjected to two hours of watching her flirt with boys her own age, watching them drool all over her and fall for the extroverted, confident act she’s putting on for them.

Bradley sits there and wonders if maybe she need to be reminded of the fact that he knows exactly how quiet she get when he’s pulling her underwear down her legs. How she presses her thighs together and turns her head away from him. The way her fingertips press eagerly into his shoulder when he reminds her that it’s alright, that he’s got her.

Aware of the fact that Natasha’s watching him, Bradley finds himself standing up and marching over there anyway, curling his fingers around her bicep and tugging her to her feet.

“Rooster!” She scolds him, opening her mouth to start yelling. One look up at the serious look on his face and she’s quiet again.

“Come on,” He says softly, unphased by the fact that the frat boy she’d been flirting with is glaring right at him. “Let me take you home.”

Sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, she points her knees towards the door and scowls, embarrassed.

“Quite the performance you were putting on out there.” Bradley comments as he turns the keys in the ignition, reversing out of his parking spot. She ignores him. “Were you planning on telling that kid that I’m the only guy that’s ever made you cum, or should I go back there and do that for you?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that,” Rooster reaches out, his palm squeezing softly at her thigh. “He wouldn’t have known how to treat you anyway, baby. We both know you aren’t brave enough to really ask for what you want.”

Snapping, she sits up and turns to face him abruptly, shoving at his shoulder. “That’s not true!”

“No? — So, ask me,” He scoffs, turning his head to look at her as he pulls up at a red light. She stares at him. “Ask me for what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Realising what he’s talking about, her throat goes dry. He watches her gulp nervously. He turns his attention back to the road as he presses his foot back on the gas.

“I want you.” She tells him quietly.

“I’m sorry?” He frowns, like he hadn’t heard.

“I want you to fuck me again.” Her voice is quieter this time, but he hears her without issue. Just like he had the first time. He turns his head towards her and squeezes firmly at her thigh.

“That’s my girl,” He shoots her a quick wink. “Anything you want.”

It’s at that point that he makes a left turn and she realises that she’s far closer to his place than she had been to her own. He’d been driving this way the whole time.

[ladyeilien]

“So, Iceman, what’s the story?” asks Mav leaning over the table and giving him his best charming smile.

“You know the story, Mav.”

“Yeah, ‘Ice cold no mistakes’ my ass. No Naval Aviator has ever earned his callsign like that. Come on, Ice, I know there is a story there.”

Iceman smiles, considering; this is not something that he would usually divulge at the O club after a couple of beers – he uses his callsign, and the meaning behind it, to foster a healthy amount of respect and reverence toward him in other pilots. But this is Mav; he doesn’t want his reverence, and he likes to think that he already has his respect – and anyway, that’s not something he can earn like that, not from him. “Okay,” he says taking a sip from his beer and ignoring Slider’s incredulous look.

A new chapter of BYMP is now available in ao3.