#maverick takes a turn

[maverices]

Do you think Mav thought of Ice when he and Bradley marched through the snow-covered forest after being shot down? Do you think he thought of Ice as he felt the cold seep into his bones and the snow kiss his hair and the wind flush his face? Do you think he found the F-14, fully fueled and in near perfect condition, and thought of all the times Ice had gotten him out of a tight spot and back into the air? Do you think he flew the F-14 out to the open sea, hoping against hope there would be a familiar voice over comms, a second shadow on the glistening, deadly waves beneath him? Do you think he stood on deck of the aircraft carrier amidst a chaos of triumph and relief, and couldn't help but look for one particular face in the crowd?

[unlawfulchaos]

Mav: So, hypothetically-

Slider: What did you do this time, shortstack?

Mav: I accidentally ate Ice's leftover pierogi. How long do you think I have left to live?

Slider, seeing Ice slowly rising up behind Mav: Five.

Mav: Five what?!

Slider: Four.

[polar-equinoxx]

crashing, not burning,

december blues on ao3

part one || part 2

my two favourite frames under the cut :3 that I may colour/render at some point

[compacflt]

Do you ever think about how rooster probably had to walk past that poster of ice and mav shaking hands when he was at top gun the first time cause like

well ackshually top gun (navy fighter weapons school) moved out to NAS Fallon in Nevada after the USMC took control of NAS Miramar in 1996 (2006 in my timeline) so i don’t think he would’ve seen it there

but during training for the Dagger mission at NAS north island… the first time, Rooster was probably totally blindsided by it—made him stop dead in his tracks. Jesus. Who put that shit here. Exposing them in the light of day. Total bullshit. Then: “eugh.” And every time after that he just squared his shoulders & walked past & refused to look.

Every time MAV walked past it he probably hesitated & smiled. That’s me & my baby, that’s me & my tomcat, et cetera. oh my god we used to be so YOUNG. augh. look at us. —But can’t get caught staring, have to move on quickly. He has that picture in his wallet anyways. There will be time to look at it later ❤️

[lesbiradshaw]

jake showing time and time again that he has no interest in being a team player or slowing down for anyone else but getting frustrated when he’s watching bradley fly with maverick and trying to coach him from the side about taking the shot even though all of his other behavior suggests he should want bradley to fail and prove his earlier comments about bradley being stuck on his perch right… kinda crazy when you think about it.

[bobfloydsbabe]

New Jake and Jas fic coming tomorrow, my friends 😉

[coridotmp3]

i'm always thinking about jake as ice's son btw

[boyheros]

I drew this so incredibly small for no reason at all.. anywaysssss ana maverick.

[warnersister]

Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

Pt. 2

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

Pt. 2

[compacflt]

wip wednesday: the final wip wednesday :’)

bonus:

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.

CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's still goofy XD

WC: 1800+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You’re sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, waiting for your friend to finish flirting with the bartender so you can pay your tab, when you hear a familiar voice from behind.

“Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

You glance over your shoulder wearily, instantly recognizing the tall aviator you met at the clinic earlier in the week. Bradshaw, was it? “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, giving him a polite smile before turning away.

Bradley doesn’t take the hint and plants himself on the barstool next to you. “So, are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you Doc? Might get a bit awkward in bed.”

You snort into your drink as you’re taking a sip. Bradley grins, clearly pleased that he’s made you laugh. His slightly narrowed eyes sweep over your face with a quiet confidence, and you find yourself rather enjoying his attention. “Well, for the sake of making things less awkward,” you respond with a small smile, and then tell him your name.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then leans forward slightly to add, “again.”

You bite into your lip to suppress your widening grin.

“I was hoping I’d run into you, actually,” he comments, turning away to flag down the otherwise occupied bartender.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, feigning surprise.

“Yeah,” Bradley responds, tapping on his beer bottle and nodding at the bartender. He turns back to you and shrugs. “Saves me from having to fake an illness to come see you.”

You eye him somewhat reproachfully. “That would be extremely inappropriate.”

Bradley laughs. “If you think that’s inappropriate, I’m not gonna tell you what I planned on doing once I got there.”

Your eyes widen at the insinuation. “Lieutenant!” you exclaim.

Bradley continues chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’d have liked it.” He winks and then nods at the bartender who’s brought him his beer.

You stare at him because his boldness is mindboggling. “You shouldn’t be drinking with a head injury,” you point out.

He looks at you with amusement. “What head injury?”

“The one that brought you to my office?”

“You know what brought me to your office?” he says, and then points a thumb over his shoulder at a crowded table near the back of the bar. “Captain Maverick Mitchell. My self-appointed father figure,” he says in a tone that’s half-grudging, half-affectionate. “And possibly fate,” he adds as an afterthought.

You blink at him skeptically when he glances back at you. “Wow,” you say. “Pulling out the big guns.”

Bradley laughs again. “I have quite the arsenal.”

“Oh, I bet,” you say with a chuckle. “Aviator, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley responds proudly. Then he nods at the glass you bring to your lips. “Looks like you need a refill.”

You shake your head. “I was about to head out actually.”

Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “But then I arrived and changed your mind, right?”

You laugh slightly. “Not quite, Lieutenant,” you respond, rising from your stool and waving at the bartender. “I’ve got an early morning.”

Bradley gets out of his seat and pulls out his wallet. “Allow me, please,” he says.

“That’s not necessary,” you reply uncomfortably. You don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.

Bradley gives you a more serious look. “It’s the least I could do for nagging you this evening.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads of its own accord. You find Bradley reasonably attractive, sure. But it’s the way he carries himself that’s really got you hooked. You can hardly pull your gaze away. “Don’t forget about the part where you were the most obnoxious patient.”

Bradley lets out a hearty laugh. “That deserves a whole pint, Doc.”

You give him a smile. “Maybe another time,” you say politely. Despite his persistence, you can’t jeopardize your position at the clinic by consorting with a patient.

But before you turn to leave, Captain Mitchell approaches the bar and, upon perceiving you, he exclaims, “Oh! It’s the doctor!” He gestures in your direction while looking at Bradley.

Bradley gives him a flat look. “No shit,” he says.

Maverick glances between the two of you and then nods in realization. “You’ve spotted her already.”

You press your lips together to conceal a smile as Bradley brings a hand to his face like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his ‘self-appointed father figure’. “Hello again,” you say to the captain, extending your hand.

“Good to see you, Doctor,” Maverick replies with a knowing grin, shaking your hand. “Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

“Oh god,” Bradley groans. “That's embarrassing.”

Maverick looks over at him with a confused expression while you giggle. “I was actually planning on scheduling him in for a follow-up,” Maverick says. “Noticed some concerning behaviors.”

You raise your eyebrows while Bradley watches Maverick’s profile incredulously.

“New behaviors?” you ask, glancing back at Bradley.

“No, no.” Maverick waves a hand nonchalantly as he settles onto a barstool. “Not new.”

Bradley shakes his head. “Why are you such a shit disturber?”

Maverick laughs and claps him on the back. “You buy the lady a drink yet?”

You drop your head slightly to hide your growing smile.

“I was trying to,” Bradley declares. “Before your ass showed up.”

You look up apologetically at the two men who are now watching you expectantly. “I’m not…thirsty.”

Maverick winces while Bradley’s shoulders visibly fall. “It’s his fault, isn’t it?” Bradley says, gesturing at Maverick with his thumb again.

“How is it my fault?” Maverick exclaims.

“It’s not his fault,” you attest, glancing at the captain.

“You should talk some more about my concerning behaviors,” Bradley retorts.

Maverick snorts. “I was kidding!” he says. “She knows!” he gestures at you. “You know, right?”

You glance between the two men patiently, wondering if they realize just how much they have in common. “Neither of you is driving tonight, right?” you ask, feeling, for some strange reason, a sense of responsibility for them.

Maverick turns to face you with a jolt. “I’m sober,” he asserts.

Bradley’s eyebrows converge in a dubious expression before he looks back at you. “He’s not driving,” he confirms.

“And you?”

“This is only my second beer!” he exclaims.

You meet his gaze with a smile because you don’t want him to feel attacked. “Okay,” you respond gently. “Drive safe.”

You start to walk away when you hear Bradley say, “Can I walk you to your car, Doc?”

You turn to face him again, about halfway to the door. “You know my name now,” you say, and he grins at you.

“I do,” he agrees. “That was for old times’ sake.”

You sigh. “Sure, Lieutenant. You can walk me to my car.”

…

Out in the parking lot, Bradley muses, “I’m thinking of maybe dislocating my shoulder next week. That’s an easy fix, right?”

You look over at him sharply. “That’s not funny.”

Bradley grins. “Not even a little?”

You roll your eyes at him and continue walking.

“Come on, Doc!” he calls after you. “My sense of humor is a good thing, remember?”

You smile to yourself and slow your pace to let him catch up. “There are other ways of getting my attention besides injuring yourself,” you remark as he falls back in step with you.

“Such as?” he asks.

You approach your car and unlock the door. “I can’t give away all the answers, can I?”

Bradley presses his lips together and grins. “Does that mean I have a shot?”

You lower your gaze coyly. “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“That’s not a ‘no’,” he points out.

You smile, glancing back up at him. “No,” you agree. “I suppose it’s not.”

Bradley’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he holds your gaze. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.

“No,” you reply almost immediately. Then, after a beat, you add, “Not yet.”

Bradley licks his lips, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”

You chuckle slightly, reaching for the door to your car.

“Can I stand here with you a little longer?” he asks, his voice a little more raspy when it isn’t bursting with confidence.

You pause, your hand still on the door, shocked at how desperately you want to oblige. How delightful it would be to just say yes on a whim. Without considering the repercussions or weighing the pros and cons. Without deliberation or apprehension. Impulsively. The word itself makes you flustered. “Okay,” you say, glancing up at him as he shifts a little closer.

Bradley smiles at you and leans his back to the car. He stands quietly for a few moments, just existing beside you, which you find both endearing and infuriating. You don’t have a lot of time on your hands and simply standing around is a colossal waste of it in your books. But something about the warm evening breeze paired with the smell of the ocean and Bradley’s crisp cologne makes the experience less harrowing, and maybe even possibly pleasant.

Still, you’re restless. “So, when you said you wanted to stand here, you actually meant stand here…” you comment.

Bradley glances down at you with an amused expression. “You got something else in mind, Doc?”

You half-snort, half-chuckle. “I just thought maybe you had something else to say. I didn’t realize we’d be standing in silence.”

Bradley grins at you. “It’s called being present.”

You study him with a slight grimace, genuinely trying to keep your cynicism at bay. Being present isn’t a kind of luxury you can often afford. Most days, you don’t even get a chance to eat sitting down. “What does that accomplish?” you ask.

Bradley, who’s still watching you with a smile, replies, “Does everything you do have a purpose?”

“Of course,” you say. “Why else would I do it?”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and puts his hands into his pockets. “That’s very practical of you.”

“It’s efficient,” you point out, trying to highlight the importance of productivity.

Bradley nods patiently. “Sounds like you need a night off, Doc.”

You laugh. “I just had a night off. But it had a purpose – my friend needed help wooing the bartender.”

Bradley chuckles. “Has the purpose ever been to just have a good time?”

You make a face and shrug. “That’s not really a priority of mine.”

“Wow, Doc, you’re a hoot,” Bradley replies facetiously.

“I warned you,” you remind him, opening your car door.

Bradley leans his arm over the frame of your car as you climb inside. “You know you leave me no choice, right?” he says, ducking his head slightly to peer into the vehicle.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“We’re going to have to rearrange your list of priorities,” he says.

You watch him for a moment, marveling at his persistence. His gaze drops briefly to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes again, and you wonder what it might feel like to be kissed by a guy like Bradley. It would probably be sexy and spontaneous. It would probably catch you off guard and possibly even offend you a little. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t mind being mildly offended if it meant kissing Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal,” you say. Your tone might be sarcastic, but the statement is fairly accurate.

Bradley grins. “I don’t mind a challenge.”

Rooster Tag List:

I'll be putting the rest of the list in the comments shortly! Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Rooster fics.

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[vivwritesfics]

I need just the tip with hangman

Heed the warnings for this one - but at the same time I need this Hangman to rail me within an inch of my life lmao, I could write so much for these two

Warnings: smut, age gap, power imbalance, virginity taking, innocence kink, fingering, p in v

The Squad didn't know that Maverick had a daughter when that mission happened. No, they found out about his daughter after, when things were normal and Penny invited them all over for a barbecue in the garden.

Upon hearing that Maverick had a daughter and she was on her way, they all expected her to be Bradley's age or near enough.

They didn't expect her to be in her early twenties.

They didn't expect her to be a stunner.

Maybe it was the beers that gave Hangman such loose lipped. But he couldn't stop that 'holy shit' from slipping out. Who could blame him, though?

But then...

"Bradley!" She ran into Roosters arms and wrapped her own arms around his neck. Figures, Jake couldn't stop himself from thinking as he looked at them.

He didn't interact with her at that barbecue, but he was acutely aware that her eyes didn't leave him. After a few more drinks she whispered something in Bradley's are, something that had him standing up and saying 'No way!'

The next time Jake saw her was at the beach. She giggled, waved and batted her eyelashes at him before she ran back to her friends.

Jake couldn't take his eyes off of her if he wanted to. Everything she did, it was like she was putting on a show for him and only him.

But, even then, Jake didn't approach.

It was only when he found her at the hard deck. He didn't know she was there looking for him, the handsome aviator that her dad knew.

She sat alone, drinking as she waited for Jake to walk in. And, when she did, she was on her feet, standing beside him as he leant against the bar, ass sticking out.

Jake was sweating. Here was Mavericks daughter, pressing her ass against his dick.

"Hey, Hangman," she said as he turned towards him and wrapped her lips around the neck of her bottle, deep throating it.

Jake visibly gulped. His hands were on her hips ss he stared down at her and leaned forward. "Does this shit work on the boys your age?"

She shrugged her shoulders in such a sweetly, innocent way. "I wouldn't know," she said, breath hot on his ear.

Holy fuck, she was a Virgin.

There wasn't much that could restrain Hangman at that point. But Penny's eyes on him certainly did. He kept her near him thought, kept an eye on her while they drank.

And, at the end of the night, he took her back to his truck.

"Is your dad gonna kill me when I drop you home?" Jake asked when he began driving.

Her fingers danced up his thigh and she let out a hum. "Not if you take me back to yours ," she mused as she popped the button on his trousers.

How was Jake supposed to say no to that? He sucked in a breath as he went past her place, continuing on to his own. Her breath hitched when she realised, but Jake didn't notice.

Jake parked up outside of his place. He helped her out of the truck, but they didn't get further than that. No, Jake had her against the truck, lips bruising against her own.

She moaned against him, hands pulling at his hair. Jake threw his head back, a moan coming from the back of his throat. "Holy shit," he groaned as she attached her lips to his neck.

With her legs around his waist, Jake carried her into his house, with his hands under her ass, squeezing and kneeding at the flesh. He managed to open the door and dropped her on the bed.

But then his hands were on her thigh, pushing her skirt up. Suddenly, she was nervous under his pretty gaze. "Wait," she squeaked, grabbing his wrists.

Jake let out a breath as he looked at her. He moved his hand to her knee and moved his thumb from side to side. "What is it?"

"I-I've never done this before," she whispered, and Jakes eyes softened.

He leaned down and kissed her, softly this time. "I'll take care of you," he whispered against her lips.

She nodded. "I've got you, Bug," Jake whispered as his hand moved down from her knee. His fingertips brushed her thighs and touched her through her underwear.

"Holy fuck," she whispered.

Slowly, he pushed her underwear to the side. His rough fingertips were gentle against her clit, and every touch had her crying out for him. And, each noise she made was music to Jakes ears.

The way she writhed beneath him, Jake couldn't stop watching her. He kept his thumb pressed against her clit, his long fingers pushed inside. One at first, but even that had her gasping.

"Hangman," she cried, throwing her head against the arm of the sofa, back arching.

There was something about that, something about her calling him by his Callsign. It unlocked something animalistic in him. But he was still taking things slow and gentle.

As he worked her open, he freed himself from his trousers. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, looked down at where his hard on hit his stomach.

"Jake," she squeaked, and he stilled his fingers. "I-I don't think I can take that," she whispered.

He didn't mean to smirk, but he couldn't help himself. "Too big for you, Bug?" He whispered as he pulled his fingers out of her cunt. He placed them between his lips, tasting her, releasing a hum. "So sweet, Bug."

She whined beneath him, hips moving on their own.

"How about just the tip?" He asked almost sweetly, and she rapidly nodded her head.

Jake rolled the condom into his length. He stood before her and she reached down to wrap her fingers around him. It was such a pretty sight, one Jake didn't think he'd ever get enough of.

He eased himself forward, nestling the head of his cock between her folds. She let out a whine and grabbed his hand, squeezing as he eased himself forward.

"Just the tip," he reassured her, squeezing her hand.

The way she squeezed him, it was almost too much to handle. Jake pulled back and eased himself in again, this time a little further. Her breath caught in her throat and he pulled back again.

"Sorry, Bug. Just the tip, I know."

Jake couldn't wait to have her bent over the arm of the sofa, cock splitting her folds as he ravaged her.

[malkaviian]

ive had a horrible idea actually

[sugarcoated-lame]

KATIE PLEASE IM GOING INSANE OVER THIS

DADS BEST FRIEND ROOSTER

DADS BEST FRIEND ROOSTER WHO TAKES YOU HOME FROM THE BAR BEFORE YOU CAN GET TOO DRUNK (bc he’s responsible) AND MAKES YOU WATCH HIS FAVOURITE MOVIE ON THE COUCH (bc he’s sentimental) AND THEN FUCKS YOU NASTY (bc he’s rooster be fr)

[isopodist]

Sorry can everyone on the top gun tag stop posting for five minutes so i can see if a picture was real or if it was an edit or if i hallucinated it

[xihe1874]

All right. So I rewatched Top Gun: Maverick yesterday and I had some quite angsty realisation that I have to share with all of you. You are welcome.

You remember in TG:M, how Mav tended to speak to himself when flying? Little pep talk such as "Come on Mav", "Let's try not to get fired at the very first day Maverick", "You've got this Mav"?

Well, if memory serves me right, he didn't do that in the first movie.

Why's that?

My take on this is: The person(s) used to exchange the talk, the encouragement, the quip, the endearment with him, poking fun at each other while watching each other's six, are either dead or dying.

"You've got this".

("You've got this, kid." Duke Mitchell smiled to his son.)

"Let's turn and burn."

("Let's turn and burn, Mav!" Goose shouted excitedly behind him in an F-14.)

"Let's try not to get fired at the first day."

("Let's try not to get fired at the very first day as instructors, huh, Maverick?" Ice shook his head with resigned fondness.)

"Come on!"

("Come on Mav!" Goose swung an arm around his shoulder, his voice warm and kind.)

"You've got this".

("I've got you. I've got you, babe." Ice whispered and tightened the embrace while Maverick clutched his lover to his body.)

So he had to say all of those to himself, to pretend that all of them were still with him, to bring all of them all the way across the ocean, the wind, and the sky.