#mav took the photo but get this

[forsty]

Post dagger mission.... shh they’re sleepin 

based on this 

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 18) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

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

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You try to adapt to life without Jake beside you anymore.

Series Master List

Master List

Dear Jake,

You probably haven’t even reached the aircraft carrier yet. You might even still be on the ground in Miramar. But I couldn’t wait. I miss you. You’ve been gone for less than five hours, and I already miss you so much. I'm not saying that to try and make you feel bad, but because it's the only thing on my mind now.

Everyone offered to take me out today to try and distract me, but I declined. I think that I just want some time to myself. I honestly don't even want to get out of bed. Maybe I’ll do some cleaning. Or who knows? Maybe I’m an accomplished knitter who hasn’t discovered her talent yet. Or maybe I’ll bake again. I don’t know. 

Also, all of the tee shirts you left behind are now mine. Sorry, it’s just wife rules. You shouldn’t have married me and knocked me up if you didn’t want me to steal your stuff. 

I miss you. I love you. And so does our little girl. Come home safe, Lieutenant Commander. That’s an order. 

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I went back to work today. Everyone tried to talk to me about you and the wedding and everything, but I just wanted to be left alone. Also, my cravings are all over the place now. And half of the stuff seems to make me throw up these days. Luckily, I still have the gum and toothbrush in my desk. 

How’s everything? I assumed that you made it to the carrier by now. Or maybe you’re somewhere else entirely.

You know all of those spy movies over romanticize how sexy it is to be waiting at home for your husband to return home from some top secret mission.

It’s not sexy. It’s just annoying. 

Here’s a photo of me and my bump. Don’t mind the mess in the background, I’m rearranging the whole apartment. Call it nervous organizing. It'll be cleaned up. Eventually.

She’s been a shy ever since you left. I can still feel her moving around, but even she seems to have realized that you're gone. I think that she just misses you. And I can’t blame her because I miss you too. 

I love you, Jake. Come home safely.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake, 

I got the package that you bought for me. I hope that you know that if you were here, I would have given you a rerun of that time that we went to that desert concert. The one where you wouldn't remove your hands from my waist for a second. I hope that your big promotion doesn’t change how much you enjoyed it when I tied your hands up back in your truck. 

Our daughter’s been moving around like crazy today ever since I played your voice for her. She doesn’t seem to be willing to kick yet, but we’ll get there in time. 

I let Emma take me out today. We just took a walk around her neighborhood. Baby girl finally went to bed after that. But knowing her, she’ll wake up just in time for me to go to bed. 

Here’s our photo from today. Emma took it. I can’t believe I’m going to get even bigger. You owe me a deep tissue massage on my back when you get home. And I’ll hold you to it. 

We love you and miss you, Jake. 

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved in with Mav today. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I was wrong. Being alone with my thoughts just makes me sad and lonely and I don’t want our daughter to bake in that. She needs to inherit your smile and dimples, so I’m making a bigger effort to be happy. 

Penny took me to get my nails done today. I got a light pink for our daughter, but now everyone’s assuming that we’re having a girl. I haven’t confirmed it because we didn’t discuss it before you left but don’t be shocked when you come home to a lot of pink. 

I also started seriously researching some girl names. I never realized how many people I don’t like until I started trying to name our daughter. And you better speak up if any of the ones that I suggest are ones that have bad meanings to you.

I’m still digging through a whole bunch of lists but there’s such weird ones out there, Jake. And we cannot name our child something that would get us a look from her teachers. Or a stripper name.

I love you. Baby girl is behaving herself, but she misses you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

To My Beautiful Wife,

I finally got a chance to check my email. We’re settled on the carrier now, but we’ve been doing a lot of drills and long briefings. I'm sorry that I haven't written earlier. Know that the two of you are always on my mind.

I’m glad you got your gift. I tried to record what I could think of for our baby girl. I don’t want her to miss anything. And I don’t want her keeping you up at night. Has she kicked yet? By my count, you’re hitting seven months in a day or two.

Thanks for sending me those photos. I put up one of the two of you from that photo shoot in my plane. Really brightens up the place. But it also reminds me of what I’m missing. Sometimes I have to take it down so I can focus.

I miss you. I miss our little girl. Every day, every hour, every second. 

Try to relax. I know that everyone’s probably told you that a thousand times by now, but I don’t want you feeling stressed about me. I’m fine and I'll be home as soon as I can. Please tell me that you didn’t lift anything heavy while you were moving into Mav’s house. Or maybe it's better if you don't tell me.

And you can tell everyone about her. I don’t mind. It’s not like we could keep it a secret for much longer anyways. But make sure to mention that I was right. 

And you have to tell me the worst names that you've seen on these lists. I left a list of baby names I liked in my nightstand. I'd research them when I couldn't sleep at night.

I love you and I love our daughter. I’ll try to be home soon.

Your Husband,

Jake

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I had my seven month appointment today. Baby girl is healthy and still measuring a little small. But her heartbeat is strong and I can tell that she’s going to be stubborn coming out. The doctor says that it’s only a matter of time before she starts kicking. 

I hope that the ocean isn’t too rough and you can see the stars. I remember when Mav and I spent a month in Hawaii when I was a teenager. We saw the most beautiful stars there. What if we picked a star name for our daughter? Not Stella, though. That was our dog's name growing up and I can't name my daughter after a dog.

I didn’t lift anything. Mav wouldn’t let me. And neither would Bradley. They’re watching me like hawks these days. And no, I didn’t mean that as a bird joke. Also, I can’t name our daughter after a bird. I’m trying to end the family streak of joke names. 

Mckeighleigh was the most ridiculous looking name I’ve seen so far. And we’re not naming our daughter Precious either. Or worse, Chastity. I don’t know how those nurses keep a straight face when they hear those names. 

And your recording telling her to go to bed has come in handy lately. Though I did warn her that we’ll be discussing the fact that she only seems to listen to you about that when she comes out. 

I love you so much Jake. You’ll be home soon, I know it. And we’ll be waiting for you when you do. 

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I can't fall asleep, so I’m writing to you instead. And no, it wasn’t our baby girl who kept me up. I’ve had the worst heartburn these days. And Tums don’t do shit. They say that means that our daughter will come out with a full head of hair. I say that I'd take a bald baby in exchange for better sleep.

My baby shower is in a few days. Next weekend. Emma and Phoenix said that it was going to be relatively small, and I hope that they stick to it. I’m not really in the mood to see a lot of people anymore.

I yelled at Bradley the other day for making an omelet with three eggs because he left an egg in the carton without a 'friend' because he left an egg alone in its row since there was an odd number of eggs. Apparently, I kept crying about it for a while, but in all honesty, I don’t really remember much of that conversation. I’m pretty sure that Bradley’s keeping his distance now. You probably would have enjoyed seeing his face. 

I asked for a little box at my baby shower to put name suggestions in. I’m running out of ideas. I keep worrying that we’re going to name her something stupid. 

Baby girl is growing bigger, and I can’t believe that I’m still going to get fatter. I’m struggling to grab things off of the floor now. Maverick got me one of those grabby things that old people use. You would probably find it hilarious.

I love you. I miss you. I’ll write to you tomorrow. 

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

“Thank you,” you told Emma as she handed you a lemonade. 

Emma and Penny took you out for the day to spend some time out of Mav’s house. You were growing increasingly less interested in leaving your 'nest,' as Bradley nicknamed it, and they were trying their best to get you motivated to go out and continue to live your life.

You had done some shopping for a dress to wear to your baby shower and now the three of you were getting a snack before you’d head over to the Hard Deck for the rest of the afternoon. You chatted for a moment before you sighed, slowly got to your feet, and grabbed your purse from your chair. 

“Bathroom?” Emma asked you.

“Where else?” you joked, walking off. 

A few minutes later, as you were washing your hands at the sink, you looked up when another woman stepped inside the bathroom. You offered her a friendly smile before her familiarity suddenly struck you. Quickly drying your hands, you reached for your bag and turned to leave. But the woman stood directly in your path.

She had stripes of gray cutting through what appeared to be deep auburn hair. She carried herself with a sense of purpose. And an expensive handbag. She reminded you of some of the women you used to see at the country club that you worked at in college. The type who turned a blind eye when their pig husbands made some demeaning comment to the women on staff and were never seen without some kind of drink in their perfectly manicured hands.  

“You know who I am?” Georgia Seresin asked softly.

You stared her down, gripping the strap of you bag tightly. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you could practically feel the rhythm in your ears. Taking a breath and releasing it, you tilted your chin up and narrowed your eyes at her.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded quietly, looking around the small public bathroom. No one else was in there except for the two of you. “Are you stalking me?”

“I came to California when my son didn’t respond to my letter.”

“I wonder why?” you wondered sarcastically.

“What did he tell you?”  

“Everything,” you stated firmly. “Which is why I would appreciate it if you stopped acting like it was just a coincidence that you ran into me here, hundreds of miles from your home, when Jake is conveniently deployed.” You paused for a moment before repeating through gritted teeth, “Why are you here?”

“To talk to you. About my son.”

“What about your son?”

“I know that your child isn’t here yet, but when they’re born, perhaps you can understand how much pain it could cause a mother to miss out on their child’s wedding or the process of them expecting their first child. From a mother to a mother—”

“—I’m going to stop you right there.”

You tried to keep your tears of anger in as you thought about Jake’s expression when he told you about his childhood. When you thought about the pain that you could hear in his tone, that you could feel radiating off of him.

“Because a woman who calls herself a mother would never do the things that you did. You stole him from a poor girl who loved him. You lied to her, promising that you would take care of him and love him. And then you turned around and fed him to the wolves." Nostrils flaring and angry tears threatening to fall, you added, "Did you ever even tell him that you loved him?"

“Of course, we did,” she admonished.

“Did you? Did you tell him that you were proud of him? That you loved him no matter what happened?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice even. “Every night my mom told me that she loved me and that she was proud of me. How many times did you tell Jake that, Georgia? How is a child supposed to just know that if you don’t tell them?” Shaking your head as you let out a shaky breath, you turned back to her. “And just so you know, there won’t be a day where Jake doesn’t tell our child that he loves them. Not one.”

Georgia adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and pursed her lips together. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner, but you didn’t give a shit about her feelings. 

“Did you come here to convince me to talk Jake into speaking to you again? To buy my baby from me? A combination of the two? Does your husband know that you’re here? Is he waiting outside?”

Georgia took another moment to compose herself from your questions. She glanced down at the rings on your finger before meeting your gaze again.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Jake selected a woman as . . . outspoken as you,” Georgia stated, adjusting her handbag again. “No, my husband does not know that I’m here. And I’m not here to buy my grandchild. I’m here to try and get through to my son and I’ve realized that the best way to do that would be through you. The woman he married and is having a child of his own with.”

Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Georgia's words.

“I have no interest in having a relationship with you because Jake doesn’t have an interest in it.”

“There’s nothing I can do to persuade you to speak with him about me?” Georgia pressed, an edge of desperation in her tone. 

“No, there’s not.”

“You would deny your child a set of grandparents?”

“I will protect my child from people who hurt their father.”

Forcing yourself to take a breath, you stared down Georgia for a moment. She looked far more pathetic than you knew she was comfortable with. Apparently, she thought that she would just waltz in, and you would agree with her without any pushback.

But she couldn't have been more wrong.

“You know, when Jake told me about his upbringing, I honestly felt a bit of sympathy for you, Georgia. Maybe you were convinced that being a rich housewife to a pathetic little man was a better life than being loved by a poor man. And I’m sure that your husband hasn’t been kind to you over the years.” 

The rage flashed to the surface again as she turned away from you for a moment. 

“But how could you look another woman in the eye and convince her to hand over an innocent baby to a man that you knew would be a horrible father? That you knew would hurt that baby?”

After a moment, you walked past Georgia, who did not move to block your path this time. You opened the door and strode out of there and you didn't dare look back. Trying to gather yourself, you looked up to see Emma and Penny a few steps away from you. 

“Are you okay? We were getting worried," Emma questioned with clear concern.

“Fine. Let’s get going to the Hard Deck,” you stated, already turning towards the parking lot. 

“What happened?” Penny asked, studying your expression. You didn’t reply and just kept marching towards the parking lot until Penny rested a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to slow down. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Jake’s mom walked into the bathroom,” you explained quietly, looking over your shoulder. 

“What?"

“She knew where you were?” Penny asked urgently, looking around with a protective stare. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, she encouraged you forward again. “Come on, let’s get going.”

~~~~~

Maverick’s face darkened after you finished with your explanation about what happened at the mall. Grabbing his phone, he got up from the table with a serious expression.

“I’m going to make a call,” he stated firmly. “They can’t stalk you and your child. I don’t care who the hell that they think they are in Texas. That’s not going to fly out here. That’s not going to continue.”

“Who are you calling?” you asked as Maverick walked off. 

“An old contact. I’ll be right back.”

Penny told you to just let Mav make the call as the remaining four of you remained seated at the table. You twisted your engagement ring around your finger nervously, sharing a look with Emma and Bradley, who sat across from you. 

“She didn’t try to hurt me—”

“—Doesn’t matter,” Bradley interjected quickly. “It’s creepy and it’s over the line and it’s going to stop. Now. Just let Mav make his call. He'll handle it.”

“I know,” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. “Jake is going to freak out when I tell him.”

“You’re going to tell him right away?”

“I can’t hide it from him. It might take me some time to find the words, but I have to tell him.”

Penny hugged you to her side and rubbed your back with her hand, giving you the maternal support that you really needed in that moment. You sighed and leaned against her, desperately wishing that Jake would be home soon.

“Everything will be alright. We’re going to figure this out.”

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I hope that everything is running smoothly where you are. And that you read this email sooner rather than later. 

Penny and Emma took me to the shops yesterday and when I was trying to leave the bathroom, I ran into your mother. She came up from Texas and she told me that she wanted to talk to me about you. Said something about using me to convince you to talk to her again. I told her that I wasn’t interested in that because you weren’t interested in that. She let me leave after that. 

I don’t want to stress you out or make you feel like you have to do anything when you’re so far away, but I wanted to be honest with you. Mav’s made a few calls and he seems to think that he has a solution. Don’t stress about us, just focus on your mission and coming home safely in one piece. 

We love you, Jake. And we’re safe, we’re fine. And we miss you. 

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~ 

Folding some fresh laundry in Maverick's house a few days later, you looked up when you heard your phone buzz. An unknown number was calling you and despite your hesitation, you answered it. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Honey.”

“Jake?” you whispered out shakily, holding a hand to your mouth. Moving to sit, you tried to calm yourself down and not just simply sob. “How are you calling me?”

“I have my ways,” Jake replied teasingly. Growing more serious, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Jake.” 

“I’m so sorry, Honey. She never should have been anywhere near the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” you repeated softly. “She didn’t threaten us. If anyone was threatening anyone, it was me.”

“That’s my wife,” Jake praised, causing you to smile bashfully. “But my father wasn’t there, right? It was just my mother?”

“Yeah. She said that he didn’t know that she was there, and I didn’t see him around.”

“Good. I’ll deal with them when I get home.”

“Okay.” After a moment you asked, “How much longer do you have?”

“Less than a minute. I’m sorry, Honey, I just needed to know that the two of you were okay. They thought that I was having some kind of stroke when I read your email and I managed to convince them to let me call you.”

“At least one good thing came out of the whole shitshow,” you sighed, resting a hand on your bump. “I love—”

You froze when you felt your daughter press her foot against your hand. Jake felt his heart leap into his throat when you cut yourself off and stop talking without a clear reason.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“She’s kicking,” you whispered softly.

“What?”

“Jake, she’s kicking. Our daughter is kicking!”

“She’s kicking?”

“Yes, she’s kicking,” you laughed, before your joy dimmed and tears pooled in your eyelids. Sniffling, you croaked out, “I love you so much, Jake. We love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I miss you so fucking much, Honey. And I’m so sorry that I’m not there.”

“Hangman, time’s up,” Jake heard from behind him, causing him to look over his shoulder. 

“I’ve got to go, Honey,” he replied, grinding his jaw to try and stave off the tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Bye, Jake.”

The line went dead, and you slowly placed your phone down. Holding your hand to your mouth, you finally let out your sobs. And about a thousand emotions that you'd tried keeping in ever since Jake was forced to leave you. 

Your daughter was finally kicking, but her father wasn’t here to feel her. And the thought only made you sob harder. 

Back on the carrier, Jake rubbed the tears that leaked from his eyes. 

He missed it. He fucking missed it. He missed his daughter kicking for the first time. He wasn’t there when his mother showed up out of nowhere and accosted you in a public bathroom. He wasn’t going to be there for your baby shower.

Jake had anticipated that deploying while you were heavily pregnant was going to be difficult. But he didn’t realize that it was going to be impossible, killing him slowly from the inside out. 

“Hangman?”

“I’m coming,” Jake called back, clearing his throat. “I’m coming.”

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[shadowsndaisies]

iceman's final flight

WC: 3.3k

synopsis: ice's funeral, as you can imagine, is painful and heartwrenching

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the brain rot my friends is absolutely insane.

You never liked wearing your full-service dress uniform. The whites meant shipping off, and the blacks always seemed so morose. And wearing it for Tom Kazansky's funeral, well, it was difficult to even get it on. Honestly, if Jake hadn't knocked on your door, you're not sure you would've been able to do it.

But he did.

He stood, fully dressed, and didn't say anything when he saw you still in your pajamas. Simply squeezed into your barrack and directed you to the shower. When you came out, he had your service dress laid out on your bed. he waited, back turned while you put them on, and then sat you down and did your hair. You focused on him while he did. The careful movements, the gentle brushes. You knew he had a sister, but this was much more of Jake than of Hangman.

He didn't ask you about it, even though you know he probably wanted to. He knew that your dad had been close with Ice; they'd been in the same Top Gun class, and that was all he needed to know for now.

So he helped you get ready.

He gave you a protein bar because he knew you wouldn't eat anything otherwise; quite frankly, you weren't sure you could stomach even that, but he patiently waited, watching, making sure you ate something. The blank look in your eyes was alarming because in the years he'd known you now, he'd seen your eyes get glassy with nostalgia, sadness, and heartbreak. He's witnessed the fire from anger, ferocity, and challenge; he's melted at your softness, your light; and been in awe of your mischievous streak, and cunning mind. He's never seen this, though, the blank dis-attached expression.

He guided you to the atrium where the rest of the recalled aviators were meeting before you'd all participate in the procession to the burial site. Hand pressed to your back, as you seemed to disassociate with everything around you.

Your dad was already on site when you arrived. Staring at the photo of Ice, and while he looked every inch the PACFLEET Commander that he was, you much preferred the collection of photos that you had. Polaroids and film shots from you as a toddler on his shoulders or in his lap, the collection that grew with each of your father's deployments spent in his home, of barbecues and beach days. This man helped raise you. He filled in the role of father when yours was on a deployment. He signed permission slips and stayed up with you that first night of every deployment when you were too anxious to sleep.

Goose had been your godfather, the one who you would go to if something ever happened to Mav, and then Goose was the one who was gone. And Mav changed the papers. He changed it because how could he place that pressure on Carole when she's battling her heartbreak and raising Bradley? Ice and Sarah were the ones who would assume you if he took his last flight before you were old enough to take care of yourself.

When your dad spotted you, he waved you over. You felt Jake's hand at your back reassuringly before you left the rest of the team.

Approaching your dad, you notice who is next to him, and you have to fight to not break down at the sight of Aunt Sarah.

"Ma'am," your voice cracked as you stood at attention.

There were tears in her eyes as she looked at you, "Stop, no," she corrected, arm grabbing you. "You're our girl, remember? I don't want Ma'am's, not from you, never from you," her whispers bring more tears to your eyes, and your vision swims as you try to breathe through it.

"Lieutenant Mitchell," you straighten at Cyclone's voice and turn to him. "A word before we begin," he calls, and you nod. "Apologies, Mrs. Kazansky, for the interruption.”

You squeeze Aunt Sarah's hand before walking over to the Vice Admiral, "Yes Sir," you respond, standing at attention.

"The Kazansky family has made a request," he begins, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Sir?" you ask.

"Mrs. Kazansky, has indicated that following the conclusion of TAPS, she would like the flag presented to her children," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it was my understanding that you would be presenting the flag?" you finally ask, though your voice lacks its normal luster.

"In his instructions, Tom Kazansky requested that you present the flag to his family, Lieutenant," Cyclone says, and you freeze.

He did what?

Your eyes meet the Vice Admirals, and you're not sure how to react or what to say.

"Do you accept this final order from former PACFLEET Commandar Tom Kazansky, Lieutenant?" he presses when you stay silent too long.

"Sir, yes, Sir," you affirm.

"Good. You will honor his flag, Lieutenant, assume your position," he nods to the space where you assumed he would have been, but you nod your head in affirmation.

"Yes, Sir," you repeat.

He nods once more, a look in his eyes, but doesn't say anything else, instead walking away. You took a moment to breathe, then you turned and assumed the position across from Cyclone. Your eyes focused for a moment on the coffin in front of you. The resting place for the man who helped raise you. You swallowed the lump in your throat again and then assumed a position at attention. You made eye contact with your dad, who nodded at you with glassy eyes, with Natasha, who offered a sad smile in support, with Jake, whose expression was nearly unreadable but whose eyes were focused entirely on you, and finally with Bradley, who looked like he was in a similar boat, keeping back tears and swallowing the distress in his throat. He was so much bigger, so much older than when his mom passed, but his tells hadn't changed all that much. You focus on him for a moment, and despite the rift, the still uneven footing you both have with each other, there's something there in this moment, brought on by the man who loved you both the way he loved his own kids.

When TAPS began, a chill went down your spine, a finality of what it all meant settled over you, and a tear escaped. You sniffed but remained silent. Warlock was on your left, and Cyclone was across you. You followed the motions, folded the flag, and when the ends were tucked in, you approached Aunt Sarah. She nodded with a sad smile, and you continued, stopping beside Ryan and Elizabeth. Ryan and Elizabeth, who had been your younger siblings, who you love so much, and who you used to play with in their playpens. Ryan and Elizabeth who were both married with their own kids now. They looked so incredibly sad, but as they stared at you, Elizabeth started shaking her head like she couldn't believe this was happening. And when you held out your hands, flag proffered. Ryan's hands clenched, but he waited for Elizabeth. When he looked at you for help, you cast a sideways glance at Aunt Sarah, who was crying silently now.

"Lizzie," you whisper, and Ryan's eyes blow wide.

Talking was not a part of the process, especially informally, not when presenting honors to a grieving family, but this was your family, too.

"Lizzie, take the flag," you whisper again, and this time she meets your eyes, and you nod encouragingly at her. "Take the flag, kid," you repeat, and this time, she uses one hand to hold her brothers as she accepts the flag. Ryan's other hand supports it, and if you squeeze his hand gently as you hand it off, no one else needs to realize it except him.

You step back and salute the Kazansky family, and your father steps up to do his part. His wingman until the end, you watched, arm still raised, as your father approached the head of the casket and placed the aviation wings at the head, pounding it into the casket.

His final flight.

The sound of the pin pounded in place and echoed in your ears long after the jets of salute and the sound of TAPS.

When it was over, and the civilians began to walk away, you moved to fall in line with the aviators. A space had appeared beside Bradley and Hondo. You swallowed as you stepped into it. You could feel his eyes on you as you did.

When the call for dismissal was stated, your whole body seemed to sag a bit, tired, strung out, and heartbroken.

"(Y/n)-" Bradley's the one who said your name so softly, so broken, that you almost caved. You almost caved and launched yourself at him the way you would have in the past.

Almost.

Because Ryan and Elizabeth were walking straight up to you at the same time, calling you with a wavering, "Miss Mitchell," the tone nearly reminiscent of when you were kids.

"Kid Kazansky," you greet in kind, matching his tone.

"Is it bad form to hug you now?" Elizabeth asks though she doesn't really wait; instead, she lunges at you.

You rock back a bit and feel Bradley's arm steady you before it retreats.

"Never bad form for a Lizzie hug," you whisper, and she sobs a little.

"Bradley?" Ryan's surprise is evident as he stares at the man beside you. His eyes jumped at you and then Bradley like he couldn't figure out the puzzle before him, not that you blamed him; you were having a hard time, too.

"Wait, Brad?" Lizzie asks, turning to catch as Ryan and Brad shake hands.

"You two grew up," he notes sadly.

"Well you'd know-" you pinch at Lizzie's side, she had a smart mouth, something Ice and Sarah liked to blame on you, but now was not the time, and this was not the place.

Elizabeth huffed but stepped aside to stare at Bradley, and he stood and took it while Ryan stepped up and hugged you. If he squeezed tight, you squeezed back, and when he pulled back, you could see today's toll on him.

The Kazansky kids have been prepared for this day from the moment Ice was diagnosed, maybe even earlier when you consider all the deployments, but just because it was a possibility, the reality of it was painful to experience and to witness.

"Mom wants to know if you're able to come to dinner tonight, she said to add she's not afraid to pull the grieving widow card," Ryan asks, and you smile ruefully.

"I-" you begin, but Lizzie cuts in.

"We understand, though, if it won't work," she reassures you. "Dad mentioned some special detachment as the reason you were back for a bit," she admits.

"Time sensitive and top secret," Ryan supplies, and you frown at them.

"When'd you two get so smart?" you ask with a frown, bringing a small watery chuckle out of Aunt Sarah, who'd finally walked over herself.

"Probably around the same time you did, sweetheart," she says gently, taking your face in her hands.

"I am so proud of you," she begins, and the tears reappear in an instant.

"Aunt Sarah-" you try to stop her, all too aware of how the rest of the detachment is unabashed in witnessing this moment.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Lieutenant Mitchell, but I am even more proud of (Y/n)," she begins again. "And he was too. He was so, so proud of you. And folding the flag, it was unfair of him to ask that of you, but I am so proud of you and so grateful that it was you handing it off, holding his honor," she says, and you break.

A sob slips past your lips, and she pulls you forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, mindful of your cap. "I will see you at dinner, Lieutenant. It's perfectly alright if you're late. We've spent a lifetime on the Navy's clock; we can last another day," she says finally, and you nod. "Good, bring your dad," she adds as an afterthought.

"Yes, Aunt Sarah," you nod.

"Good girl," she smiles again, still holding your face, and when she lets go, she straightens your coat, just like she did after hugging you at your graduation. She finally looks down the line at the aviators standing nearby. She starts with Bradley, directly on your left, "You too Bradley Bradshaw, I expect to see you at dinner, and I demand one song, any song," she says forcefully, staring hard until he nods his affirmation at her, lips sealed shut.

She looks down the line; you know she recognizes Yale and Harvard from when you were in Top Gun originally; the two had become your guests for poker nights and barbecues. She turns back to you, "Bring all twelve of them," she finally decides, and you hear the intake of breath beside you.

"Aunt Sarah-" you begin.

"Let's teach them who he really was, huh?" she says softly, and you nod.

"Yes, Ma'am," you agree.

She smiles, tapping your cheek one last time before turning to her kids. Each loops an arm with her, and they walk back toward their cars. The second they're away, you sag fully, all but ripping your cap off, breathing too fast; you know you are.

Bradley reaches for you first, but you flinch away, and he freezes. Nat's calling your name, and the rest of the team is lining up around you protectively. The first set of eyes you meet are green. Jake. Slowly, he shows you his hands, and one starts at your shoulder, skims down your arm, and takes your hand, pulling it into his chest.

"C'mon, 'Thena," he whispers softly, "five senses," he adds, and you nod jerkily.

Five things you can see: green eyes, Jake's ribbons, Bradley still hovering beside you, the grass, the jet trail in the sky

four things you can touch: Jake's dress shirt, the cufflink of Jake's coat, his hand, which is holding yours in place, the chain of your dog tags around your neck.

Three things you can hear: distant chattering of all the funeral attendees, Jake's gentle affirmations, Hondo on the phone

Two things you can smell: Bradley's cologne, the fresh dirt, and topsoil.

One thing you can taste is blood from where you'd bitten your lip during the ceremony.

You take a staggering breath at the end and let go of Jake, who straightens beside you and waits for your next move. He allows you a moment to continue evening out your breathing.

"Two feet on the ground, right?" he asks.

"Copy, you," you confirm.

He nods, satisfied by your response.

You finally look around at how the team had shuffled to keep you out of sight from anyone else. Yale and Harvard are sending you concerned glances as they stand guard.

"I'm fine," you tell them, waving off the concern. "I'm fine, it was just too much, at once, but, I'm fine," you say, readjusting your cap back on your head.

"Maybe you should take a minute, Athena," Bradley cuts in.

"I said I'm fine," you negate.

"Just take a breath! Do your box breathing-"

"Box breathing? Are you serious Bradley?" your tone finally loses the flat edge it's had all morning, giving way to incredulity. To his credit, his eyes blew wide at it. "Box breathing hasn't worked since I started pulling Gs regularly," you scoff. "I said, I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine!" he argues, the two of you facing off across each other now.

"And how would you know?" you challenge, voice dropping back to a reasonable level, but suddenly so cold. "How could you possibly know what fine looks like for me now?"

He freezes again; it's a direct dig, more so than any of the wave-offs you've done when he tries to talk to you since you both got reassigned.

"If Athena says she's fine, then she's fine. I'd take her at her word any day," Harvard cuts in, and you look at your friend gratefully.

"Seconded, c'mon, we can give you a lift back to base," Yale agrees, and you nod.

You spare another glance back, focusing on Jake. He nods at you, though you can see the concern in his eyes, and you nod again, turning and walking in line with Harvard and Yale.

"My saviors," you whisper to them.

"It's a hard day, and the absolute least we could do," Harvard offers.

"You're getting softer with age, Brigham," you chirp, but there's no heat behind it.

"Speaking of soft," Yale hedges, and you side-eye Logan. "Hangman knows about your anxiety attacks?"

"Not only does he know, he knows how to talk you down," Harvard supplies.

"Don't," you warn them.

"Today is hard, we know. We know it's going to be hard for a long time," Harvard back peddles.

"We just… we wanna look out for you Athena, you always did for us, you still do," Yale clarifies. "Look, Hangman's a cocky bastard-"

"I believe Phoenix was the one to coin the term Texan Douchewad," Harvard supplies.

"But," Yale sends his WSO a look, "it's obvious, he's different with you."

You were content to ignore the prodding, but Harvard stopped, handing over the passenger seat door. He planed to open it for you but pauses and holds out a hand.

"Just hold on a second, please," Harvard asks when you start glaring at him. You huff but pause. "Look, today… today sucks, but seeing him help you makes him suck slightly less in my book. You're the only person he didn't ditch during the dogfights. We assumed he was brown-nosing because Mav's your dad, but obviously there's more there. Ice was… he was so much more than PACFLEET Commander to you, we know that. We've seen what you and he were like together. I consider myself really fucking lucky that you trusted us enough to share that shit with us, and clearly Hangman knows it too, but he hasn't made a single Nepo-Baby joke the entire detachment," he lines out, and when you drop his gaze, he sighs.

"Athena, we learned day fucking one at Top Gun that you are a force and a half, we have always got your back, we just… we need to know the play is, that's all," Yale tags on.

You lift your gaze and stare at the two; Brigham and Logan were the only Aviator/WSO team that got recalled. Payback and Fanboy hadn't worked together before, nor Phoenix and Bob, or even Fritz and Halo, just them. You're stuck on how well they know each other for a second, and you are so glad they got called back, too.

"The play.. the playbook is on fire," you admit, and they share a nervous glance. "It's in a fucking dumpster fire, with jet fuel poured on top," you tell them, and they wince. "But, the plan is we go back to base, we finish the day, we go to dinner. I'll probably cry my fucking eyes out, so hopefully, one of you will bring tissues, and then tomorrow we go back to work because Ice died, but the clock doesn't stop, and he'd be pissed if I let Jake or Bradley make Team Leader over me," you huff out.

It hurts so much because his phrasing would have been over my dead body will you let cocky aviators walk over you, but he is dead.

You just buried his body.

That doesn't change the point, Kiddo.

Your heart clenches at the response because it even sounds like Ice.

Ice cold, no mistakes, the voice continues.

"Ice cold, no mistakes," you repeat softly.

"Then that's the play," Brigham nods, finally opening the door for you.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891

[wdbhgrry]

my top gun headcannons!

1. every sunday, the entire ‘86 group and the daggers have supper at ice and mavs, and without fail slider always manages to show up an hour late

2. growing up, whenever bradley was sick, he would crawl into ice and mavs bed and fall asleep with ices hand rubbing his back

3. mav invited the daggers to a barbecue at his and ices house, but only said his house. this is how they all found out that not only was he married or bisexual, but that he was married to the compacflt

4. the first time ice met phoenix, he took one look at her and said “maverick, are you sure she isn’t yours?”

5. ice and carole were super close, and would have constant “maverick” talks (a book club, but instead of a book it’s maverick they’re discussing)

6. penny and phoenix are super close, and she often helps out behind the bar whenever it gets too busy and penny can’t keep up

7. bradley calls penny “aunt pen” and she would constantly bail him out of trouble at school when he was a teenager (this is for my inner penny stan)

8. maverick was the one who taught bradley how to play piano, even though everyone assumes it was ice

9. in ice and mavs house, they have a wall that’s just photos of everyone

[outalongtheedges]

Goose on Film pt2

Part 1 Masterlist

The big photo albums that Goose kept all of his pictures in, took up the majority of the bookcases in the Bradshaw's study, lining at least the two bottom rows. Goose on Film Volumes 1 - infinity for all Ice cared. He never really bothered to count them, cause whenever he had tried to, Goose had produced another one, adding it to the shelf after making a whole show out of it. Goose would get out the projector and made all of them sit in his living room while telling them a story about each and every one of the photos he's taken for this album.

Ice would be lying to himself and everyone he knew if he didn't admit that he at least enjoyed those evenings just a little bit. In fact he loved them, together with everyone he cares about, Mav by his side laughing and smiling.

Today was another evening like that, celebrating Goose on Film volume 30-something. Mav's last mission, him and Bradley smiling and laughing as they had made it out alive, BBQ at their place last summer and much more.

Ice stared at the cork board with a faint smile, looking at the things Goose and Carole had deemed as important enough to hang up on there. Two post-it notes, one with an airplane Goose had tried to draw that came out looking more like a fish, the two photos he had to steal back from Mav and Slider's wife, a negative to a picture of him and Mav from the 90s and of course their entire pride and joy, a picture little Brad Brad had drawn them. Not being able to draw planes seems to run in the family.

Ice smiled like he only did in private, looking at all the memories the Bradshaws had kept over the years, their entire house a testament to a life full of memories worthy of being stored out in the open.

Goose on Film Vol. 5, open on the floor, first page showing Mavericks sloppy all caps handwriting in a pen that had already seen its best days by the time Goose made his husband write the title with it. The photo to the negative that was on the cork board, gleamed at him in mint condition, like it had never been touched or seen the light of day. Maverick never seemed to look at the camera when he was so most of the photos they have together are of either him or Mav looking at anything other than the camera pointing at them. Nothings changed there.

Sometimes Ice doesn't know which exit ramp on which highway he took to end up here, but he won't question it.

"Ice come back! Carole's getting the ice cream!"

His smile grew, bidding the albums and the cork board a last goodbye. "Until next time", Ice whispered and turned back around to his family.

Listen I know I promised this thing to you guys at least a month ago, I apologize. My apprenticeship is beating my ass right now, time wise mostly. Thing is I've also been writing on an icemav ff. I'm not going to promise you ppl any time frames, cause I know it won't work out, but it'll come.

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your honeymoon includes everything you want: pink champagne, paradise, and your husband. Is it possible to become addicted to spending time with Bradley? You are more than willing to find out. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, and swearing

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You woke up to warm sunlight on your face and an empty bed. "Roo?" you called out, your voice still rough from sleep. You didn't know where your phone or your glasses ended up as Bradley had helped you get in bed last night. You had been so tired after the bath with him, you had apparently fallen asleep right away. 

When you rolled out of bed, you squinted until you found your glasses and phone on the dresser. Once you had your glasses on, you opened a cute photo that Mav had sent of Amelia playing with Tramp. Jake had texted you as well. 

Jake Seresin: Make sure you're drinking enough water, Angel. And make sure you stretch. Don't want either of you hospitalized from a sex related injury.

You rolled your eyes and set your phone down and went in search of your husband. After you loosely tied one of the robes around your waist, you headed out onto the deck where you found Bradley on a lounge chair in his underwear and aviators. 

"Roo?"

He turned and looked at you over his shoulder with a smile on his face. "Morning, Sweetheart." He let his legs slide off both sides of the chair so his feet were on the deck instead, and he patted the spot between his thighs. As you walked closer, you noticed he had been writing in a notebook.

"What are you doing?" you asked, kissing him as you settled on your knees between his legs. Bradley's hand was immediately on your thigh, stroking his fingers up close to your panties.

"Making some lists."

"Lists for what?" you asked, leaning closer to kiss him again. "You shouldn't be working on our honeymoon." You swiped your tongue across his bottom lip, making him groan. 

"You're right, Baby Girl," he replied, about to set the notebook on the deck, but his writing caught your eye.

"Wait, what are you writing about the mortgage? And your pension?" you asked, guiding his hand closer so you could read more.

He pulled his aviators lower on his nose and looked at you over the frames before running his fingers along your cheek. "Just trying to make sure I get everything ironclad. In case something happens to me."

"Bradley," you whispered, your heart dipping in your chest. The pension. The mortgage. He wanted to make sure he was taking care of you. Just in case. "Bradley."

"I know, Sweetheart. But this is important to me. I don't want there to be any issues, you know..." When you nodded and kissed him softly, he added, "You'll have my accounts, my pension, the house, everything. Just in case something happens when I'm deployed. I already added you to my savings account, but I'm going to take care of everything else now that we're married."

You could feel tears pricking your eyes. "I understand. I still don't like thinking about it." Carefully, you took the notebook and pen away from him and let them drop to the deck. 

He swallowed hard. "I'm never going to leave you, okay? But if something does happen, especially if we have kids... I just need to know I did everything I could to make that shit easier on you. That's all. I love you too much."

You let your hands rest on his shoulders as you leaned in to kiss him. "You make me feel so good, Bradley. Important."

"You're the most important," he promised, reaching for your hips underneath the robe. 

You grinned against his lips. "You wanna know how important you are to me?"

"How important, Sweetheart?" he asked as you straddled his hips. 

"Well, Bradley, I love you so much, I'll add you to my car title. Just in case anything ever happens to me."

He groaned, taking his hands off your body and leaning away from you. "That's cruel! Literally so mean!" he complained as you laughed. But when you wiggled yourself on his lap, he pushed his aviators back up on his nose and reached for the sash of your robe. "Now come here and show me how much you really love me."

As Bradley pushed the robe down your shoulders, you glanced around, but all you could see was dense foliage and lattice partitions all around the deck with a view of the beach on the far side past your private pool. "You think anyone can see us up here from the beach? If we leave the partition open?" you asked, turning back to him as he stroked your breasts. 

"Do you care?" he asked, a very smug smirk on his lips. He knew you didn't care. He knew you'd probably get wetter at the thought of someone seeing what you were getting up to. You and he had been indulging each other in this way for more than a year, and you knew he'd do whatever you wanted. 

"No," you replied, yanking his boxer briefs down until he was free of the fabric. "Not at all."

Bradley pulled your underwear gently to the side, and you guided yourself so you were taking his tip and then all of him. You rode him nice and slow, his mouth on your breasts and his hands on your butt as you rolled your hips. 

His tongue and lips and teeth teased you until you were moaning his name and jerking up and down on him faster. You were so close, your clit rubbing just right against him when he fucked up into you, hard.

"Bradley!" you shouted, cumming and crying out as he grinned at you. Your legs shook as he fucked you harder. When you caught your breath, you said, "You didn't even cum yet!"

"No, now turn around."

You had a lovely view of the beach as Bradley fucked you from behind, making the lounge chair scoot loudly across the deck until he came inside you. "Oh, fuck!" He grabbed your butt roughly as he filled your pussy. "God damn." And then his lips were on your rear end, your thighs and your hips as he told you how pretty you looked for him.

When you felt his mustache on your lower back, he said, "Honeymoon sex just hits different."

You laughed as you stood up and shimmied your underwear completely off. As your panties dropped onto the notebook, you kissed Bradley and said, "Thank you for taking care of me in every way."

Then you watched him pull his underwear off as you jumped in your pool, and a moment later he was in the water with you.

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

By the time Bradley got you out of the villa and into the golf cart, he was famished. Starving. If he didn't eat soon, he didn't know if he'd have the energy to fuck you again, and you were already looking at him like you wanted more.

"Baby Girl, let's get brunch. Maybe some mimosas, a couple of beers, and then we can go back to bed."

You kissed his stubbled cheek as he started up the golf cart; he wasn't intending on shaving during the honeymoon at all. "Maybe hit the beach later, too?"

"Anything you want, I promise. I just need to eat."

He kept getting obnoxious texts from Jake about staying hydrated and being a good husband. But Jake had no idea what a handful you could become when you felt like it. Bradley really thought you must be ovulating, because you had that look about you, like you could go ten rounds in a row. But if anyone was up to the challenge of keeping you satisfied, it was Bradley. 

"You packed my wedding shoes, right?" you asked as he parked near one of the restaurants. 

"Yeah," he grunted, adjusting his pants as he helped you down from the cart. He watched your short dress skim your legs as you walked ahead of him. 

"I could put them on when we get back."

He didn't know how it was possible, but now he thought he was ready to go another round, too. Food would ensure that he was ready. "You'll wear them for Daddy?"

"Oh, is Daddy going to play with me later?" you asked, not bothering to keep your voice down at all as the host led you to a table past other patrons in this five star restaurant.

"He sure is."

You ran your foot along Bradley's calf while he ate enough food for three people. And while you sipped a mimosa, you leaned on one elbow, pressing your tits together with the most innocent expression on your face. Everything you did, intentional or not, was designed to keep him addicted to you. But when you did things like that on purpose, he almost lost his mind over you. 

"You feel better now, Daddy?" you asked, and Bradley's eyes were on your tits. You wanted him to take you back to the villa, he knew you did.

"Much better. Let's explore the resort, Baby Girl."

You pouted for a minute, but once you and he walked out on the patio and toward the beach, you squealed with delight at the view. "Let's walk along the beach," you urged, pulling Bradley with you. The resort was expansive, and Bradley counted seven different pools that you passed as you walked at least a mile before heading back to the golf cart. 

He had the fleeting thought that he could use a nap as he drove the golf cart in the direction of the villa, but your hand was inching up his thigh. When he parked out front, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you onto him so you were straddling his waist. 

"Bradley!" Your surprised laughter and lips on his neck made his cock twitch with anticipation, nap forgotten.

"Daddy wants to see you in those shoes," he whispered, and you looked at him with wide eyes. 

"I have something else I want to show Daddy. Give me sixty seconds," you replied, climbing down from his lap and running toward the door, unlocking it and pulling your dress off before you were even inside. 

Bradley groaned, counted to sixty, and followed you in. And then he found you standing next to the bed, wearing just your white high heels that lace up your calves and a pair of tiny white satin underwear. He could see the top of your Rooster tattoo above the expensive fabric.

"Daddy?" you whispered before biting your lip. Your tits looked gorgeous, and he could tell by the way you were wiggling your hips you were ready to go. He was ready to go, too. But he'd indulge you first. Then you turned around, and Bradley realized you were the one who would actually be indulging him. 

"Fuck," he groaned. Your white panties said Daddy's Baby Girl across your ass. You arched you back and planted your hands on your hips, looking back at him over your shoulder. "Go over to the bed, and bend over."

You did as he told you, your steps elegant and graceful in your high heels. When you bent over, your breasts brushing the bedding, you spread your legs for him. 

"Daddy's Baby Girl," Bradley grunted, running his fingers along the letters, making you gasp. He spanked you softly, moving his hand lower and lower until he was spanking your satin covered pussy.

"Oh my god!" you whined. "Oh! Bradley!"

"I'm Daddy," he replied, spanking your ass a little harder. 

You moaned softly, pressing yourself back against his hand. "Daddy!"

Bradley tipped his head back. You were soaking through the fabric as his fingers traced along your pussy to your clit. He spanked you there gently until you were crying out for more. Bradley knelt behind you and licked along your ass through the underwear before pulling them down to your knees and lapping at your wet pussy. 

"You gonna be a good girl for me? Or act like a brat?"

Bradley could see your pussy clenching before him as you whimpered with need. "Whatever you want, Daddy."

He wanted it all with you. He stood and took his phone out of his pocket while you whined for him. He took a few pictures of you with your underwear around your knees, your shoes laced up your legs, and your ass and pussy on display. Those would become something that would get him through a deployment, he was sure. 

Then he unzipped his pants and pressed himself against your backside as he leaned down so you could see his phone screen. "Do you see how fucking perfect you are for me?"

You looked at his phone and then over your shoulder at him. "Yes, Daddy," you gasped, bumping yourself back against him. 

"Now be a good girl, and you can have anything you want."

Bradley dipped his cock inside you, making you buck before he pulled out and painted your ass with your own wetness. He did this until you were babbling nonsense, and he smiled. 

"Please, please, please," you chanted, bumping back against him and Bradley spanked you until his palm was tingling. Then he ran two fingers through your dripping slit and shoved them in your mouth.

"Shhh, I told you to be good." You sucked on his fingers quietly, and then Bradley knelt again. He licked you clean, running his tongue all over your ass and stroking your pretty shoes with his fingertips. You had been reduced to sweet, soft little noises as he ate your pussy with his face buried in you. He took his time, wearing you out as your legs started to shake for him. You buried your face in the bedding, muffling the sounds of your orgasm, but Bradley could feel it on his tongue. 

He finally eased your panties the rest of the way down your legs and helped you step out of them. Then he patted your rear end where he was sure you must be sore, and you turned to look over your shoulder at him, the impressions of the bedding marring your cheek and forehead. 

"Thank you, Daddy," you whispered as he wrapped his fingers gently around your necklace chain and pulled you up as you gasped. He pulled until your back was flush against his front, and then he released the chain. Carefully, he took your right hand in his and guided it back so that you were touching his cock.

"It's Daddy's turn."

You palmed his length and moaned. "I love you, Daddy." 

Bradley ran his mustache along your ear, kissing you softly there. "You're gonna keep those shoes on and ride me real good." You nodded as Bradley took his own shoes off and got himself undressed. When he laid back on the bed and crooked his finger in your direction, you came crawling across that bed like such a good girl. Like such a good wife. You straddled his waist and leaned up to kiss his lips. 

"Can I make you cum inside me? Get you to fill me up? I want you to be a Daddy in every way, Roo."

He took your chin roughly in his hand so you met his eyes. Your gaze was open, unguarded, and he could feel you guide yourself down on him, taking his cock inside you as he whispered, "Baby Girl. I want you pregnant. I want to know I did that to you."

Your lips parted as you started to move your hips, riding him so perfectly. Bradley knew he had it good. You were everything. He sat up, easing you back as his chest pressed against yours. He grabbed your ass and thrusted until he was so deep inside, you cried out. He ran his fingers along the ribbons adorning your calves. "These are so pretty." 

He took your nipple in his mouth as you arched your back and bounced on him. Your eyes were fluttering open and closed, and he was so fucking deep inside you. This was everything he'd dreamed about: making you his wife and hopefully making all the sex count toward a baby.

"You're perfect," he whispered. "Tell me what you want."

You giggled as he mouth returned to your tits. "I want you to cum inside me."

"Yes. What else?"

You gasped as he sucked hard. "I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"Of course. What else?" He would honestly give you anything you asked for that he possibly could. 

"I want you to love me forever!" You were smiling as his lips found yours as you continued to ride him expertly. 

"I already do. What else?"

You giggled again before you gasped. "I want some pink champagne!"

Bradley eased himself back against the pillows, bringing you with him. "I'll get it for you," he grunted as you latched your lips to his neck, grinding down on him. He reached for the phone on the nightstand and pressed the number for room service. 

"What are you doing?" you moaned, but there was already someone answering his call. 

"Hi," he grunted into the phone. "Can you bring us a bottle of pink champagne?"

You sat up with your palms planted on Bradley's chest and whined his name as you fucked him. 

"Sir, I'm not sure if we have pink champagne?" came the voice through the phone. 

"Good girl," Bradley whispered to you as you worked your hips in circles. Then louder, he said, "It needs to be pink. Bring me five bottles. Charge it to the room."

"Sir, I'm not sure-"

"Just do it," Bradley growled before ending the call. You giggled and moaned at the same time as the phone ended up on the floor. 

"You just called room service while you were inside me!"

"Yeah," he rasped, running his thumb along your clit and watching you get off on him. "My wife wants something, she's going to get it."

"Ohhh," you moaned, clenching around him as he stroked you. "Daddy."

"Fuck," he groaned. "Keep saying it."

You leaned down and kissed his ear, treating him to the sounds of your orgasm mixed with you calling him daddy until he was filling you up with his cum.

"Daddy would do anything for you, Baby Girl. God, married sex just hits different."

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

You both barely made it into your robes before someone was dropping off five bottles of pink champagne in individual ice buckets. You giggled uncontrollably as Bradley lined them up on the coffee table and just looked at them. "Went a little overboard, didn't I?"

You wrapped your arms around him and shook your head. "It's not like we won't drink all of them. I just can't believe you ordered them while we were fucking."

He kissed the top of your head. "Hey, nothing's too good for you, Sweetheart. You're always so capable, I kind of get lost when you let me go into Daddy Mode. You start whining, and I want to solve everything for you."

"God, that's hot," you whispered, kissing his stubbled chin. "Are you going to shave?"

"Wasn't planning on it," he replied, and you watched him pop one of the bottles. 

You had visions of riding his stubbly face dancing in your head as you took a sip of champagne from the bottle. "Good."

The two of you ended up eating sandwiches on the deck for dinner while you finished the bottle. "Do you think we'll ever stop fucking long enough to explore this end of the beach?" you asked, and Bradley laughed next to you on the lounge chair. 

"We've only been here for two days. I'd say by day five, we'll probably need a break."

"Speak for yourself, Roo," you said, winking at him. "I'm ready to go again."

He groaned as he chewed his food. He looked tired, and you knew you'd need to let him go to bed early tonight. But even with the adjustment to a different time zone, you weren't tired at all. And you were so horny, it was surprising even to you. Honestly, you'd been feeling like this since you stopped taking your birth control pills. 

When you took the last sip of champagne, you looked at Bradley. You did the math quickly in your head and determined that you were probably ovulating. That must be why you wanted to fuck his brains out nonstop. Or maybe it was just because he was your husband who looked stupid sexy with his tattoo and that gold wedding band on his finger. 

You kissed his hand, letting your lips graze his ring. "What if I put on your favorite set?"

His eyes went a little wide as he pulled you closer. "The red ones?" he rasped, and you nodded. 

"Yes, Bradley. The red ones."

That was all it took. As soon as you changed into your red lingerie, your husband was all over you. He fucked you hard into the mattress, your legs spread wide as he said, "Tipsy on pink champagne sex just hits different."

You thought you could become addicted to the feel of his cum dripping down your legs. He kept you full almost nonstop as the two of you fell into a routine. Sometimes you ate in one of the restaurants, and sometimes you got room service. Sometimes you had beer, sometimes you had a bottle of champagne. 

But you started to venture down to the beach during the day. When the heat from the sun got to be too much, or when you simply couldn't keep your hands off each other, you made your way back up to the private pool. You let Bradley fuck you on the edge of the pool as he untied your bikini top. Sometimes he wanted you doggy style, quick and dirty. Sometimes he wanted to lay you out on the deck and rub his stubbled cheeks along your body before he took you slow and sweet. Sometimes he was undressing you before you were even back on the private deck.

It was perfect. Decadent foods and drinks and nonstop time with your husband. Half the time the two of you skipped clothing, knowing it would just be in the way later. And every afternoon, you fell asleep in the sun, curled up on Bradley in the lounge chair while the sounds of the waves and the music from the main pool drifted up to your villa. 

"You need more sunblock," you told him one morning as you dressed in your black bikini. You and he were about to make your way to the beach bed he had reserved for the day, but he was starting to look rosy from all the afternoon naps outside. 

"Bring it with us, Baby Girl. Then I can rub it all over you as well," he said, sneaking up behind you and rubbing his rough cheek on your neck. 

You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and run out onto the deck, but he followed right behind you, chasing you to the beach. 

"I want to feel your rough face between my legs, Bradley! Not on my neck!"

He grabbed your elbow to slow you down and said, "Then let's get back in bed." His eyes were glittering with promise, but you shook your head. 

"Listen Roo, if you wake up tomorrow with me on your face, you just do as you're told, okay? Right now, I want to cuddle with you on the beach."

The beach bed was really just a cozy, oversized lounge chair with soft cushions right near the water. It was covered by a canopy that would keep you cool, and keep Bradley from looking like a lobster. Each side had curtains which could be opened or closed for privacy, and there was a butler who would run around and get anything you wanted. 

"Come here," Bradley whispered, and you curled up next to his side with your head resting on his chest. "I love you, Baby Girl."

The water looked beautiful, and once you each had a drink in your hand, you told him, "I'm impressed that you picked this resort." And after a few more drinks, you told him, "I want you," as your hand drifted down to the front of his swim trunks.

Bradley grunted as your fingers untied the drawstring and dipped into his bathing suit. He reached for the sash to let one side of the curtains fall closed. "You know what? If the butler comes back and sees us, it's his own fault. He'd wanna fuck you all day too if you were his wife."

"Bradley!" you said with a laugh, but he was already pulling your top to the side and kissing your bare breasts. After he pulled the other curtains closed, He untied your suit bottoms and removed them. "I was going to give you a blowjob," you whispered.

He shook his head as he flipped you onto your hands and knees. "My cum belongs inside your pussy right now. Don't waste it."

You moaned at his words as he rocked into you, filling you up. There was a slit in the curtain, and you could see other resort guests walking around, laughing with drinks in their hands. You could see waiters and staff hustling back and forth across the sand. You could hear conversations and music. All while your husband fucked you full of his cum with your tits hanging out of your bathing suit. 

Once Bradley tied your suit bottoms back in place, you could feel the mess dripping out of you. And you eased him back onto the cushions with a smile on his face and knelt between his thighs. But instead of tucking him back into his trunks, you licked him clean of your wetness and his cum. He groaned and leaned back as you took your time, licking up every bit of mess from his softening cock while he grunted your name and stroked your tits.

"So pretty," he whispered, watching you intently. "Can't keep my cock out of you."

You moaned around his tip, enjoying the way you tasted all mixed up with him. "Beach sex just hits different," you told him, earning a brilliant smile as you tucked him back in his bathing suit. And then the butler returned as you fixed your suit top, smirking at both of you as he handed you more drinks. 

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

Bradley smiled as you sipped a rum punch from your perch on the beach bed between his legs. He had opened up the curtains again after getting his fill of you, and now the sun was dipping lower on the horizon. 

"You should slow down, Sweetheart," he told you as you finished your drink. "I'm going to want to fuck you again later, but not if you're drunk."

Your face lit up at his words. "I want you to fuck me when I'm drunk, Roo. You never do."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "It's just, getting consent is a gray area then."

You kissed his cheek. "You're perfect. Really, Roo, you've never once made me feel uncomfortable about sex."

"Well, that's important to me."

You kissed his lips; you tasted like rum. "You waited until I was ready to be with you again after Josh. You never made me feel any pressure, and that was on top of your deployment, Bradley. You waited weeks and months for me."

Bradley pulled you closer and held you tight. He hated thinking about Josh touching you. It made him sick that you had to deal with that while he was away. But Bradley supposed that was where your close friendship with Jake started to take root, so it wasn't all bad.

As you pressed your lips to his rough chin, you said, "We should both get a little tipsy. I'm giving my consent right now: I want you to fuck me while I'm drunk."

Bradley groaned. "As long as you can still tell me later that that's what you want." He signalled for two more drinks, and soon you were a giggly mess, splayed out on the beach bed, nearly spilling out of your top. 

"Bradley, do you remember when I had sex with other people?" you asked with a laugh, pulling him closer to you.

He'd had quite a few drinks, but he was still confused as he froze. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Your face was placid and bathed in orange sunlight as you laughed. "Oh, you know, like ages ago."

"How long ago?" he asked, now needing a very clear picture of what you were talking about.

You just waved your hand in the air. "Ages," you moaned. "Now all I want is you." 

"You mean like before we slept together?"

"Yes, Roo," you said, cracking up. "I had so much bad sex! Really terrible!"

He took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss you. "Good."

"Mmm," you hummed. "You're good. Now let's put our feet in the water."

The two of you stumbled along the edge of the water, and you rambled on about every topic under the sun before you started kissing Bradley as if the two of you were alone. Which you were not. There were other couples around, and the beach was filling up with people who wanted to watch the sunset. 

"You need to behave," he warned. 

You shook your head sadly up at him. "I'm afraid I don't know how."

Bradley laughed, and then you laughed, and he realized you were both pretty drunk. But he wanted to make sure. He whispered next to your ear, "If I take you back to our villa after we watch the sunset, do you still want me to fuck you?"

Your loud moan had him sealing his lips over yours to keep you quiet. "Please!"

So Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and let his chin rest on your shoulder as you both watched the sun dip lower. Every press of his lips to your neck had him wanting you more and more, and he couldn't help but think you'd been right about the two of you drinking together. 

"You make my dick so hard," he promised you, focusing on your breathing and the way your tits looked as he rubbed his hands along your hips from behind. You were a million times more fascinating than the most beautiful sunset. 

You reached back to rub his leg and simply said, "I know, Roo." Good, he wanted to be transparent in his continual lust for you. The more you knew he wanted you, the better.

"You still want me to fuck you?"

In an instant, you spun around in his arms. "Yes. Let's go to bed."

Bradley's head was spinning a bit as you and he rinsed off in the outdoor shower where you sank down to take his cock in your mouth. "You gotta let me cum in your pussy," he whispered, and you giggled. 

"You're obsessed, Bradley," you whispered, running his tip along your lips. "Obsessed with breeding me."

He pulsed in your hands, and he hauled you to your feet. The two of you managed to make it inside to the bed without drying off, and Bradley started licking the water droplets from your legs and hips. He sucked on your tattoo while you had the drunken audacity to tell him, "I want you to breed me."

And then he was fucking you while he said, "I want you big and pregnant. God, you'll look so good. I wanna do that to you, Baby Girl." You looked delighted with yourself, and apparently the thing about drunk Bradley was that he felt like he could go and go. You leaned up and licked his tattoo, goading him on as you came for him, but Bradley wasn't even close yet. 

He flipped you onto your stomach while you were still moaning for more. You ass looked so pretty, and you were so responsive as pressed his face to you, kissing and liking your round cheeks before spreading your wetness around. He dragged his fingers and mustache through your wet pussy, coating your other hole as you begged.

"That feels so good," you promised. "Keep going."

Bradley grunted, making you messy and cleaning you over and over from your pussy up along your ass. 

"Oh my god, Bradley," you whined. "Your mustache!"

"Feels good?" he asked, licking you from his facial hair as he fucked your pussy with his thumb.

You kept propping your hips higher in the air, giving him even better access to all of you. "So good. Are you going to fuck me again? Fill me up?" you asked, shaking yourself at him, and he groaned.

"Gorgeous." He dragged his thumb back up and pressed it to your other hole while he slid his cock back home inside your pussy once again.

As he fucked you hard and gently penetrated your ass at the same time, he said, "Tell me you want this. Or I'll stop."

"I'm gonna cum!" you screamed, squeezing around his cock as you rocked back for more of him. "Don't stop!"

Bradley came hard as you cried and hiccupped, the tip of his thumb inside you, while he filled you with a load that he hoped would knock you up. 

"Drunk sex just hits different," he groaned, so satisfied as he wrapped your boneless, fucked out body in his arms and let you kiss him all over his face.

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

This honeymoon is everything. I love how much they are exploring things together and how happy they are. This series is nearly over, and I thank you so much for reading along! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

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[pollyna]

au in which the whole '86 class celebrates the last of Ice's edibles with a sleepover that the Daggers crush when Bradley takes them over to Mav's house. After the first half an hour of pure chaos and people asking how many admirals he calls uncles and how many of them call him baby Goose, Omaha asks, but where's Mav? and Slider starts to giggle so much that he cries, and Merlin follows him, and within ten seconds they're all laughing.

"It's a funny story" starts Admiral Neven "a life time ago, Mav was so drunk he could barely walk straight, and Ice was tipsy."

"Iceman is never tipsy!" Admiral Williams intervenes.

"Exactly! So Mav wanted to see the stars. He took Iceman's hands, and they spent hours out on the deck, but we had to go back because we had a hop at seven, and nobody had the guts to go outside because we thought they were finally getting some! Then Merlin gets up and says he is going to do it, and we all follow him—just to actually get outside and find two idiots whispering like kids and kissing, all still dressed up and more sober than an hour before. After that time, if they get drunk or even tipsy, they disappear, and you can always find them in a garden or a patio! When baby Goose was little, he used to sneak behind them and cuddle until he fell asleep" the Admiral finishes, pointing at a photo of the three of them, in the exact same situation he just described.

Bradley, seated between Admiral Kerner and Wells, smiles and says, "Ice used to pick us up after we fell asleep and take us in bed.

By the time Ice and Mav are back in, hours later, all the elven Daggers are sitting around Hollywood, who's telling them wild stories, and, considering how red Bradley's face is, they are almost certain they know what tale their friend is sharing.

[ohmygodtheywereparabatai]

i wanted to invite a conversation about this because it’s genuinely been bothering me for a long time. and i in fact wasn’t immune to it either and am just now realizing this is the power of cinematic brainwashing.

but like, tgm is so many bad things. sexist, racist, ageist, to scratch the tip of the iceberg. token characters that meet the bare minimum for diversity, and sidelined women - i’d even say exploited women. a narrative that is so egocentric that it’s miraculous that some characters manage to hold their own instead of being swept under the charismatic magnetism of the reckless bad boy character who can get away with murder because deep down, he’s regretful, and he has a good heart.

what a shallow representation of the military, and what a disservice to those who were inspired to join because they thought the real life experience would mirror even a fraction of what is presented on screen. the reality is that there was never a competition to win a top gun trophy, and in fact today you have to pay 5$ at the top gun school if you even mention the film. that speaks for itself.

tom cruise being a huge part of the production process has made it impossible for me not to hold him responsible for the choices that have been made. to even subtitle the sequel movie with “Maverick”, the same protagonist as in the first one, comes across as insanely egotistical - and honestly a testament to how mav’s story manages to drown out the autonomy and validity of other characters. i’ll explain this terms of ice, penny, carole, and charlie. you’ll notice how i’m gonna be bringing up three women.

ice-

i don’t care that val kilmer gave the okay on using his cancer as a plot point. i care that cancer was not only used as a plot point, but treated like this ^

“i’m dying. you have bigger problems.”

the original script seems to peel back the layers of tgm’s intended messaging, so i’m using several examples. this is what is being communicated. i honestly don’t know what else to add. in or out of context, this is incredibly disturbing - and that it’s played as a self-aware quip from ice, even more so. the bond of wingmen goes both ways, and i just didn’t see that… if anything, that aspect leaned so heavily on the first film (the photo of them smiling at each other) that it just proves my point. it took ice’s death for mav to get up off his ass and do something to keep his career afloat besides get a cop-out from the compacflt. ice in the first movie was a compelling antagonist and voice of reason - now he’s mostly relegated to the role of babysitter, denying mav’s character the growth of accountability by simply erasing his poor choices with a phone call.

it’s why the darkstar scene pisses me off. to stop at mach 10 would have been fine, but to push it just for the sake of it is ridiculous. the fact that earlier mav states “i know what happens to everyone else if i don’t” in regards to his decision only makes this screw-up more laughable, because to me it’s the very contradiction of maverick: his intentions do not balance with his actions. costing the military millions of dollars in a few seconds somehow balances with his heartfelt desire to protect the interests of its workforce.

penny-

shortly before, during, and after this screenshot, i counted a total of 6 times that penny made it clear she would not appreciate mav’s advances. regardless, mav goes on to say “you look good”. this flirtation happens before mav is even aware of her marital status, as he asks amelia “where’s your dad?” in a later scene… which… dear god.

penny also says “it always ends the same with us, so let’s not start this time”, indicating this is a repeated pattern in which her boundaries weren’t respected and moreover, the relationship ended up failing. yet this is framed as the main romance of tgm, a wonderful and nostalgic callback to the original that ends as stereotypically as possible.

i love penny. she’s witty, caring, independent, and of course stunning. so i find her treatment in tgm a disservice to what started out as a rich and compelling character. she later ends up mav’s shoulder to cry on, more or less, comforting him after losing his wingman and his position as instructor. the song “hold my hand” is thematically suited for penny, playing in the background at the bar and in the notes of the score during her scenes - even musically, she is turned into a source of consolation first, and her own woman second. she’s his prize at the end of the film, falling for the promise “i’m never gonna leave you again”, which i don’t buy for a second. they fly into the sunset, presumably signifying a new horizon for their relationship - but i feel so dissatisfied with this arc for her and think she deserved much better.

that mav gets away with this behavior is something i’d like to see more people reflect on. it seems to be a pattern with male protagonists, in which case the function of male and protagonist in hollywood cinema needs an examination.

carole-

top gun (1986):

this is an especially crude exploitation to me. not only is carole the one consoling a young maverick (if a full-fledged 24 year old can be called young, in light of the tendency people have to dismiss his choices in ‘86) after his mistake costs her own husband his life… but her stance, even following a tragedy of that magnitude, didn’t change. goose would have flown anyway, and she knows that well enough - on top of that, it’s easy to see she would have supported him.

it came as a surprise to me that she wouldn’t in turn support her own son, who is clearly committed to a career as a pilot. in the end, i see a cheap narrative device that contradicts carole’s character, undermines her strength as a wife and mother, both in order to serve the interests of the plot. maverick in tgm needs a viable reason to hide a secret, to be tortured by his own consequences, to put further strain on his tension with bradley. there were plenty of other ways to do it, but the fact that it was this leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

charlie-

it’s my understanding that tom cruise’s personal reason (his excuse) for not bringing back charlie was that he didn’t like how their relationship ended. if there’s any source confirming or denying this, i’d appreciate a link.

anyways. yeah. this is… a huge problem with hollywood at large, which kelly mcgillis understands, but i’ll break it down. there’s a simpler reason this pisses me off more than anything. tgm’s entire subject matter is about repairing relationships. penny benjamin was dredged out of obscurity to do it. maverick and rooster’s grudge of 30+ years was used to do it. iceman’s character, as warped as he feels, is another way the film made this its theme. but charlie is out of the question?

that val kilmer could be asked to return, and make an insane amount of money for each second he’s on screen, but such an opportunity is never given to kelly mcgillis, who herself centers on the 1986 poster, speaks volumes to me. tom cruise even planted his foot when it came to reprising iceman, saying he wouldn’t do this movie without val in it.

it’s worth mentioning that viper and slider were also present at ice’s funeral, but this scene was cut out. for a film that’s quite heavy-handed with its nostalgic callbacks, this was an odd decision. until realizing, as my friend put it, that even ice’s death couldn’t be about him, whether it had brought in his own teacher or his rio - his goose. it had to revolve around mav, to catalyze a turning point for him in the plot.

also… a shoutout to the erasure of sarah kazansky, pretty much everywhere. that also tells me a lot.

…

this was just a dissection of the various character portrayals (or absences) in tgm that have bothered me since forever. this isn’t even going into how tgm accomplishes everything that propaganda sets out to do. combinations of stunning visuals, soaring music composed by masters like hans zimmer, the charismatic power of a cast packed with stars… all play a role in the blinding awesomeness of tgm, which has taken me this long to break away from.

consider the white/poc duos in the film: maverick and hondo, hangman and coyote, cyclone and warlock. who has more lines? who plays a greater role? why is that?

i don’t see this as real diversity. it masquerades as inclusion, which i find worse. and to cast an actor of asian descent, and give him the callsign yale? … wow.

framing is powerful. its influence in cinematography is unmatched. a story is being constructed and told not only through dialogue, but sound, visuals, editing… really, nothing can be dismissed as insignificant. i’m not asking for a scholarly interrogation of all media you consume, though, that would be so excellent, and so healthy… but i am trying to raise these questions in the community, of what gets lost when a main character is so overwhelmingly main. when someone like tc has so much control over the decision-making process, since it’s sort of a running joke that maverick is a tc self-insert. my focus isn’t the inclusions, but the exclusions.

and finally, since i’ve unfortunately spent a lot of life writing this post… it’s interesting to me that many viewers in hindsight seem to see top gun 1986 so differently. as kids, they sided with mav over the antagonist. an older audience returning to the first film now seem to side with iceman, seeing him as the rational one attempting to raise important points. i wonder if this will be the case with top gun: maverick in the future. in which case, i’m excited to see more cyclone fans. he’s my favorite character… unsurprisingly.

oh. one last thing.

“the man, the myth, the legend” … the word myth has two meanings:

…

happy reading.

[callsign-peach]

A Very Bradshaw Wedding

summary: it’s your and bradley’s big day, from sunrise to sunset

pairing: established rooster x fem!reader (obvi), platonic!dagger squad x reader

warnings: i’ve only ever been to church weddings so if you’re not a fan of church weddings, sorry. 

word count: 2,175

The opening tones to the Marimba ringtone pulled you from the slumber you were enjoying, and you blindly grasped for your phone. 

“Hello?” You groaned, your voice was still in the dream world.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“No, that’s not my last name yet!” You stretched, phone pressed to your ear. “I only signed the paperwork yesterday, the court definitely didn’t get them yet.”

“Well,” Bradley breathed, and you were sure he was still lounging in his bed, as well. “I considered you my wife as soon as we signed the marriage license last week.”

“All right, you got me there, B.” You chuckled, trying not to pick at your well-manicured nails. “What time are you supposed to head to the church?” 

You could hear Pete and Jake trying to get your fiancé to hang up, so you knew your sister would be knocking on your door soon. 

“‘Bout fifteen minutes, I think. Mav wants to get photos of the guys and I in our formal attire.” 

You snorted, picturing Bradley and his fellow aviators in their formal uniforms. When the topic of what the aviators were going to wear came up, you teased Bradley relentlessly. “Trying to steal my thunder, Bradshaw?” 

“Hey, the guys are about to pound the door down, I’ll see you at the end of the altar.” 

“See you in a few, I’ll be the one in white.” 

“Not the only one.” Bradley quipped, and you could hear the smile on his face. “I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

You replied the same, not bothering to comment on your surname this time. 

As you hung up the phone, the door to the hotel opened, and your sister and Penny piled into the room, Amelia following.

“Good morning, it’s your wedding day!” Your sister was already weepy, plucking a Kleenex from the box on the bedside table. 

You thanked Penny for the coffee, the familiar green and brown cup helping wake you up. “What time do we need to be at the church?” 

“Hair stylist said to be there by 10, but we need to leave soon for breakfast!” Amelia was first to reply, the teen was only up before nine on a weekend if there was food on the horizon.

You nodded, slipping on a pair of leggings and the zip-up with bride embroidered across the back; a gift from your Aunt Jeanette after you posted your engagement photos on Facebook.

“Is Nat meeting us there?” You asked, grabbing your phone and purse, following Penny and the others out of the hotel room. 

“Nope, she’s probably waiting for the Lyft.” Amelia replied, and you smiled.

You weren’t one to have a ton of friends growing up, so the three women joining you for breakfast were your bridesmaids, with your sister as your Matron of Honor.

“Let’s go!” Amelia lead the way out to join Natasha at the waiting Lyft. --- “You ready to be the first married man out of us?” Rueben asked, tossing the football over to Bob.

Bradley looked up from where he was staring at the wedding itinerary, distracted. “Hm?”

“Not even a married man, already distracted by the missus.” 

“Fuck off, Bagman.” Bradley replied, no sour tone behind his words. He and the blond aviator had become close friends, with Bradley asking the Texan to be his Best Man a few months ago. 

Rueben repeated his question, and Bradley nodded, smile on his face. “Surprised it took this long, honestly. Knew it as soon as I first met her she was the one.”

The men of the dagger squad all teased the mustached man, yelling when Pete walked into the room and caught the football. --- “Oh! You look so good!” Your sister was near tears again, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I’m not even dressed yet, sis.” You looked at your reflection, the makeup artist having finished a few moments prior. 

“Remember when Mom would let us try on her wedding dress when we were younger?” You asked. Bittersweet memories of your late mother had been popping up ever since your sister’s wedding four years ago. 

“Come on, time for dresses!” You were thankful for Penny’s distraction before you started to cry, not wanting to ruin the beautiful makeup. 

Rather than having each woman wear a specific dress, you asked them all to find dresses in matching colors, a light blue to complement the groomsmen’s formal blues. 

“You sure you’re okay not wearing your blues?” You asked Natasha, not wanting her to feel minimized by wearing the dress.

“Trust me, I never get to go out to formal events in anything other than my formal blues, I need this.” Natasha smiled, giddy to get dolled up for the day.

You squeezed her hand, letting her go change in the bathroom.

“Have you found your something new yet?” Penny asked, knowing smile on her face.

You were one for traditions, and you wanted to make sure you had all four “somethings” on your wedding day. 

You had your something blue; a patch one of Bradley’s old navy blues had been sewn into your dress. Your something old was the Bradshaw engagement ring, passed to Bradley from his mother, and his mother’s mother. 

Something borrowed was waiting to be adorned to your updo, your sister’s hairpiece from her wedding day. 

Shaking your head, you began to wonder what the older woman had planned. “No, but I’m using my wedding band for that.”

“Mav and I wanted to chip in, make sure you had all you needed before your trip down the aisle.” Penny pulled a long, Tiffany blue box out of her purse, a dainty gold chain with a simple diamond on the end. 

“Pen, I can’t! This is too much!” You had tears welling in your eyes, softly shaking your head. 

“Oh, hush. It’s the least I can do, getting Rooster to stop moping at the bar.” Penny latched the necklace as you held your hair up, her slender fingers patting your shoulder lightly. 

You smiled at her in the mirror, thankful for her maternal presence on such an important day. “Thank you, Pen.”  --- Bradley twisted his cuff links once more, nerves starting to get the best of him. “What’re you thinking, Rooster?”

The aviator looked behind him, smiling at his mentor and godfather. “Hi, Mav.” 

“You ready for this?” Pete asked. The ceremony was set to start in just over two hours, so all the men were prepared to get the wedding photos done. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Bradley nodded, but the older man could tell something was pulling his attention. “I just wish my parents were here.”

Pete sighed, knowing parents were a sore spot for both the groom and bride. “They’re here, Bradley. They’re here and they’re proud.” --- You stared at yourself in the mirror, now adorned in the white dress you had your eyes on ever since Bradley got down on one knee. 

Amelia, Natasha, and your sister were already getting their photos done with the groomsmen, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

A knock on the door tore you from your reverie, and you looked in the mirror to see Pete pop his head in. “Wow.” 

“Hi, Mav.” You smiled, one hand going to your neck. “Thank you for the necklace. It means more than you’ll ever know.”

Pete smiled, softly closing the door behind him. “It’s the least we could do.” 

You closed the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around Pete in a hug. “Thank you for being there, for both of us.”

Pete rubbed a hand over your laced-up back, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Come on, they’re ready for the first look.” 

You followed Pete down the steps, and out to the small garden behind the church, where you would get a first look at your soon-to-be husband.  --- Bradley was antsy, and he almost spun around when he heard the soft click of heels on the stone beneath him. “Hi.”

“Hi, B.” You whispered, tears springing to your eyes. “Ready to become my husband?” You whispered, afraid speaking at full volume would ruin this special moment.

“I’ve been ready ever since I laid eyes on you.” Bradley replied, squeezing your hand behind him. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, eyes watering. “Never thought I’d be okay with my groom wearing white, too.”

Bradley let out a watery laugh. “Everyday is full of surprises.”

“Okay, okay. Before I burst into tears and ruin my makeup, we need to get ready for the ceremony.” You squeezed Bradley’s hand once more, before he heard the sound of your heels retreating. --- The music slowed down considerably after your sister reached the end of the aisle, taking her spot next to Amelia. 

You took a deep breath, looking up at Pete as appeared next to your side. 

When you first asked Pete to walk you down the aisle, he was speechless. He wasn’t one to think of himself as a father figure, not after he pulled Bradley’s papers, but he was proven wrong when you stopped him after you met up with the aviators at The Hard Deck one night. 

“You promise you won’t let me trip?” You asked, wrapping your hand around Pete’s arm.

“So long as you promise you won’t trip me.” Pete replied, stepping up as the opening notes to Canon in D began. 

You started the procession down the aisle, smiling at your family, your friends, and Bradley’s family as you walked, but they all blurred as you made eye contact with Bradley. Your Bradley.

Before you knew it, you were across from him, navy whites making his tanned skin pop. 

“Hi.” You whispered, smile tugging at your lips. 

“Hi.” Bradley replied, smile already spread across his face.  --- You heard hollering and hooting from both the groomsmen and audience as you kissed your husband for the first time, his shiny new wedding band cold against your back.

“We’re married!” You mumbled along Bradley’s lips, kissing him once more.

Bradley laughed, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you two turned to walk down the aisle, Bradley raising his newly-adorned wedding band into the air.  --- “Now, I present to your for the first time,” you heard the emcee pause for dramatic effect, and you bounced on your heels next to your husband.

“You ready?” 

“Give it up for the Bradshaws!”

You and Bradley tossed open the doors to the reception hall, smiles bright as you took in everyone here to celebrate your big day. 

You never would have pictured yourself with a military man, surrounded by so many other uniforms and people who you considered a second family. The hollers, cheers, and applause caused tears to spring to your eyes once more, though you doubted it would be the last time. 

The music slowed as you two stopped on the dance floor, facing each other. 

“Remember, men lead with their left because ladies are always right.” You whispered, teasing Bradley with the line your dance instructor said while you two started taking lessons for this moment. 

As you two spun, you smiled at the faces you recognized and the ones you didn’t, rolling your eyes as Jake pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. --- Finally having a moment to yourself, you sipped the white wine in front of your now-finished dinner. The first dances had been a whirlwind of emotions, and the speeches were some of the best. 

“Hey,” Bradley stopped next to you, glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“Hey yourself, Mr. Bradshaw.” You wrapped your arm around his waist, reading over a few of the notes on the Polaroids that guests had taken.

“Finally escape from Emma and Louise?” Bradley asked, teasing you about your younger cousins being stuck to you like glue.

“They got distracted by Jake’s war stories.” You smiled, pointing at a Polaroid of Pete and Penny. “Their turn’s next.” 

Bradley laughed, nodding along with you. “Come on, it’s almost time to cut the cake.” --- You thanked some of the final guests as they departed from the reception hall, promising they’d text you when they made it safely to their hotel.

“Have fun on your honeymoon!” Your aunt Delores squeezed you tight, happy to see you with the man of your dreams.

“But not too much fun!” Delores’ girlfriend teased. 

“Oh, hush!” You felt your cheeks heat, ushering them out to their waiting taxi.

Bradley was finishing off his second slice of cake when you reappeared, grin taking over his face. “Come here.”

Curious, you met Bradley halfway, conveniently stopping on the previously heavily-occupied dance floor. “What’s up, B?”

“Can I have this dance, Mrs. Bradshaw?” 

Not caring to mention the lack of music, you wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck, soft smile on your face. “I love you, Bradley. Thank you. Thank you for making me the happiest woman on the world.”

Bradley smiled, pressing his lips to yours, humming softly as the two of you shared a last dance. --- a/n: send requests pls :( 

[blazingstar29]

Top Gun Work Outs - Goose

Well well well, everyone’s favourite (dead) RIO. Sorry this took so long life got busy but Goose has been in my head since day 1. It’s pretty obvious that despite Anthony Edwards working out for the film he didn’t stack on the muscle like the others. BUT I’m here to talk meta and make inferences so reality doesn’t matter to me lmao.

Disclaimer: in this series i talk about characters body composition and the exercises they do. Particular in this instalment there’s a little bit of a focus on weight so if this is triggering please give it a miss :)

It’s fairly obvious Goose is pretty lean. In the photo above there’s next to know additional muscle in his arm. What’s interesting though is that he still has a broad back despite not having any muscle. That comes down just to the natural conformation of someone but also may be a sign of Anthony’s efforts of working out that he built his lats up a bit.

as his bicep flexes we see some muscular definition.

But the reality is Goose is quite lean. And we see that from multiple angles that he’s not lean and buff in the way Slider is, but almost more of a runner or cyclist build. (More likely cyclist because it’s low impact and I’ll explain more why.)

And you might be thinking, what are you going to talk about? Well steady on. Being buff is all well and good but I’m think in the the broader universe.

Anthony Edwards is tall. He’s 6’4 tall. Y’all ever wondered why those crusty little dogs live forever but Great Danes don’t? The bigger you are the more your body has to work. Wether it’s pumping blood or your joints, tall people wear out.

Goose probably knows this. He spends his days in jet planes going mach 2. That’s a lot of pressure of the body. And although Goose is pretty agile, as seen in his stellar leap into the air above (and consequentially getting his foot stuck in the net)

He has a young family with a son he wants to play catch with. He doesn’t want to add extra strain to his joints. Especially because orthopaedic surgery wasn’t what it is today. Even arthroscopes that were pioneered and popular (at least in australia) are now falling out of fashion because ‘cleaning up the joint’ actually added more problems.

So whilst Goose isn’t skinny and looks like he could be pushed over by a breath of wind, he isn’t carrying any extra mass than he has to.

And this is something I noticed with Slider too, but it felt more prevalent with Goose.

This photo is just for those who want him; I thought it’s be appreciated. Also slider basically one millimeter from lying in goose’s lap lmao.

Exercises:

Cycling! Low impact, good cardio. Mav follows him on his motorbike when Goose goes up hills and shouts encouragement but Goose just throws his water bottle at him.

Swimming. Again, low impact but he doesn’t swim as much as Ice, he’d have a bit more muscle if he did it multiple times a week.

Hiking. I see those calves mr edwards. And, fun family activity too!

So yeah, that’s what I make of goose!

[sorchathered]

Heard it through the grapevine

A/N- SNB Chapter 8 is coming on Wednesday, but to tie you all over here is a one shot of what’s been going on with Bradley in the aftermath of Mirage’s pregnancy announcement. Thank you guys for sticking with me on this journey!

Pairing- Bradley Bradshaw x OC (Mirage/Erin Riley)

Warnings- language, drinking, Bradshit being an idiot

Summary- Bradley is hungover as hell the morning after Mav’s wedding, what the did he get himself into overnight?

————————————————————————-

Bradley had fucked his social life up to the highest degree in the past 6 months but even he had to admit this shit took the cake.

He’d gotten completely trashed last night, after months of trying to get sober, because his biggest insecurity played out right before his eyes. He’d be an idiot to deny he’d never been worried about Jake getting in the middle of his relationship over the past few years, the man had an ego the size of his home state and he wasn’t bad to look at either. But you had always insisted it was platonic, never given him a single reason to doubt you, yet it somehow never stopped the jealousy that bloomed in him when he saw the two of you together. It was stupid really, he’d been the one to cheat on you in the end and burn everything he’d thought he wanted to the ground, but watching your former fiancée make out with the guy he’d always worried about and then get whisked away to no doubt fuck each others brains out stung a little. So he did what he knew best, drown himself in bourbon and promptly pass out at home, or at least that’s what he thought had happened.

He woke up the next morning feeling worse than he had after that rager in his frat house right before graduation, every step had him convinced he was going to throw up everywhere but his tiny french bulldog was a force of nature and she was insistent that they go outside. He was half dressed in his suit from the night before, no idea where his phone could be but that was a worry for future Bradley, right now he needed aspirin and coffee. Still trying to piece together what had happened in the aftermath, it looked as though he’d made quick work of destroying the leftover pizza and most of the lasagna he’d made earlier in the week, clearly couldn’t be bothered to close the fridge as the damn thing was wide open when he entered the room. The last of his expensive bourbon was gone, and it looked like he was out of beer as well. What a mess. As he set about to clean things up he heard his doorbell go off, then someone beating on his front door, what the hell could possibly be this important on a Sunday morning? He grumbled all the way to the entryway, flinging it open to find his best friend Natasha Trace looking even more pissed off than normal, clearly he’d fucked something up judging by the rage on her features.

“I’ve been calling you for HOURS! What did you do just fall off the face of the damn planet?!” She said as she elbowed her way into his living room, he didn’t have the energy for this he was sure but there was no point in stopping her now.

“I was asleep, and honestly I don’t know where the hell my phone went, I’m hungover as fuck right now Nat so can we just skip to the part where you tell me what I did wrong and yell at me?”

She rounded on him and he staggered back, a little nervous until he saw the look of pity across her face. “Bradley we need to find your phone, but first I need to show you something.”

He was going to pass out, he was sure of it. As she scrolled through her instagram to the profile of the girl he definitely shouldn’t still be sleeping with he was almost hopeful that she’d decided to move on from him and posted a new boyfriend, but he knew he couldn’t be that lucky and after all she had just been at his house earlier in the week, if she was seeing someone else she would’ve told him. Right?

What he most certainly didn’t expect was to come across a set of photos, pictures the two of them had taken and never posted because it didn’t seem right, and at the end a picture of a onesie and a positive pregnancy test. Oh he was definitely going to be sick.

Nat had shoved him into the bathroom to shower while she made a pot of coffee and Bradley was frozen in place as he watched the bathroom steam up. How the hell had he let this happen? Why wouldn’t she have said something to him before posting about it? He picked up his phone and looked at the photos again, he did like Mirage despite the circumstances that had started their entanglement, she was funny and very pretty, impulsive yes but he wouldn’t have thought she’d do this to him. He opened his texts to message her, they needed to sit down and discuss this in person, but as he opened them he realized just how drunk he’d been last night. There in the messages were all the answers he wanted, she had in fact told him first and he had told her to go for it about posting the announcement. He was such an idiot, how did he let himself get this way? He needed to piece together the rest of his night and fast, so he shot her a quick message to come over and jumped in the shower. He didn’t know how to fix this, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it this time.

Nat was furious with him, she’d found out through Stormy about everything leading up to their breakup and now finding out that he’d somehow green lit this pregnancy announcement while black out drunk had her fuming. “Do I need to pack you up and send you to a rehab facility Rooster?! What the hell has been going through your head lately?” She was shaking her head between death glares, in his entire navy career he’d always had Nat, since they met in training as young kids, and she’d never been angrier than she was right now. “I know Nat, I know I fucked it all up, but I can’t change it now. All I can do is sit down with Mirage and see how to go forward with this, I-I’m going to be a dad…Holy shit how the hell am I supposed to do this? What if I fuck this kid up? What if I-“ she puts her hand up to silence him, he’s spiraling now and that’s not going to help anyone.

“We are going to work this out ok? Just take a breath, we also need to find you a better therapist because this guy is obviously not teaching you anything beneficial.” She wasn’t wrong, the guy clearly just phoned it in and received his paycheck, Bradley had been going through the motions but not making any real progress. It was times like these he longed to have his parents around, maybe then everything wouldn’t have gotten so out of control.

Within the hour Mirage was at his door, Bradley let her in with a small smile and gestured for her to sit down, but when she saw Natasha she wavered; looking back at Bradley like a deer in headlights. “Relax Erin, I’m not here to whack you, I’m just moral support.” She says with an eye roll, and the girl, albeit irritated, finds a seat on the couch. “So I take it from your texts you drank a little too much last night, I had a feeling you’d be upset after the wedding but I didn’t think you’d forget our conversation entirely” she was frustrated, he knew she would be, especially considering how important that conversation was. “Look, Erin I know I keep fucking it up. I’m a mess, I never should have dragged you into it in the first place but here we are. I’m going to try at this, and you give me all the hell you need to because I really do want to make this work. If you want us to be a real family we can work at it, or if you just want me to co-parent I’ll respect your choices, but no matter what got us here I’m not going to keep letting you down.” He knew he didn’t have a right to promise anything, and he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t make a mistake again, but he knew what life was like without a dad, and he couldn’t let that happen to his child. His child. He was going to be a father.

——————————————————————

Before he knew it 6 months had passed, He and Erin had been going to couples therapy on top of seeing a new therapist for himself and Bradley could say with confidence he’d been sober for all of it. He wasn’t going to the bar like he used to, instead choosing to come home in the evenings to binge tv and cook dinner with his girlfriend. They had found out just last week that they were having a little boy, Nicholas Bradshaw jr. and truly Bradley couldn’t believe how well things had been going.

He’d been transferred to the Golden Warriors, still working out of North Island but no longer actively working with the Daggers, and while initially it had hurt he knew it had been for the best. His relationship with Jake had boiled over into his work life and he agreed that it was best that they work apart. Life was going well, which usually meant the other shoe was about to drop but he was feeling pretty confident. Until one fateful evening when he received a call after work from a distraught Maverick, Stormy’s plane had gone down over the Atlantic and she was in critical condition. Jake and Admiral Simpson were heading to Walter Reed in Maryland to meet her and they didn’t know when or if she’d wake up. He didn’t know what he could possibly do to help, and without realizing he had already dialed the number of his old wingman. No answer, which he expected but he left a voicemail of support nonetheless. Whatever happened now all he could do was pray that the kindest girl he’d ever met would be ok.

————————————————————————

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @floydsglasses @shanimallina87 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @djs8891 @mrsevans90 @pinkdaisies9285 @nouis-bum @86laura11 @angelbabyyy99 @dizzybee03 @mygyn @jostan456 @dempy @its-the-pilot @kmc1989

[oh-surprise-its-me]

I watched some rodeos today so that means I desperately need to write about 20 year old non pilot Jake being a cowboy and terrifying his New York dads. (Here’s prequel to this fic)

-

Chris, David, Wolfman and Lucas are all up on the fences watching. They all are used to this kind of thing. Oh the joys of growing up in Texas.

Tom, Ron, and Hollywood are in the stands. They all keep flinching when people get tossed. Tom’s nails are digging into Ron’s arm. He gasps every time someone lands wrong. He can’t believe they let their kid do this.

They’re in Vegas. All things considered a fun trip. They all took vacation time for this. Promised that if Jake used his fake ID they won’t call him on it. This is the final day of four for the rodeo.

Jake’s good. Too good. Ron can’t stand to watch him most days. Terrified that their kid is going to slam his head and not get back up.

Lucas promises him that he’ll be over the fence first before anyone else can be. Ron supposes an ER nurse is better then the paramedics they’ve got on ground.

-

Jake is hopping in place. He can feel the energy of the stadium, he watches them put the bull in the corral, Hell Maker is his name. Jake slides his helmet on and climbs the fence. He settles on the bull.

He hears the announcer.

“And now. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. He’s one of the best twenty year olds competing he’s got a real chance at winning this Frank.”

“You’re so right Shawn. His father rode in Texas circles, Chris Seresin is in the crowd tonight. We’ll remind y’all listeners that the Seresins have a long history in riding rodeo.”

Jake shakes off the nerves. He knows he’s best. He can make it twelve seconds. Has to.

-

As he’s flying through the air it’s in slow motion. He made it nineteen seconds. He beat the records in place. Jake is going to make his dads buy him so many drinks tonight.

He slams into the ground. He tucks and rolls. He leaps up and takes off for the siding. Makes it over right at the bull slams into the wall.

Suddenly Jake is being held in the air. He shrieks, David and Wolf have him on their shoulders. Chris and Lucas are standing grinning up at him. Chris opens his arms and Jake jumps down and into them.

“Baby you did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Jake sees his pa and tata make their way over to him. He’s surrounded by everyone suddenly. He’s so overwhelmed. He has to blurt it out now or he’s going to explode.

“I think this is going to be the last pro competition I do. Gonna go to med school.” They all stare at him for a second. “I’m not going to stop riding. Just no more getting thrown off intentionally.”

Ron is the first to react. “Chickie thank god.” He scoops Jake into a hug. Tom hugs him from the side. Chris plucks the hat off Jake’s head and kisses his hair.

He’s then passed to all of his uncles. Lucas looks like he might cry. He holds Jake’s face for a second. “You’ll be incredible.” Jake grins at him. “Wanna be a nurse like you. Help people.” Lucas lets the tears go down his face now. David loops his arm around his neck.

Jake is grabbed by Hollywood and Wolfman, Holly is grinning at him. He passes over two hundred bucks. “What the fuck?” Wolf blushes. “We made a bet on which career you’d follow. Decided you’d get the money no matter what happened.” Jake laughs. He grabs the two of them into a hug.

A photographer comes over and asks to take a photo of Jake with his dad. Chris smiles and agrees. Women still practically faint for him at points. Ron and Tom smile at the two of them. Jake is every bit his dads son.

Jake ends up getting a trophy. He’s proud of it but is even more proud of the money he wins at slots two nights later. All of them insist he cheated. He didn’t he’s just lucky.

-

In his thirty’s he talks Bradley into going to the rodeo, Bradley thinks it’s insane that Jake’s dads let him do this. Jake points out Mav and Goose had Bradley up in planes when he was definitely too young.

Bradley leans over while they watch the kids rodeo, “our kids are never doing this.” Jake stares at him. They’ve barely talking marriage. Fuck, Jake wants kids with Bradley. He flushes, “okay. They’re learning how to ride horses though.” Bradley nods. He presses a kiss to Jake’s head. “Anything you want sweetheart.”

[gennyanydots]

One Year Old Wingman

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x f!reader

Part of the Spitfire Universe

Christmas was your favorite holiday. You loved finding the perfect presents for people. You loved seeing all the lights people put up. You loved all the decorations everywhere. Your whole apartment was decorated. You were so excited once everyone else started to celebrate too. (You started the day after Halloween)

You’re especially excited for the Dagger Christmas party. This was your second year coming to the Dagger Squad Christmas party with Bob. Last year even though you had known everyone for almost a year you still felt a little weird going to the Christmas party. It was a new experience so you were ever so slightly uncomfortable. Bob said it was a white elephant but so many people did them differently.

This year however you were sooooo excited. You knew what you were getting into. You understood how their white elephant exchange worked. Plus you had the best gifts.

The gift exchange rules were that everyone brings three presents. The more random the better. Then everyone picks out one gift from the pile and opens it. You can trade presents but each present can only be traded three times. Once it’s been traded three times whoever ends up with it keeps it. Then it starts again. Sometimes the presents were bought with certain people in mind and sometimes they weren’t. There was a $20 limit on the presents. It was also decided that kids were excluded so they could get all the presents imaginable from their adopted extended family. Which meant Eli was about to be in heaven. Plus you heard that Grandpa Mav got him an entire platter of chicken nuggets just for him.

Last year had been pretty funny. You’re pretty sure you remember Rooster ending up with a lacy nightie and Payback going home with a Christmas cat sweater.

When Bobby picked you up you skipped to his truck with your gifts in a bag and a tray of cookies and homemade chocolates in your hand. You made a ton of fudge, Oreo balls, and so many Buckeyes since everyone had loved them last year. Nobody had heard of them before you brought them and now they were everyone’s favorite because who wouldn’t want a sweet peanut butter ball dipped in chocolate to look like a Buckeye? They’re the best Christmas time treat and a long standing tradition in your family.

On the drive to Maverick’s hanger Bob tried to swipe something off your tray at least five times like he hadn’t had at least one of each of the things last night when you made everything. He was your official taste tester, something he took very seriously. Every time he tried though you smacked his hand and glared at him. The whole tray has to at least make it in the door.

And it did. However the second you walked in Bob took it from you and the whole dagger squad was on it in an instant. You just rolled your eyes. It wasn’t like you didn’t have whole containers at home filled with more treats. Bobby knew about the containers but he didn’t care. It was more fun this way.

The party was fun. Lots of yummy food. Lots of singing along to Christmas songs old and new.

Soon it was time for the present exchange. Jake ended up with one of your gifts, a photo frame with a bunch of scratch lottery tickets. He guarded that with his life. His wife rolled her eyes at him. Fanboy ended up with another one of your presents, a candle you found that came in a tin that says “I love you for your personality but that dick is a huge bonus.” Payback got your third gift, a Snuggie. He immediately got it out and wrapped himself up in it. Someone had put in pregnancy tests, you’re pretty sure it was Jake’s wife, and Mav ended up with them. Poor guy just looked confused. Rooster ended up with a swear word coloring book with crayons. He almost missed the third round because he was coloring. Bob got a yodeling pickle. You ended up with a ugly Christmas sweater skirt. All in all it was a really fun time.

You all watched as Jake and his wife helped little Eli open his presents. He was so excited to get so many new toys. You and Bob got him a piano floor mat which you have a sneaking suspicion that Rooster is going to steal it from Eli one day and see if he can play ‘Great Balls of Fire’ on it. You saw him eyeing it when Eli opened it. Coyote got Eli a pair of aviator sunglasses. Eli hadn’t taken them off yet, clearly wanting to be cool like his dada.

After all the presents were opened everyone was just hanging around and spending time together before everyone parted ways for leave to visit family and friends. You were chatting with Jake’s wife and Phoenix. Eli came toddling over to the three of you. All three of you started to coo over him telling him how cute he is. It didn’t occur to you that he had changed onesies until Jake’s wife picked him up and turned to you.

“I think Eli has a question for you, babe,” She says and hands Eli to you.

You look at her confused and take Eli.

“Read his shirt,” She says winking at you.

You hold Eli out a little bit in front of you to get a better view of it, “‘Will you marry my Uncle Bobby?’ Huh?”

Jake’s wife smirks at you and takes Eli from your hands while Phoenix turns you around to see Bobby down on one knee holding out a velvet box. Both of your hands immediately cover your mouth as you stare at Bob.

“Eli is cuter than I am. He makes a good wingman,” Bob says with a chuckle. “So baby, will you? Please?”

You start nodding your head afraid to say anything because you’re pretty sure you’ll start sobbing.

Everyone cheers as Bob stands up. You practically throw yourself into Bob’s arms who catches you easily.

You kiss all over his face repeating “yes” over and over again while a few tears leak from your eyes.

Bob grins and holds you close before pulling away to grab your left hand to put the ring on your finger.

You knew Christmas was your favorite holiday for a reason.

[outalongtheedges]

Goose On Film

Part 2

“Oh so that’s where that picture went”, Maverick mumbled more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Not that the others would’ve cared much about what he had to say about an old picture on a corkboard in the Bradshaw’s study.

“Interesting. I thought I had lost that one”, Slider’s wife suddenly said beside him. “Should’ve known Goose took it back.”

Maverick nodded before reaching up to take the picture of him and Ice off the board. He’s had it inside of his wallet for the better part of 10 years before he had ‘lost it’.

“What do you think you’re doing there, Maverick?!”, Goose slapped his wrist before he could reach the picture. “It’s mine!”

Okay so to be fair Goose did take the picture and he also paid for them to be printed out but it still was a picture of Ice and Mav. So it made sense for Maverick to have it, right? Slider’s wife seemed to have been thinking the same thing judging by the way she eyed the photo of her husband.

“I know what you’re thinking, Pete Mitchell! Don’t even try it. It’s an important piece in my ‘Goose on Film’ series.”, Goose continued to argue with his best friend. “You got more than enough pictures of you and that blond bastard, don’t you think?”

Maverick rolled his eyes. He could never have enough pictures of him and Tom. Not in a million years could he have collected enough of them. And that picture in particular had been taken on Carole’s birthday in ‘92, and if you know anything about Carole’s birthday parties then you’d understand the significance of that photo. That Goose even managed to take a decent one of them was astounding.

Yeah okay Mav was looking down, reading god knows what and it was a little blurry, but Ice managed to look into the camera as if he’d never done anything else but model in his entire life.

“And you!”, Goose suddenly turned over to Mrs Kerner that had her fingers on one of the thumbtacks holding up her husbands picture, “Don’t even think about it! I’ve been to your house, the walls are full of pictures of Slider and his ugly mug!”

“But not this one. Look at how cute he looks…”, she looked the photo dreamily.

“I don’t know about Slider and cute.”, Goose and Mav said at the same time, questioning looks on their faces.

“Oh come on! You guys know what I mean!”

They did know, Goose and Mav could stare at their respective partners for hours and call them every term of endearment under the sun and wouldn’t get tired.

„Come on Goose!“, Maverick whined pointing at the picture. „Let me have it back. It doesn’t look nice enough for your photo books anymore anyways.“

„What exactly did you do with yours, Pete?“, Mrs Kerner asked with a raised brow, looking sceptical as ever. „Looks like you crumpled it up.“

„I had it in my wallet? And then on my plane.“

„You know what you’re right. They’re both in horrible condition.“, Goose sighed exasperatedly, „I still have the negatives. Take them and treat them horribly! No respect for my art!“

Slider’s wife took the picture down triumphantly and folded it up the way it probably had been for years. So did Mav, staring lovingly at the photo he had stared at every time he went up in his plane.

„You two are paying for the new prints I have to make!“

„Of course Nick, honey. I’ll pay for it“, Mrs Kerner chuckled and Maverick nodded along.

All of them knew they wouldn’t pay for the prints, not that Goose would care.

———

Masterlist Part 2

Another silly little manip and this time with a story?? I’m treating you and myself (mostly myself) with this one aren’t I?

Let me know what you lovely people think ✨🎈💕

Remember be nice and respectful, have a nice day and a good nights sleep.

[sharkjumpers]

Mav took a really good photo of Bennett Puppybong and I that had a really poetic detail but none of you get to see it because Bennett and I are pathologically averse to posting photos of ourselves so let me make a recreation

[sunlightmurdock]

Katie, congrats on your milestone !! <3 I don’t think that sub rosa Bradley would ever actually be this ballsy—lest Iceman might literally kill him—but please indulge me for a second 😂 I can’t stop thinking Bradley fingering lil Kazansky under the table at a family dinner because she’s been teasing him all day before they had to go to her parents’ house. The whole family is there along with Mav and Penny. Bradley’s hand slowly creeping up her thigh, discreetly making its way under her dress and making her breath hitch, nearly choking on her drink, his movements painfully slow so as not to alert anyone of what’s going on, but also to punish her for teasing him, and stopping right before she can reach her high and leaving her a flustered mess :)

- @sugarcoated-lame 🥰🫶🏼🫶🏼

She’s a tease at the best of times but this past weekend, when all of them have been invited to her father’s lake house for the Fourth of July weekend — she has been an absolute menace.

Asking him to reapply the sunscreen on her shoulders, pushing her ass back against him as he had.

Looking him dead in the eyes, ice-cream on her lips, being extra slow to lick it back off.

Falling into bed last night wearing not a stitch of clothing, claiming that it would just be too warm otherwise — knowing that these old beds creak and her family were right down the hall.

Today, he has been avoiding her as much as he can and being an excellent future son in law. Her mother is really starting to warm up to him, and Mav always tries to vouch for his good character so that’s a bonus too.

Becoming an expert at this game now, Bradley makes it impossible for her to get him alone all day. So, she takes matters into her own hands. He’s sitting out on the back porch on the left of Thomas Kazansky when his phone buzzes with a text message from her. He should know better but he opens it out of instinct.

Bradley almost chokes on his beer at the sight of a picture that he took himself suddenly appearing on his own screen. It’s her, on her back in his bed. Bathed in the glow of his lamp, completely naked and her eyelids heavy with lust, not sleep. His fingers are in her mouth, his cum is coating her tits, and his still hard cock is just between her legs.

Her face isn’t in it completely, but either way Bradley’s first instinct is almost to toss his phone into the lake rather than get caught looking at a photo like this by his future father in law. And boss. Fuck, he forgets that Ice is his boss.

He shoves his phone into his pocket and turns his head, watching her lift her head and smile sweetly over at him from where she is playing with her nieces.

Bradley has tried to let go of the grudges he holds, and he’s working on telling himself that retaliation isn’t worth it. But today, she needs to learn.

He settles in beside her at dinner. It’s nice, a candlelit meal on the back porch, overlooking the lake with everyone that they love most in the world. Bradley slips his hand into hers, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles softly.

To everyone else, he looks like the perfect gentleman as he brings their hands under the table and squeezes hers softly in his. He grabs his beer and takes a calm sip as he uncurls his fingers from hers and digs them into her thigh.

Her eyes widen. She bites her cheeks immediately. She was beginning to wonder when he would break.

Conversation carries on around them. Bradley is polite and engaged as his fingers dip under that pretty little skirt of hers and circle her clit until she’s soaking the pads of his fingers through her underwear.

She always fidgets so much when he’s touching her like this. She sips nervously at her wine glass, reaching down and curling her fingers around his wrist.

“Bradley,” She leans across to him, frowning softly. “I — I can’t… in front of all these people.”

“Feels like you can.” Bradley answers her, his face as calm as if they were talking about the weather. His fingers ditch her clit abruptly, making her jolt towards her wine glass. She grips his wrist tightly as he sinks two fingers into her at once.

Her eyes are ablaze — she loves when he takes charge like this, but god she wishes they were anywhere but here. She swallows softly, turning her head to stare at her silverware as his fingers curl into the plush of her walls, white knuckling the edges of her chair.

Her stomach grows tighter and she’s the furthest thing from engaged. Bradley’s deep in conversation with her sister, listening tentatively as he fucks his fingers in to her. Finally, she grabs at his wrist and squeezes tight. He pulls his fingers from her and relents, giving her thigh a soft squeeze.

“Are you going to behave now?” Bradley asks calmly, taking a swig of his beer. She swallows, then gives a shake of her head, wetting her lips with his tongue.

Bradley’s cock twitches in his pants as she turns her head to look at him, eyes serious.

“Meet me inside in three minutes.” She breathes out, excusing herself politely before he’s got a chance to argue. Bradley exhales softly, lips quirking to himself as he takes another drink. Really, he wouldn’t have this any other way.