#mitchell pool table

[thedreamsareripped]

Contemporary Living Room in New York An illustration of a sizable, modern living room with a bar.

[emeraldserenade]

Glass Pilot ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: You were used to people ignoring you, never noticing what you did. But then there's the entire Dagger Squad, especially Bob.

tw: fem!reader, reader has glass child syndrome, reader's callsign is Mouse, Iceman lives because I say so, age gap (reader's 25 and Bob's 32), reader is under 6 foot (I'm sorry to my tall readers), reader punches two creeps in the bar, reader's dad own jets, mostly fluff but angst thrown in, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Something about Robert Floyd makes me want to write until my fingers cramp. Also, sorry for not posting yesterday. I was in a lot of pain and I ended up at the ER at 8am this morning. Turns out I have a kidney stone way too early in life, going to the urologist Monday to find out more.

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When you were called back to TOP GUN, you weren't expecting much from the others. You figured it would be the same it always was, you'd stay in the background, do what you were told, and never disobey orders.

It's how you got your callsign, you never spoke unless someone spoke to you, thus Mouse is what people called you. You didn't hate it, it could have been worse, but you also didn't love it. You figured most people didn't like theirs, but you also couldn't be sure.

You were able to float around the bar without people noticing you, you watched as a pilot named Bob get noticed, yet not you. You were used to it, you could even stand by the pool table and not one person said anything to you.

Not until you ended up being seen by Callie, "Mouse!"

You floated over to her, your smile making it's way on your face. She was about the only person you've met that didn't care about how quiet you were. She seemed to just like your company and you were ok with her talking to you. "Hi, Halo," you greeted her, your voice barely heard over the loud music.

You let her talk to you for a while before you walked away and to the bar. You ended up sitting a few seats away from an older man, you eyed him for a moment before realizing who he was. You wanted to say hi, to introduce yourself before what you assumed was his class the next day. But you were too nervous, you didn't want to take his attention away from someone else that might deserve it more.

"What do they call you?" You heard him ask, you turned your head to him and stared for a moment.

"Mouse, sir," you replied and he laughed while nodding. "Are you the one they got to teach us?"

"I am, Captain Pete Mitchell, Maverick," he stuck his hand out and you shook it. The conversation died and you awkwardly stood, waved to him, and left the bar. You would beat yourself up about it once you get to your childhood home, the one your parents left to you when they moved to Florida.

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You were in the back, awkwardly sitting next to someone who introduced himself as Rooster, when Pete walked in. You watched as a blond's face fell but you looked away before he could notice.

You were flying with Callie and Neil, you watched as they decided to take the tone from Pete for you and decided it was time to stop playing nice. You knew you could get in trouble for flying the way you were about to, but you once told Callie and Neil that if they sacrificed themselves, you wouldn't let it go to waste. "That's a tone, Maverick," you softly called into the radio.

He let out a disbelieving laugh, "That it is, Mouse."

You climbed down from your jet and were met with Callie wrapping her arms around your neck. You smiled as you gently wrapped yours around her waist and she laughed. "You did it, Mouse!"

You nodded as you pulled away, watching as Pete walked over to Hondo for his 200 push ups. "Let's go see this!" Neil grabbed your arm and pulled you along, you awkwardly stood by Neil and Callie as you watched Pete start his push ups and Hangman, as you heard someone call him, finish his.

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"You got Maverick out?" It was a female voice, Natasha, you met her once before. You were standing in the room where everyone was waiting for Pete to finish his push ups and pick another group.

"Oh, uh, yeah," you affirmed as Pete walked in from his push ups.

"That was impressive, Mouse," Pete told you as he walked in and you ducked your head.

"Uh, thanks," you quickly told him, moving to sit in the far corner as he called another group of pilots. You stayed in the corner, watching as everyone got interested in the next round of pilots.

Bob was watching you though, the way you played with your own fingers and tapped your palm with the opposite hand's fingers every now and again. He noticed you the night at the bar, how you walked so delicately it seemed like you were floating. How you could stand in a group full of people, yet never noticed. How the only time he saw you smile and talk at the bar was when someone interacted with you first.

He noticed how only Callie and Neil were the only people who talked to you for seemingly no reason. How you always seemed shocked when they asked how you were doing and how you would always say you were fine. Bob also saw the way you did what he did, you watched others. You noticed what they did and how they held themselves.

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By the end of the day, you were the only one to successfully get Pete out. You were up in the air for the second time, this time flying with Natasha and Bob. You took a deep breath as you heard Callie talk into the radio, presumably through the added radio in the watch room. "Mouse, show them why you're here even though you're only 25," Callie told you.

"Ok," you mumbled, narrowing your eyes and recalling the way that Natasha and Bob flew earlier in the day. You flew with the two, listening to the way Bob and Natasha called out where Pete was. You dropped, fast, before swopping up and flying straight at Pete while he tried to lock onto the others. "That's a tone, Maverick," you called, a little louder then last time.

There was another laugh, more proud sounding, "It is, isn't it, Mouse?"

Callie and Neil met you as your climbed down the ladder of your jet again. This time, the rest of the pilots were with them, and you got hugs from more than just Callie. "Holy shit, Mouse! That's twice!" Callie squealed into your ear and you grimaced.

"That's two for two," Neil told you and you pursed your lips a little.

You gently pulled away from Callie with a small head shake. "It's nothing, really," you brushed the praise off, but then there was aggressive and offended shouts.

"Woah, Mouse!" It was Hangman, Jake as you learned was his given name, that shouted the loudest. "That's not nothing, you've got Mav doing 400 push ups in one day," he told you and you scrunched in on yourself as he freely roamed his eyes over you.

You brushed the words off with practiced ease again, "I couldn't have done it without the expert flying of Omaha and Phoenix." It seemed to do the trick as the attention turned from you and onto the others, but Bob approached you as you slunk to the edge of the group.

Bob kept his eyes off you, rightly assuming that his full attention would make you a little uneasy. "You're a good pilot, I don't know why you're so insistent on brushing off praise."

His words caught you off guard, and you shrugged as you talked. "I just don't deserve all of it."

"You're the one with the tones," Bob shook his head but you only shrugged again as Pete walked back into the hangar. The group celebrating still but Pete bypassed them all and stopped in front of you and Bob.

"I was warned about you, Mouse. Told that while you're quiet and sweet, you're not the same in the sky," Pete raised an eyebrow at you and you just stared at him.

You wracked your brain for a response, "I'm just flying the way I need to." Bob looked at you as you deflected more praise, even praise coming from your instructor.

Pete raised his eyebrow at you, "I was told about that too."

"About what, sir?"

"You're good at what you do, you never disobey orders, yet you never seem to accept compliments when given," he replied and you shrunk in yourself.

"Oh, uh," you were saved from having to answer by Jake yelling over to Pete.

"How were your push ups, Mav?" Jake taunted and Pete turned to look at him.

"You say that like you're the one to make me do them," Pete said and you took the time to walk with Callie back to the locker room.

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The Hard Deck was extra packed tonight, tag chasers were everywhere. You stayed at the bar, your phone securely tucked away so you wouldn't have to pay for the bar. Penny was cautiously eyeing some of the men in a booth, you made a silent vow to step in if needed.

You two both watched them approach the young college student to your left, she had been asking you for drink advice the whole night. Her 21st birthday was the day before and this was her first time going to a bar.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing alone?" The creep got into her face and you automatically spoke up, nervousness be damned.

"She's not alone," you told him, eyeing him and his friends.

"Oh, there's enough for both of you here," he told you and you raised an eyebrow. You watched his friends close in and try to grab the girl, you didn't think before you landed a punch on the main guys face.

"Oh!" You gasped as you heard the sickening snap of his nose and watch him fall to the floor. Every head turned to you as you stood there with your hands over your mouth, you turned to his friends who looked pissed. They grabbed their friend and hauled him out, not even bothering to say anything to you or the girl.

"Are you ok?" The girl grabbed your hand and pressed her cold cup into your knuckles. The bar slowly went back to normal and you looked at Penny who just smiled and gave you a thumbs up, telling you that it was ok and you could stay.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you told her, letting her obsess over your knuckles. You had learned earlier in the night that she was a premed major and that she was always wanting to help in any way she could.

"Holy shit, Mouse!" Jake approached you with the others in tow. "You got that guy down in one punch!"

You shrugged as the girl pulled the glass away and gently pressed over your knuckles. "It's nothing, he had it coming," you told him as the girl pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

"It might be physiological but I still feel like that should help, they're only bruised," she told you and you narrowed your eyes as you saw Jake gear up to say something.

"Don't, she just hit 21 yesterday," you told him, the most aggressive he's heard you since meeting you. Jake backed off from her and you took your seat again as everyone else gave their impressed words before going back to their spots.

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Bob was getting out of his car at the same time you did the next morning, and rushed to walk in next to you. "That was impressive last night, the punch," Bob told you and you pursed your lips into a sorta smile.

"He was being a creep and grabbed Sarah, he deserved it," you told him, and Bob realized that was the closest to accepting a compliment you would give.

You ended up closer to the front, sitting behind Bob and Natasha. Callie was sitting down next to you as you listened to the others talk.

"A man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back," Jake said before turning to Natasha. "No offense intended," he added on.

"And somehow, you always manage," Bob added on from his spot in front of you.

"Last I checked, only one of us has gotten Maverick out, not once but twice, and Mouse ain't no man," Neil piped up from his spot farther in the back.

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You were flying again, this time with Bradley. There was some easy to spot tension in the way Bradley and Pete flew. You got tired of it and did something that was going to get you in trouble with Admiral Simpson.

You dropped again, swooped up, flew dangerously between the two, round to face straight down, and locked onto Maverick before swopping to the side before you collided with either. "That's a tone, boys," you announced but before they could answer, Admiral Simpson jumped onto the radio.

"Lieutenant y/l/n, my office now," he told you and you started to fly back to the hangar.

Admiral Beau Simpson was standing in the hangar with Admiral Tom Kazansky as you climbed down, you pursed your lips at the idea of how much trouble you were in. "You're a dangerous flyer, what you did could have ended horribly!" Simpson didn't even wait until you were out of the hangar to start yelling at you. You just stood at attention and took his words. "You're praises have been sung by every CO you've had, we were told you never disobeyed orders!" You wanted to tell him you disobeyed no orders, that your only order was to try and get Maverick out again, but held your tongue as you stood at attention.

"But, it was impressive and perfectly executed," Kazansky cut in, you didn't move. You just stood there and noticed your fellow pilots start to slowly gather. "Not even Mav has the guts to pull that move, where did you learn that?"

"My dad, sir," you replied and watched him raise an eyebrow.

"Your father?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is he a pilot too?"

"Not in the way you're thinking, sir," you told him.

"Care to explain what you mean, Lieutenant?" Simpson asked.

"He's owned jets my whole life, sir. F-16s that he bought and refurbished himself, he's a mechanic. I got my license at 16 and I've been flying since then. I learned that move right before basic training while flying with him, sir," you explained and saw the intrigue on both of their faces.

"Well, then, at ease, Lieutenant," Kazansky told you and you automatically relaxed your stance.

"I'm not in trouble?" You questioned and saw the annoyance flash on Simpson's face.

"No, you're not," Kazansky told you and you let your shock cross your face. "Just, don't do it again," he added and you quickly nodded. "You're dismissed," he told you and you quickly thanked him and scurried off, ignoring the looks from your fellow pilots.

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"Are you coming to The Hard Deck?" Bob questioned as he walked next to you, you were told you weren't to fly for the rest of the day but you stayed at base because you had to.

"No, not tonight," you told him, wanting to go home.

"Not even after you've kept your title as only person to get Mav out?" Natasha ended up on your other side and you suddenly wished the ground would open up and suck you in. Their had to be other people who deserved their attention more than you.

"It's not as impressive as you guys keep saying it is," you rushed out before scurrying off to your car. Natasha and Bob both stood there, dumbfounded.

"It's not either of you," Callie said from behind them where everyone else was gathered. "She's quiet, always has been. It's my she's called Mouse, you never hear her until she makes a noise. It's why her flying is impressive, she doesn't show off and she knows how to fly in the perfect way to stay hidden until she strikes. I tried to get her callsign changed to Reaper for that reason, but she's too quiet for anyone to take me seriously," Callie explained, her eyes trailing your car.

"Do you know where she's staying?" Natasha had an idea.

"Yeah, why?" Callie questioned, her eyes moving to Natasha's face.

"I think we should bring the party to her," Natasha told the group.

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You had your lips pursed as you looked at your full living room, the entire group, including Tom, as he insisted you call him, and Pete, where there. "So, you're all in my house because?"

"Because you've gotten my out three times, yet refuse to let us celebrate you," Pete supplied and you tensed minutely but Bob noticed. He was the only one who thought it was a bad idea but no one listened to him.

"I've said it's no big deal," you told him but there was a wave of disagreements from the others. "It truly isn't!" Your eyes found Bob's and saw the quiet disagreement in them. "Fine, but you're all watching this movie I want to watch with me," you told them, a chorus of ok following your words.

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"Holy shit!" Jake jumped at the jump scare from his spot on the floor with his feet thrown over Javy's legs, everyone was sprawled across your living room with snacks and drinks. Bob and you were pressed into your overstuffed chair together with Bob's feet kicked up on the empty space on the ottoman that Mickey had laid out on. Your feet where resting on Mickey's lower back, him telling you the pressure of your heels helped the pain he had. Ruben was on the floor next to the ottoman, sharing Mickey's candy you had given them. Pete and Tom were on your couch with Billy and Neil, the four were the calmest.

"Bagman, shut it!" Natasha told him from her spot on the loveseat with Callie, both holding pillows to their chest. Everyone else was thrown around the floor with various pillows and blankets you got them. You were watching The Nun, it wasn't even that scary but there were a lot of jump scares.

"Do you want more popcorn?" You lowly asked Bob, your shared bowl almost empty. He quietly nodded and you got up, you asked Mickey the same question as you leaned down to grab his empty bowl. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the TV and you walked to your popcorn maker. It was one of the nostalgic looking ones, it was pretty new and was turned on to make new popcorn for your impromptu movie night. Your parents had gotten it right before they moved out but left it just in case you wanted it.

You turned back to the TV just as another jump scare happened and shouted along with a good chuck of the others. "Oh god!" Your eyes widened as you shouted and Jake looked at you.

"I feel validated now that Mouse has been scared," he mumbled and you took a deep breath to calm down. You walked back to your seat, leaning down to place Mickey's bowl back on the ground where he's been keeping it, before sitting back down and kicking your legs up again.

You glanced around, noting the comfort you got from seeing a bunch of people who were so determined to celebrate and praise your accomplishments. You looked back to the TV, not noticing the look full of love Bob was giving you.

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The dynamic changed after that and you found yourself on the beach playing dogfight football. You were in a pair of shorts and found a swim suit top in your old clothing that still fit. You brought extra for Natasha and Callie at their request. You laughed as Bradley did a silly little victory dance but cheered the loudest when Bob won the game. "Way to go, Bobby!" You yelled as he was lifted up, he caught your eyes and gave you a bright smile.

"Bobby? I see you, Mouse," Callie told you and you gently shoved her, you had gotten used to being noticed and cared about.

"Oh, shut it," you laughed as Bob was put down. You took a deep breath as you calmed your racing heart as Bob walked to you.

"You called me Bobby," Bob said and you nodded, you could tell he was more amazed than annoyed.

"Would you prefer Bobert?" You questioned but cut him off. "Wait, too late, I'm calling you Bobert," you sing songed and he just smiled at you.

"Ok, fine, honey," he told you and you gasped as he walked away.

"You can't just call me that and walk away, Bobert!" You called after him, the name lighting laughter throughout the group.

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You started going to The Hard Deck more and people started to notice you more. It felt odd, no longer able to float around like you were a ghost. But you enjoyed it, enjoyed being included and openly loved by friends. However, you didn't enjoy the looks, the hungry and lust filled looks from non-Navy men in the bar. "You know, you're body's a ten but your face is a," the brazen man didn't get to finish his statement before the last person you expected punched him, Jake.

"Hey, that's the future Mrs. Floyd your insulting, and no one insults Mouse without consequences," Jake growled and you stood there confused but seething.

"You Mr. Floyd? Cause you could do so much," you cut him off this time, your fist connecting squarely with his jaw. Effectively popping it out of place as he screamed and hit the floor.

"Actually, that's Mr. Floyd," you pointed to Bob before pointing to yourself. "And I'm the one that just punched your jaw out of place," you hissed, gripping him by the shirt to pull him to be level with your face. He was barely taller than you, maybe an inch, and he was scrawny. Despite that, it was obvious you were strong, it took a lot of strength to punch a jaw out of place. "Now, I am going to push your jaw back in place. You're not going to scream like a little bitch, and then you're going to leave. Nod if you understand," you told him, he quickly nodded and you pushed his jaw just right to pop it in place before shoving him away from you and watching his run off with his tail between his legs.

"Damn, she could eat you alive, Bob," Neil laughed and you spun to face the others. Your hand red and angry but you were more worried about Penny walking over.

"I'm about to yell at you two, look scared and nod," she informed you, letting you two know she wasn't mad in the slightest. "You two cannot just punch a guy in my bar!" She started yelling. "I don't care that you're Navy pilots, next time I'm kicking you two out!" She added before turned and storming away.

"She flies like a pro, she punches harder than expected, yet she's called Mouse," Javy shook his head in amusement and you gave him an awkward smile.

"I also needlessly defended Hangman," you shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, darling, it was hot," Jake slung his arm over your shoulders and you gently jabbed your finger into his side. He jumped away from you with a small yelp.

You walked to the booth Bob was sitting him and took the seat next to him, he quietly hoped you didn't notice how turned on he was. "I hope Hangman saying you were my future wife wasn't awkward for you," Bob told you.

"Was it for you?" You looked him in the eyes, the first time you've ever initiated eye contact.

"No, more embarrassed that you're finding out about my crush this way," he told you, able to read the fact that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

"Good and don't be embarrassed," you gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him to your lips. It was immediately intense and breath taking and when you pulled away, you finally noticed the cheers.

"Way to go, Mouse!" Callie cheered and you smiled against Bob's lips.

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You wanted to say it all disappeared, that you suddenly believed that you deserved people's attention and love. But it didn't, you still found yourself standing on the edge of a group and brushing off compliments. And worse of all, you found yourself slowly starting to pull from Bob as the mission grew closer.

It all came to a head when the mission actually happened, you weren't too surprised that you weren't picked for it. You figured that even if there wasn't favoritism with Pete and Bradley, Bradley would be picked for the effortless way he flew with the others.

You lingered by Bob, wanting to apologize for pulling away to tell him to be safe. But you didn't want to overwhelm him, so you started to walk away. "Honey," Bob gently grabbed your arm and pulled you a little away from the others. "What's wrong?"

You gently shook your head at him, "We will talk after you're back. You need a clear head for this," you told him.

"I won't have a clear head knowing there's something wrong," Bob gently argued back.

"It's just, what's going to happen to us after this? What happened if you," You looked down at the place the toes of your shoes were gently kissing his, not able to finish the question.

"You know I can't promise to make it back, but I'm going to try. And when I get back," you didn't miss the fact that he said 'when' and not 'if'. "We will make this, whatever we are, work. Letters, FaceTime calls, random trips to the other, taking leave at the same time to visit each other and go on vacation, applying to the same stations for a chance to get put together, we will work it out. That I can promise," he told you, his hands grasping yours.

"Ok," you whispered. "Just, come back to me, alive. Hurt, broken, scared, I don't care. Just come back alive," you begged, you knew he wouldn't promise, that he couldn't promise.

"I'll try, Honey, I'll try," Bob told you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before separating.

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You met Bob, Natasha, Ruben, and Mickey down on the landing strip once you could. You were in Bob's arms faster than you should've been but he didn't care. He just hugged you tight and spun you to make up for the kinetic energy from your run.

"You're ok?" You pulled back, even with the nerves for both Bradley and Pete, you had to know.

"I am," he told you, easing your worries. You pulled away completely and tackled the others into a group hug.

"Mickey, get your ass in this hug," you called to the WSO who tried to avoid your grasp. Natasha was pressing her face into your neck as he hugged your waist as tight as possible while Ruben has his arms wrapped around both you and Natasha from your right side.

"What about Bob?" Mickey argued but came to your left side to wrap his arms around the three of you anyway.

"Bob," you just said his name and then his arms were circling all of you as he pressed his chest to your back. The five of you stood there for a moment, just soaking up the comfort.

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Pete and Bradley made it back and you made a mental note to tell Jake good job for helping them. There were celebrations everywhere and once Pete and Bradley had their moment, you forced the two into a group hug as well.

"Just accept your fate, boys. She'll hug you until you hug her back!" Callie told them over the noise and they listened, hugging you back.

You pulled away with a small smile, you didn't say anything but you figured they got the message. You let they go about their business as you found your way through the crowd to the edge. Bob met you there not even moments later, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side.

"You came back," you breathed out, the tension you've been carrying for weeks finally falling.

"I did, I came back for you," he used his hold to turn you towards him as he did the same. His face was a little flushed from the excitement and good celebrations happening but his smile was that soft one you've gotten used to.

"You know, I could reprimand you two for relations within a squadron," Simpson ended up next to you two and you quickly pulled away from each other. "But, I'm not going to. When we get back, you two, along with the others, will be asked to stay on the North Island for the foreseeable future to train new recruits. If you take the job, I'll give you two the proper paperwork for whatever you two call this," he told you before leaving.

"Looks like fate is in our favor," you told Bob, pulling him into a kiss by the collar of his flight suit.

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[the-shedevil-writes]

Cowboy Casanova (Tyler Owens x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: You grew up in the same town as Tyler Owens, so you heard the stories — the heartbreaks, the ghosting, the breakups. Back then, he tore through girls like a storm. Now, eight years after graduation, you’re a rising country music star, and he’s out chasing real tornadoes. He might be older, hotter, and more charming than ever, but there’s no way you’re falling for any of that. WORD COUNT: 4.4k WARNINGS: Cussing, Miscommunication, Suggestive content and making out but no smut. NOTES: Uh- I'm scared to write smut, but I'm tempted to make a part 2 of this as a first attempt. MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

She had been told her whole life that Tyler Owens was a trap. Men who know they’re good-looking are nothing but trouble. And that was a very apt description of Tyler Owens. He wasn’t only famous for his livestreams ‘tornado wrangling’, but for all the women across America swooning over him on their screens. Frankly, she found it cringeworthy. It was an ick. 

But he was the local celebrity in their small Oklahoma town. She was in second place as a famous local singer, but she only took second because all the girls in town were still drawn to him like flies to honey. Even though every girl and their mama have heard the stories and rumors about him. ESPECIALLY in high school. Tyler Owens was the dream bull rider that every girl fawned over. 

Not her. Yeah, she’d always admit that he was objectively attractive, and only got better with age. But she saw the tears of poor Becky Mitchell at her locker in high school. She heard about the phone-call breakups and the dates he stood up. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that she’d be different. She didn’t care to fix or tame him.

So when he and his film crew came in during one of her sets at the local country bar, Miller’s Place, she just looked passed him unfazed. She was sat on a stool, just her and her guitar, when Tyler stopped halfway through the bar to turn and listen to her. The rest of his crew walked to the pool table and looked back at him, confused.

She pretended not to notice him and continued singing. It was a simple cover of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. Every girl who’s picked up a guitar has sung this song. She felt that she was nothing special, but her voice rang out beautifully. The wood of the bar created great acoustics for her voice. Many had told her that she sounded similar to Natalie Maines, the lead singer of The Chicks, and that’s somewhat how she got her start. But she now hated that people saw her as a copy or an impressionist. That’s why she went from softer pop to harder country rock. At least, that’s what her label wanted her to release. 

But when she was here? Doing a set at Miller’s? She could sing anything she damn well pleased.

As she finished, she leaned into the mic. “Thank you, I’m gone for the night, but you guys will be further entertained by the lovely Joe Scheel. Thank you so much.” She announced into the microphone before getting up. A few groans and sad boo’s came out from the audience. The timid guitarist coming up behind her gulped nervously. How was he supposed to compete with her?

She hopped down and walked over to the bar, leaning against the countertop. 

“Usual?” Nate Miller, the owner and beloved bartender of the place, asked her. 

She nodded. “Yes, please. Long day.” She grumbled.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a tall Tyler Owens-shaped figure coming up to her, “And I think it’s about to get longer.”

Tyler came up to the bar and leaned his elbow onto it, looking at her. She pretended not to notice him. Simply humming along to the Johnny Cash song that the new musician was playing. He chuckled. 

“Hey, doll, remember me?” His voice was low with that twang of the accent they shared. She remembered it all too well. 

She looked over, and gave him a scathing up and down. A skeptical brow raised on her.

“I wish I didn’t.” She finally said as Nate passed her her favorite beer.

Tyler looked over at him. “Put it on my tab. It’s a high school reunion.” 

Nate went to slide the receipt tray to him, but she quickly caught it. “I don’t need your help.” She said bluntly.

Tyler smirked, and his eyebrows raised. He liked this. He was liking this too much. He tried to grab it again, but she had already slammed her card down and signed the receipt. 

“I don’t need to owe you anything, Owens.” She said 

“You know, I don’t remember you being this standoffish in school.” He said, pulling out the barstool and sitting down. 

“I remember you being this annoying.” 

He chuckled. “Honestly. That’s fair.” He said that, and that slightly surprised her. But she just stared ahead as she took a sip of her beer. She treated him like a toxic hazard. If she spent too long looking at him, maybe whatever mania these girls experienced would seep into her brain. It wasn’t worth the risk.

He looked at her for a slight second more, then ordered himself a beer. He looked forward at the wall just like her, not wanting to stare holes into her like a creep. “You gonna stand and drink, or are you gonna sit down like a normal person?” 

She shook her head. “I’m fine standing.” 

He shrugged, “Just trying to make friends.” As if it were her fault… He took a sip. 

That made her look over. For some reason, that line made her angry. Tyler Owens didn’t make friends. He made women he kicked out in the morning. He made names in a little black book. 

She huffed, downed her beer, and grabbed her guitar case. She stormed out. Oh, she was one hell of a tornado that was not going to be reined in by Tyler Owens. 

A few seconds after her gravelly footsteps faded away, Tyler looked up at the bartender. 

“Is she always like that nowadays?” He asked

Nate shrugged. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy. She doesn’t date.”

“God…” Tyler started with a small nostalgic smile forming on his face, “You know, I had a big ol’ crush on her when we were in high school. Always got me nervous cause she was on the science team.” He confided.

The bartender huffed a laugh. “Missed your chance.” 

“Yeah. Guess I did.” Tyler said.

The second time she saw him was at the community picnic. She was in much more formal clothes than she was at Miller’s Place the week before. Her mother insisted that she come, help set up, perform a few songs, and make the rounds. So, as she put down the heavy crockpot on the long buffet table, her neck snapped when she heard her mama go:

“Oh, there’s that Owens boy. The storm chaser.”

“What?” She asked, turning to see Tyler walking towards their area of the park. A bunch of the kids ran up to him excitedly. No doubt they had all seen his YouTube videos. She rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, he got real big. He’s built like a brick shithouse.” Her mama said

“EW! Mama, stop. You already know he’s bad news.” She said, but she knew she was right. That night at Miller’s had her realizing just how built he was compared to high school. And back then, he already had an athletic body from the rodeo riding. This was another level, as his grey Henley stuck to his skin like wax paper. 

Her mama smirked and raised her hands in innocence. She fixed the tablecloth, then looked back at the whole table. It looked perfect. Everything was set up. She made a mental checklist- cutlery, plates, the ribs, the corn, the brisket. Checking up and down that everybody’s potluck items made it onto the table. 

She turned and looked at everybody. “Alrighty! Come eat, everybody!” She announced with a smile. 

Tyler turned around at that sweet voice and noticed her. He didn’t know she was coming, granted, he didn’t know he was either. He was supposed to be doing a livestream, heading west towards the plains. But Boone and Lily had gotten a bad case of the stomach flu, so he was stranded back in his hometown with nothing to do. Until his doting aunt suggested he come check out the community picnic going on. 

She looked gorgeous. Even more so now in the daylight than when she was shrouded in the darkness of Miller’s. In a brown halter sundress with white polka dots, she was decked out in gold jewelry. Undoubtedly, it had to be real considering she was a full-time country singer. Her hair was up in a messy little up-do with little strands out that blew in the breeze.

Tyler couldn’t help the fact that the corners of his lips upturned into a smile when he saw her. Even though she had left in a confusing firestorm of rudeness, he still saw the talented, smart girl he liked way back when. 

“That’s Ms. Y/n.” One of the little boys who had been excitedly talking his ear off about tornadoes said, noticing where his gaze was. The kid couldn’t be much older than six. “She-she sings for us sometimes. She’s real pretty.” He said, kicking his feet in the dirt.

Tyler looked down at the kid, “That she is.” He nodded, and when he looked back up, he noticed her staring. He tipped his hat at her, and she rolled her eyes before quickly looking away. He smirked and started heading in line for food. 

She was waiting, letting everybody else get their plate ready. She helped hand out plates to the little ones, and if they couldn’t reach something, she’d walk over and help them. But at the moment, she was just waiting, watching the line go. When, inevitably, Tyler reached her, she looked away into the distance with a pout on her lips.

“Well, you look awful pretty today, Y/n.” He said. And when she didn’t answer him, he raised his brows. A scoff escaped him as he shook his head with a confident smile. “I don’t get what I’ve done to piss you off so damn bad.”

She finally looked at him after that and tilted her head. “I’ve heard so much about you that you’ve got a list.” 

He shook his head, blinking in surprise. Several things? What on Earth? He could barely get the balls to talk to her growing up, never mind disrespect her. But if these were things she heard about him… he couldn’t do much to disagree. 

“Well, if you got to know me, you might discover that you actually like my company. You never know.” He swiftly recovered.

“God knows. Warned us to stray away from temptation.” 

“So you’re saying I’m tempting?” He caught her with a smirk. 

Her eyes widened, and she tried to say something, but the words got caught in her throat. A flustered blush bloomed on her face as she looked up at him and his stupid green eyes. They practically glistened in the sunlight. She understood why girls could like this. He was witty, on top of his looks. But she also felt embarrassed at her own blunder.

He tilted his head toward her, “And don’t give me that. You are the furthest thing from a religious woman.” 

Oh.

She shook her head and looked away. 

He smiled, sensing he was getting to her now. “I remember you falling asleep in Sunday Mass so much that your mama started letting you stay home.” He said, recalling.

It was true. How’d he remember such an insignificant detail of her life? And more importantly, why? She was curious now. There was a deeper part of Tyler Owens she was discovering, but that scared her. This must be where the girls got trapped, when he’d remember little details about them and look at them with that deconstructing gaze. He must do this to all the girls.

“Go get your brisket, Owens.” She said before walking off with her arms crossed. 

The third time they saw each other was two weeks later. Tyler’s team had wanted to go back to Miller’s Place, having liked the atmosphere and live music. But as he pulled up in the truck, he saw a frustrated Y/n with her face in her hands, looking down at the open hood of her car. The porch lights of the bar illuminated the steam hissing out the front. Her flannel was wrapped around her waist as she kicked the front tire. 

“Stupid fuckin-” She whined.

Tyler parked immediately and stepped out. “Need any help?” 

Great. Just who she wanted to see. She was between a rock and a hard place. She felt morally obligated to ignore this man. But she was also stranded at the bar in the middle of the night, not wanting to stay much longer. She had her fair share of creeps and superfans who would be eager to see her this late and alone.

“Just a damaged hose causing a coolant leak. But it happened at the worst time ever.” She explained, crossing her arms, backing away from the car. “I made it just down the road before it started steaming, and drove it right back. None of the auto shops are gonna be open. So-“ she smacked her hips exasperated “I’m stuck.”

Tyler walked over slowly, assessing the damage. She was completely right, and though he didn’t doubt her for a second, it was nice to know it was just the hose and not the engine overheating.  “I could take you home. Drive you here in the morning.” He offered.

“And I don’t suppose you think you’re staying over?” She said, suspect.

“I don’t.” 

She was silent. She looked down at her boots and tapped her foot. Her guitar case rested on the pavement behind her. As much as she felt bad about making the assumption, how could she not? She would’ve with any other man- that wasn’t just a Tyler thing.

How pathetic was this? Needing to rely on Tyler Owens for help after she had been so stubborn. The crickets of the night chirped like the ticks of a timer as she thought about it. 

“Come on.” He groaned, “Stop being so stiff-necked and just accept the help.”

She looked at him. Then looked back at her car as the steam died down, but there was no way she’d be able to drive it back. 

“Fine.” She huffed, closing the hood, grabbing her guitar, and walking past him towards his own truck. She held herself as if she owned the place. Tyler watched her with a little smile as she stopped at the passenger side door. There was a moment of silence before she said, “Thank you.”

He ambled up to her with a smug look on his face. Before she got the chance to get in, his hand landed on the roof of the truck, preventing her from opening the door.  Wow, he was tall. Had he always been this tall? 

“You’re welcome.” He said before opening the door for her. 

She sighed, tired as she climbed in. 

When he closed the door, she looked around the truck, and it was strange. She had seen the clips of it online, but it felt surreal to be actually in it. There were all the switches and buttons that she’d rather not press, unknowing of what any of them did. 

He climbed into the driver's seat and started the truck. She pulled down the overhead mirror to check how frazzled her appearance must be, and was suddenly showered in a stack of glossy papers that fell out. 

“Wait-” He said, an embarrassed flush came over his face.

She picked up one of the papers and turned it around to find that it was a picture of Tyler with his autograph. A giggle made its way up, and it eventually turned into a full sent laugh. Sure, she had to give out autographs, too, but she didn’t have them all in her car like this. He put his thumb and index finger to his eyes and rubbed them, embarrassed. 

“Always at the ready, huh?” She said, her voice sweeter.

Huh. Was that? A joke? A real joke that wasn’t a direct insult? Sure, it was a tease, but it was lighthearted for once.

He gave her a small, embarrassed smile and took the photo from her fingers. “Look, they sell stupidly well. I look like an asshat, but if it makes enough for my team and relief aid that’s all I care about.”

“Relief aid?”

“We travel around the area. If a town’s been hit, we give out food and merch to wear.” He explained, and there was a sick feeling in her gut. Maybe… just maybe… he wasn’t a bad guy. Because that was just about the most decent thing she had heard from someone in a long time. 

She was quiet, stewing in her regret before saying, “Oh… Well, that’s great.” 

“Yeah.” He replied softly, putting the pictures back in the mirror and closing the flap, “You don’t need the mirror. You look nice as always.”

She swallowed, and he started driving. 

“You still live with your parents? Near the school?” He asked

She nodded, “Yeah. On the corner.”

“Now, what’s a big country music star doing still living with her parents?” He asked curiously.

“Really taking advantage of our first proper conversation, huh?” She chuckled, looking out the window. She watched as they drove down the familiar streets. The baseball field. The small plaza of shops where she got her prom dress, and eventually some of the sundresses she wore on her first tour. The gas station where she and her friends would get slushies after school. “I don’t like living alone. Went to Cali for almost a year to record, and felt sick every day. It only got better when I came back home.”

He nodded, “You know, it’s supposed to be the opposite. Most people spend their whole lives vying to get out of here.”

She shrugged, “They don’t have my mama’s cooking out in L.A.” She put it simply.

There was a silence. It seemed like both of them were trying to come up with something to say because the silence felt… tense. Whether it was because she was thinking about all the stories, feeling a little bad about how she talked to him, or something else entirely different was unclear. 

“I need some music.” She said, reaching over to press the play button on his car stereo.

“Wait- wait- wait- don’t-” He said, but both of his hands were on the wheel, and he wasn’t about to just slap her hand away.

She pressed play and was surprised to hear her own voice echoing back through the speakers. God, she hadn’t heard this in ages. It was her very first album before she signed with the label. It was one of the many CDs that she and her mom spent hours burning the recordings onto, and slipping the handwritten sleeves into the cases. She’d sell them at the country fair after her sets, hoping that somebody… anybody would buy them. She couldn’t remember Tyler buying one, but it had been so many years that she couldn’t say for sure.

“You listen to me?” Her voice was soft and full of surprise. She looked up at him.

Tyler took in a deep breath, and he just stared dead ahead at the road, scared to look at her. It felt like he was in high school again, and his schoolboy crush had just been revealed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He finally admitted, “I like this one. I don’t like the country rock you’re doing right now.” 

They listened to the song for a second. Her voice sounded so young and airy. Especially paired with her teenage songwriting. She chuckled, “Everyone said I sounded too much like The Chicks.” 

“You don’t. You sound like you.” He insisted. “And I like you-” 

He didn’t even realize what he just said at first. He was trying to say that he liked her voice, but ended up confessing a completely unrelated layer by accident. His eyes blinked rapidly. Jesus Christ, Owens, what are you doing?

There was a small silence. 

“And how many girls have you said that to?” She asked, not sounding like a know-it-all, but with a genuine concern for her behalf. 

Suddenly, the truck screeched as he pulled over to the dirt side of the road and parked so fast it could give her whiplash. “JESUS TYLER-” She screamed. He parked, and the music cut out.

“Why do you hate me? Huh? Who talked to you?” He asked, frustrated.

She looked at him with frantic eyes, “I-I don’t know! Everyone! Becky Mitchell, who you dumped over the phone. Jessie Roberts, who you stood up. Meghan Brinkley, who got ghosted-” 

He put his forehead to the steering wheel and let out a humongous sigh. After a moment, he sat back up. “Look, I’m not saying I didn’t do any of that… But has it occurred to you that high school was nearly eight years ago? And that I was completely fucking stupid and didn’t know what I was doing?”

She sat in silence. He was right. It was so long ago. Yet the stories had stuck so deep within her. The truck was too quiet except for the muffled cicadas outside the windows. As he talked, he made direct eye contact with her, and it made her chest tight.

“I’ve been in two actual relationships since. Not those baby play dates we all used to do.” He said, “And I regret… a lot. I know I hurt a lot of people… Except for Meghan Brinkley, she actually cheated on me.”

Yeah. Made sense for Meghan Brinkley. 

“I’m not some stupid kid anymore. And I’d just like it if you didn’t act like I was the devil incarnate because of some stupid gossip.” 

She watched him for a moment, unsure if he was going to say more. Until she swallowed and spoke, “I’m so sorry.” She finally said, “I-I was completely and utterly awful to you based on these stories and rumors that I had heard… That wasn’t fair to you.” Her hands were shaking slightly. The guilt ate at her. She wasn’t normally like this. “Would you like me… to say potentially why?”

He looked at her now with a sense of curiosity. His breathing was still a little hard, but he was calming down. It’s not like he was angry at her. He was more angry at himself that he was ever so reckless in the first place. 

“Every relationship that I’ve ever been in has been a bust. I keep trying to believe in these guys when they say they want something serious with me, but then they never do. Either I’m led along, or I’m cheated on, or I’m just completely ghosted.” She explained, then put her face in her hands, “God, this sounds so pathetic.”

Tyler shook his head. “No. No, I believe you. I am quite literally a first hand account of how shitty guys can be.” That made her chuckle, and he was glad to ease some of her tension. 

“After my boyfriend from a few years ago cheated on me with my best friend and they immediately got engaged after, I swore off men. I would never let a man make me cry that hard ever again. It wasn’t worth it.” She said, crossing her arms, nervous to be so vulnerable, “It’s not… It’s not an excuse. I still shouldn’t have been so rude. But it’s a reason why when I hear of a man who did that sort of thing, I get so mad.”

There was another bout of uncomfortable silence. 

Until Tyler looked deep into her eyes. “He’s a complete fucking idiot.”

“What?” She asked, a little surprised by his reaction.

“If you guys were thirteen years old, it’d be one thing. But for godssakes, we’re adults now! That’s a grown ass man! Playing games and hurting people.” He said, surprisingly angry. 

“It’s… fine.” 

“No, it’s not. Y/n, I was practically in love with you in high school! Some of those girls I blew off or rejected? I did it because I was too busy watching you sing in choir class, and was too scared to actually talk to you.” He explained, making her sit up, absolutely shocked. “And I know we’ve changed a lot since then, but I know deep down in my gut that any man who doesn’t realize that he has perfection with you is a goddamn fool!” 

He was practically simmering. What the hell did he just say? She sat completely up now, and they stared at each other, both in disbelief.

It’s unclear who dived in first, but their lips smashed against each other in a fury. They grabbed onto each other wherever they could with the awkward console in the middle. Face. Shoulders. Hair. It was all a mess of desperate and tangled limbs. God, she tasted like beer, and he tasted like lime. The perfect combination.

She pulled away slightly, “Can I?” She asked breathlessly, reaching over to gesture to his lap.

“Dear god, yes.”

Next thing she knew, she was climbing over the console and straddling his lap, lips barely leaving his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his messy blonde hair. She felt his hands explore her back under her tank top. His calloused hands were so warm against her skin. He held her against him like he was scared she was gonna disappear any second. This was practically his dream come true. 

He moved down and started kissing her neck. A strangled noise escaped her that only made him smirk against her skin. He kissed back up her neck and returned to her lips a little more softly. After a series of much more gentler kisses, he pulled back.

“Here’s my plan.” He said, resting his hands on her hips, his thumb brushing circles, “I’m gonna take you home, I’ll pick you up in the morning to go get a new hose from the shop. Then we’re going out for breakfast.” GOD, why was that making her want to just drag him into her bedroom more? But she knew why. She couldn’t just jump into something like this after what she’s been through. And he had a point to make. 

She nodded slowly, “I’m sorry again. For everything.” 

“It’s okay.” He said, looking up at her. He put his hand on her cheek and shifted her face to look down at him. “You’re like an EF5. Headstrong and stubborn. Winding yourself up like this. That’s what I like about you.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed him back against the seat, leaning in close to his face. “God, I swore I’d never be wrangled by you.” 

“It’s quite the opposite. I think you wrangled me.” 

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | 0.3 | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

“Look, it’s the handling, the engine and the exhaust — it’ll cost more to fix this pile of crap than it’s worth. Impound it and get yourself something worth running, sweetheart.”

That was the conversation that had kick-started Avery’s extended stay at Bradley Bradshaw’s house. 

Bradley had rolled his eyes, and stepped in, but he had walked away from the shop agreeing with the mechanic. It wasn’t about the money, or the condescending tone the mechanic had used; he just knew that the second these particular problems were fixed, another one would pop up.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” He had explained, nodding his head as he breezed along the coastal route. It’s like the 70s follow him where he goes, thrumming through the speakers and apparent in the grainy Polaroid tucked into his sun visor, observable also in his vintage Ray-Bans. “I’ll drive you around for a couple more days, and we’ll find you something to drive.” 

Her style isn’t so historic. Wind swept through her blow-dried hair, her lips glossed and her t-shirt bearing sight of a band older than herself. She picked at the soft, spring shade of varnish on her nails. Practically squirming in her seat as he laid out the plan, helpless to do anything but nod. 

Of course, she was grateful for the notion of this guy being so willing to put himself at an inconvenience just so that she would be able to get around. Taking a handout from a practical stranger just isn’t something that comes so easily.

She was really only expecting the car issue to take a few days. So, two and a half weeks later, she’s a little disgruntled to be still waking up in Bradley’s spare bedroom.

Formerly his home gym, there’s still a weight rack in the corner, a closet full of clutter, rubber flooring mats and a big workout bench that’s now squashed against the far wall — but there’s a futon in there too that makes a halfway decent bed.

It’s better than being at Maverick’s.

She has learned by now that he gets up early and works out in the backyard, sometimes going for a run down by the bay, makes himself — and often her — breakfast, and then claims the bathroom for an hour.

It’s his bathroom, so she can’t exactly complain, but she has started to wonder exactly what it is that he gets up to in there for so long.

Her routine looks a little different to his. Her shifts at the Hard Deck are tiring, and she often finishes late. For any finishes after 2am, Penny has been nice enough to send her home in a cab. Anything earlier than that, Bradley’s waiting in the parking lot or over by the pool table with his friends.

This particular morning, she wakes up later than usual, and the shower is already running. 

The distractions help. The late nights help. The person sleeping across the hall helps. But, Bradley can’t shake his bad dreams. The same sea-sick feeling that sweeps him every single morning, the suffocating feeling of waking up sticky with sweat and tangled between sheets. Avery hasn’t noticed yet that he has washed his sheets five times in two weeks, like that’ll help.

Cold numbs his toes and stings at his sore, tense shoulders. The pouring water spills over his skin, prickling like pins with each droplet. The bathroom light has been off the whole time; that helps with the headaches.

Sitting on the floor of his shower has become a tortuous part of his morning routine lately. Sitting until his fingertips wrinkle and his skin starts to lose its flush. Until the cold shocks his system into operating normally again, maybe.

He likes having her around. It makes it easier to pick himself up and get out of the shower, knowing that she’ll worry. He doesn’t doubt that she cares for him — she’s a sweet girl, and he knows that in other circumstances, they would have been great friends. He’d like to be friends now, but he understands her reservations.

The second that this is all over, she’ll run home and she’ll never want to think about Mav again.

Bradley isn’t so sure what’ll give him reason to get out of the shower once she’s gone.

He wishes that he knew what happened between them. He wishes Mav had talked about her more — though, Bradley had been thrown head first into his pre-teens back then, and probably wouldn’t have listened. He doesn’t know anything about why she calls her dad by his first name, or why he let her drive that piece of shit car, or why she stopped visiting all those years ago.

Thinking about Avery, and the things left to settle, is what drags him out of his morning fog. Keeping her going stops him from thinking of his memories of that day.

She has to be at work today at noon. She’s fitting in well over there, and the other staff are great with her. Bradley spends most of her shifts around the bar, either watching sports on the TV or talking to his friends. Occasionally, when it’s quiet, he’ll walk over to the bar and sit with her.

She talks the most then. Tells him about the elementary school she attended, and its big willow tree, and the neighbourhood pool where she broke her elbow, and the guitar lessons she took as a kid. He likes those chats.

Neither one of them talk about the fact that he still hasn’t been given the all clear to return to work himself. There’s a voicemail on his phone from two days ago that hasn’t been listened to yet, from a Commander that didn’t even jnow Bradley’s name one month ago, now saying that he cares and would like to discuss a referral to a service. A shrink.

Bradley has been before, after he first pushed a kid to the floor in the playground, a couple of weeks after his dad had passed. He remembers the drive to the office, and the worry on his mother’s placating smile. He remembers his legs dangling off of the worn-out, felted armchair. The lollipops and the pages of colouring. He figures the service he’d get now might look a little different.

This morning Avery lays in her bed; she watches raindrops spill along the window pane to her right. Pretty glum weather for California, but the West Coast has always looked pretty in shades of blue. Rain splatters the sidewalk at the front of the house, almost matching the steady pattering of the shower running on the other side of her wall.

When the shower cuts out, the noise stops on one side. 

She turns her head and looks to the closed bedroom door, wondering what time he had gotten up today. She had gone to bed at around two, and he had stayed up a little later. Last night they had watched Jaws together, and Bradley had revealed that he once hyperventilated in a swimming lesson as a kid because Mav had let him watch that movie way too young.

Mav didn’t ever let her watch scary movies. Well, he didn’t exactly have any rules at his place — but he heavily discouraged those kinds of movies. She can’t name a single thing she remembers watching with him.

She pushes back the sheets as the bathroom door clicks open, padding across the wooden floor to meet Bradley in the hallway. He has a fluffy gray towel secured around his waist and the meat of his palms are busy rubbing hard at his eyes.

He is very comfortable with his own body, and exceedingly comfortable with parading that body around his house. But, it’s his place, and she’s a guest and so forth — not that she finds much to complain about with the subject.

“Morning.” She sounds chirpy today, and he lifts one palm away to peek at her as he heads for his room. Leaning against the door frame with her knees together and hands crossed in front of her, offering him a small smile.

His voice is gruff and a little dry, tired sounding. “Morning. Didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Not at all.” It almost sounds like she’s about to follow him, just to keep the conversation going. He doesn’t hear her move though. “Have you been up long?”

And now that the conversation is still going, he can’t exactly slam the door in her face. He pushes it behind him, and leaves it open a crack as he replies. “Yeah. A couple of hours. There’s breakfast in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Today, Bradley sounds beat. Usually he is chirpy enough in the mornings, excited to see her because that means his brain might finally stop reeling. It just all feels too foggy to smile today.

“I was thinking,” Avery hums, thinking on the spot now, really — he does so much to keep her functioning, and what might make a man like him smile on a gray day? “Maybe we could go do something today. Like head out to the beach.”

“In the rain?” He doesn’t mean to sound as blunt as he does, but he just can’t pick up his tone. He pulls on clean socks and buttons his jeans, wondering if there’s a frown on her face out in that hallway.

Instead, her lips are pursed in consideration. The Washington state native in her almost laughs at the idea that a little shower makes the outdoors off limits.

If she knew him better, she’d make a witty comment about him being a chicken for being afraid of a little water — but, she doesn’t know him that well at all.

“Right,” She mumbles, looking towards the ceiling. She doesn’t know this city very well at all yet, either. “Well, what do you usually do when it rains around here?”

He makes a soft scoffing sound from inside the room. She listens to him shuffling around in there as he dresses himself for the day. 

Brown eyes flicker to the reflective surface hung above his dresser while his hands fasten at the button on his jeans. He rolls his shoulders almost instinctively, straightening out and eyeing his chest. 

He makes an effort to clear his throat as he opens the drawer with his t-shirts.

“Hole up in the Hard Deck ‘til it passes.”  

Her nose wrinkles at that. Now leaning her head back against the hallway wall, where a framed photo of Bradley and some friends from flight school sits just past her shoulder, she can’t think of much she has seen in San Diego beyond the dingy ocean bar.

“Lame.” The word passes her lips before she can really think about whether the joke will be well received, and the wince starts to creep across her features. She settles at the sound of him huffing out a sound of amusement from his bedroom.

And then, the door is tugged open and he appears. Leaning his forearm against the doorframe and raising his brows in something that isn’t either surprise or annoyance, something more pleased looking.

“Fine,” He gives a short nod, not giving much away. “Let’s do it — let’s head down to the beach. You got a coat?”

She wrinkles her nose like the idea is ridiculous. “I don’t need a coat, it’s just a little rain.”

And then, he’s standing there with his coat zipped all the way up, watching her watch the waves while wind whips at her hair and fat, heavy raindrops spill across the thin sweater she had chosen to wear. 

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, because she has already declined to take his coat twice by now, but this just doesn’t feel right. 

His hands are pushed deep into his pockets, and the cap tucked under his hood keeps the rain off of his face. 

“I guess you’re used to this all, anyway,” He thinks out loud, lips pursed as he turns his head to look at the waves for himself. She turns her head to look at him, waiting for the second part of his thought. “All the, uh — grey skies and rain, huh?”

Avery thinks of Washington, and her lips twitch. It doesn’t look like any of it would come naturally to him at all, with a wardrobe made up of almost all shorts and short sleeves, curls that have been dyed by the sun and sunglasses on even now. 

No, he’s California through and through.

”Little rain never killed anybody.” She answers him, resuming their walk, trailing boot prints through the wet sand. It takes her a second to go on. “I was thinking of taking a trip back home this weekend. You think you could find me a ride before then?”

Bradley’s footprints come to a standstill, enervated waves lapping at his boots. He doesn’t think before he speaks. “Well, I could drive you.”

She smiles, halfway wondering where this guy’s nice gestures will stop and kind of wondering if he was just raised to be this polite. “I’m sure you have better things to do this weekend than make a sixteen hour drive up the coast.”

No, he doesn’t — and after a week of nothing but constant company, he likes the thought of being alone even less than the thought of a drive like that. But, he knows he can’t tell her that.

A month ago, he would have had plenty to do on a weekend. Friends, and sports, and live music and sunsets — he hasn’t felt much like leaving the house recently. A lot of his friends were developed through service, and all of them seem to know what happened, and none of them look at him quite the same.

That’s why he prefers to wait by his car when he picks Avery up.

“I could drive you to the airport.” He acts like he’s correcting her incorrect assumption, playing it cool by digging his hands deeper into his pockets and strolling forward until they’re side by side. 

“I don’t like to fly.” 

“You’re scared of flying?” He doesn’t mean it as a challenge, or to be condescending — but he finds a little humour in the idea. 

“I didn’t say I was scared — it’s just a lot of work,” She shrugs it off. “Buying a ticket, packing a bag, going through TSA, having an assigned seat, blah, blah, blah.”

“Did Mav ever take you up in the Mustang?”

“No,” Her answer carries less humour than his question had, and she turns to peer at him over her shoulder with that same look in her eyes. It’s a wounded kind of look, tainted with maybe something like jealousy. “Did he take you?”

“No,” Bradley’s lie comes as easily as it had when he had told it to his mother — who was worried sick about her baby boy, the day that he had made his mind up on how his life was going to go. “Nah, me either.”

Bradley’s first time flying was with Maverick, shotgun in that plane. It was the day he had decided to become a pilot for real, beyond the childhood wish to be just like his daddy — that was the day he had made up his mind.

He still remembered the look on Maverick’s face when he had uttered those words on the drive back home. It’s that same kind of wounded, air-out-of-your-lungs look.

Avery figures that Bradley is lying to her. She guesses that she appreciates what he is trying to do, and knows that he is doing it to spare her feelings rather than preserve some sort of image of her father. There’s no changing his absence, his disinterest. Not anymore, anyway.

“I’d come with you, though,” Bradley veers the conversation back in the direction it had come from. “This weekend. If you wanted the company.”

She stops walking as the tide creeps towards her soles. Watching him head up the surf, piecing him together like a puzzle, wondering what about Maverick makes him feel the need to be so kind to her. “Well, I’d just be catching up with my mom and… friends and stuff…”

“Right,” Bradley’s throat goes dry at the thought of his place being empty for an entire three days. He’ll have to find something to occupy himself. “By Friday. I’ll find you something.”

Work rolls around as quickly as that afternoon’s thunderstorm. 

They ate together, she got ready for work while he trawled through used car ads, and then they took the scenic route out to Coronado. It’s a short drive, but it’s easy to make longer when you have as many questions and as great of a knowledge of the city as Bradley does.

Avery’s still five minutes early, and there’s a big smile on her face as he pulls into the parking lot. 

Heavy, booming rumbles call across the sky. Thick, dense droplets of rain splatter the windshield almost faster than the wipers can work. Billy Joel plays softly through the speakers. 

Bradley’s almost wincing but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as she swings the car door shut behind her, his coat finally accepted and hoisted over her head like a canopy as she makes the dash for the side door of The Hard Deck.

He hadn’t been joking earlier; folks here really do pile into that place on a dreary day like this one. It’s bustling, voices and music carrying across the parking lot when the door opens and closes behind her.

He sits back in his seat, one arm propped against the door of the car, tilting his head to catch a glimpse at the far right corner. As expected, he finds his friends there. Perched around the pool table, but not playing today. Out of uniform, but with regulated hair cuts and posture that gives them all away. 

They aren’t his closest friends, besides Natasha - but there’s a closeness that comes with the job. Camaraderie or something like that; they’re people that Bradley would say he trusts. People he enjoys hanging out with, for the most part. People that would be at his wedding one day, probably. 

And yet, he has been avoiding them every chance he has gotten for four weeks.

He knows that Natasha asks Avery about him when she can, and he knows that Natasha still respects him enough to not make it obvious that she’s scared for him. He’ll thank her for that at some point. 

The others, though, he isn’t sure. They might ask him how he’s doing, and he wouldn’t like to take the chance. They’re just more names to add to the growing lists of texts ignored. Tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, he doesn’t give a second thought to leaving. 

Avery, in a similar way, likes to keep busy.

As much as she wishes Bradley would stop bending over backwards to make her life easier, she appreciates that it means she never has to do something alone. The Hard Deck is the kind of place where alone time does not, and will never exist. Even when it’s quiet there are regulars sitting on those worn leather stools with a story and a smile. 

“Newbie, I’ve got a burst keg, a line that looks like LA traffic and a bachelorette party asking for twenty Lemon Drops - pick one.” Jimmy doesn’t even have to look up to start huffing orders, handing change back to a customer and grabbing a glass to start a new order all at once.

His voice is almost lost over the Hall & Oats classic blaring from the Jukebox, but it still carries every bit of the begrudging tone that he means it to. 

He’s nice enough, and he seems to have been here for as long as the place has been open — longer than the time Penny has had it for, at least. Long enough, anyway, to have decided that he knows who’s name is worth learning and who’s is not. She hasn’t taken offence to it, figuring that she’ll be out of his wispy, gray hair before he knows it. 

“I’ve got the keg.” She decides, killing him with kindness and a sweet smile. He huffs in acknowledgement, or amusement, and resigns to the grinning bachelorette on the other side of the bar. 

It’s surprising really, how quickly a shift passes when there isn’t a moment to stop. 

In fact, she barely notices that she’s done, until Jake Seresin takes a break from bothering her while she polishes glasses. He jerks his head towards the parking lot.

“Your Uber’s outside, by the way.” Jake has made sure that Avery knows who he is already. She’s unsurprised to find him leaning over the bar with a look on his face like he’s just waiting for the penny to drop.

To aid the process, he looks over his shoulder and hikes a thumb in the same direction.

Sure enough, standing outside with his chin tipped towards the shore, leaning back against the hood of his car — there’s Bradley. Watching the night sky, totally in a world of his own. 

Jake gives her a minute to stare at him while he, in turn, stares back at her. He’s not exactly counting down the seconds, but he knows the look of a woman who is taking her sweet time eyeing someone up. Fingers drumming nimbly against the bar, a smile has already stretched across his lips by the time she remembers to look back to him.

There’s a suggestion in the way his brows raise. A look in the flash of his green eyes. An absolute smugness in the smile on his face. “So, big guy taking care of you alright?”

And, in a play that Jake himself couldn’t have even hoped for, she falls right for the bait. 

It’s just the cocky way his eyes glint and the subtle suggestiveness to his tone, the way his eyebrow quirks just the smallest degree.  

Flush crossing her cheeks and an immediate alarm flashing across her eyes, she straightens up and puts some space between them. “No, no - it’s not like that.”

Dimples press into the corners of his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he cocks his head to a twenty degree angle. His voice is pure wouldn’t-know-better, country boy innocence as he quips, “Like what?”

Realisation hits with a beat. A grin crosses her face, her body slumping in relief as her eyes roll on instinct. He’s messing. 

“Ha. Ha.” She scoffs, leaning forward again to prop her hands against the bar. Just as quickly as that shock and embarrassment had crossed her face, it becomes  “Don’t you have anyone worrying about you? — This late on a Friday night and it’s just you and your best buddy.”

Jake huffs out a soft laugh, checking back over his other shoulder at Coyote, tossing a round of darts by himself in Jake’s absence. 

“Honey, I’m a free agent.” Jake smiles, and she gets it. She has heard the girls at the bar whispering about him every time he’s here, and she has always found him a little… underwhelming. But, the drawl in his voice when he calls her honey finally makes it click — she gets it, he’s hot.

But, it doesn’t quite work. 

Her eyes flicker downward, lingering on the glossed bar top. As her mouth stretches into a smile on her own, Jake follows her gaze downward until he finds what’s got her looking so smug. His phone resting there against the surface, released absentmindedly from his palm while he had been busy getting under her skin.

She looks between him, and the bell that hangs behind her.

Now, the rule’s pretty clear about what happens to those who dare to drop their phones on the bar.

She smiles, suddenly sweet as pie, and reaches under the bar to grab her little shoulder bag. Settling it against her body, she reaches across and pats him on the swell of his shoulder. 

“I’ll keep this one between us,” She hums, taking a quick glance outside at where Bradley is waiting for her, and then looking back to Jake with mischief in her eyes. “Honey.”

She leaves him with the taunt, grinning to herself about it, and just starting to think that maybe she might be able to like this place. 

Brisk air catches at her hair, nipping at the thin sleeves covering her arms. 

Bradley is perched against the hood of his car, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes on the ground. He hears her coming from the moment the door to the Hard Deck opens, but he doesn’t look up until she is just a couple of feet away.

He has been crying.

Instinctively, he lifts his palm and scrubs it across his face, like that will do anything to solve his red, blotchy cheeks, or still glossy eyes. He swallows thickly and clears his throat, his brows drawing together.

”Hey…” Avery slows to almost a stop, confusion settling across her face, hanging back like keeping her distance from him will protect her from what’s coming.

”Come on, we should go.” He says, his voice gruff. 

Now, she does stop moving, and shakes her head.

”Tell me what happened.” She’s still soft with him, which makes it worse. It sparks an anger in him that isn’t her fault, and wasn’t her father’s — the fault is his. It’s always been his. 

His breathing hitches and his fists ball at his sides. He hasn’t cried in front of anyone but Natasha in years, and now isn’t the time to start. With everything he has taken from you already, he won’t take the opportunity to grieve just because he can’t be strong.

”They left you a voicemail. You should listen to it.” His whisper is almost swept away by the coastal breeze, but she hears him just about.

Neither one of them says a word as they settle into the vehicle, seatbelts unbuckled and engine off. Avery rests her phone against her knee and lets the message play out loud, the voice of Admiral Simpson ringing out loud and clear.

As of eleven-fifty that evening, the search had been called off. The decision had been made, the paperwork was being drawn up. Maverick was gone, and there wasn’t a person in the world who could do anything about it. 

…

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Urban Cowboy - Jake Seresin x Reader

pairing: Jake Seresin x f! reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v, mildly mean!dom Jake, teasing, jealous Jake

word count: 3.2k

The sounds of some 80s pop song echoed throughout the Hard Deck, a cheap colourful strobe light flashed around the room, its rainbow coloured beams striking random bargoers as they began to dance along to whatever was playing. It was new idea your aunt had come up with - doing theme nights at the bar once a month as a way to freshen things up and breathe new life into the military bar scene. 

Since you moved here four months ago, you’d gotten familiar with the regulars - there was Bradley Bradshaw, a man far older than he looked, with a penchant for comandeering the piano if the bar needed livening up, Natasha Trace, who had a fiery personality and often kept the other guys in their place, especially when the beers were flowing and they started flirting with unsuspecting patrons, Robert Floyd, the shy backseater who was always polite, tipped well and seemed to be the permanent designated driver on nights out, Reuben Fitch, who stood about a foot taller than you, and always had a witty comeback on hand, just in case, Mickey Garcia, who was sweet, but could talk anyone’s ear off about Star Trek, and Javy Machado, resident score keeper and pool table champion. 

Leading the group, was your Aunt Penny’s boyfriend, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He often would come in, finding a table at the back of the room for his squad before abandoning them to spend the evening at the bar, chatting your aunt up and offering up any excuse to come behind the bar and sneak a hand to her hip or steal a squeeze of her rear. It was sweet the way your aunt and Pete were loved up, like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

This afternoon, Pete came in at four o’clock sharp, just as he promised to help set up. As he hung a couple of decorations you and your aunt had managed to find online, he turned to you and smiled, watching as you prepped the theme night’s cocktail menu.

“I forgot to tell you, another one of my guys is going to be here tonight. He’s been off training at a different base for the last few months, just landed in this morning. You’ll like him. He’s a firecracker.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying he’s a cocky asshole?”

“I wouldn’t say asshole. He’s just very…confident. I think you’ll like him though.”

“Are you talking about Jake?” Penny piped up as she looked at Pete, watching as he climbed up the step ladder to hang another decoration from the ceiling.

“Yeah, don’t you think they’d hit it off?”

“I think she might hit him.”

“What? No way. Jake’s not that bad.”

Penny scoffed and shook her head, laughing. Holding her hands up in surrender, she walked away, retreating back to the bar to begin making sure all the key ingredients to your drink menu were where they needed to be. You continued to stuff the evening’s special menus into their plastic protective sleeves, shaking your head at Pete’s attempts to try and set you up with someone from his squad. It wasn’t the first time, you’d been on a date with Bradley once before, but found the age gap was too great between the two of you, with Bradley in complete agreement that you were much better suited as friends than lovers, and on a date with Reuben, who, despite efforts between the two of you, there was no chemistry shared there. 

As five o’clock approached, you hurried into the back stockroom to change into your themed outfit for the night, pulling your hair out of the velcro rollers that Penny had helped you wrap your hair up into, creating the perfect 80s voluminous curl that would make even Christie Brinkley jealous. Your tight fitting Daisy Duke style shorts accentuated your curves, hugging your thighs and hips in all the right places, your crisp white button down shirt tied just under your bra, showing off your tanned, soft midsection. A pair of mid-sized silver hoop earrings hung from your earlobes to complete the look. Your aunt’s stash of Aqua-Net hairspray was all you needed to finish it off, stepping out the back door to shake your curls out and spray them with enough hairspray to ensure they wouldn’t budge for the night. 

You reentered the bar to find Pete’s friends piling in, the other regular patrons all trickling in and getting comfortable as they came through, turning the bar into a sea of cheesy fake mustaches and 80s style Hawaiian shirts, brightly coloured polos and coordinating Bermuda shorts, wigs and legwarmers. The evening was quickly livening up, and you got to work behind the bar with your aunt, pulling pints and mixing drinks, firing off orders left right and center as the bar filled with partygoers. 

An hour into the night, Bradley approached the bar, his aviator sunglasses perched atop his chocolate coloured curls, his loud, brightly coloured Hawaiian print shirt buttoned just enough to allow a few sparing curls of chest hair to peek out from the top. He leaned against the bar, smiling at you, his mustache neatly combed to closer resemble a style from the 80s. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was trying to emulate Tom Selleck. You’d seen pictures of Bradley’s dad and Pete from back in the 80s, and recognized the shirt anywhere. It was clear Bradley was dressed identically to his father, and you had to admire the dedication he had to the theme. 

“What can I get you, Bradshaw?”

“Hi dollface, I’ll take a Budweiser. And a chance to take you for a spin later?”

“We’ve done this before, Bradley,” you laughed as you cracked the top off the beer bottle and slid it across the counter to him. Bradley shook his head as he sipped the frothy liquid, grinning as he set the bottle down on the counter.

“I didn’t mean you. I’m practicing. I can’t be dressed like this and not use some kind of weird 80s shit to impress a girl, right? I’m just…using you for practice. Did it work?”

“Bradley, why don’t you, I don’t know, just, be yourself?” 

“Because tonight I’m not myself. I’m some single 39 year old in the 80s trying to get a date, apparently.”

“Well then, gag me with a spoon, that was gnarly. Try a different line. One that doesn’t begin with “dollface”?”

“Got it, thanks!”

You watched as Bradley sauntered away to go try his luck with a pretty blonde over by the jukebox. You smirked to yourself as you heard Bradley start singing along to Madonna, carrying the tune with an impressive baritone that you weren’t expecting. You knew he could sing, but singing Madonna was a whole new side to him. Turning your back for a moment, you began fixing a drink for yourself, mixing together the ingredients for a Shirley Temple. You looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man approach the bar counter, his hair slicked back, and a blonde mustache that made poor Bradley’s look unimpressive rested on his upper lip. The most stunning pair of bright green eyes looked at you, and a set of perfectly straight, whitened teeth fresh out of a Colgate commercial flashed a smile at you.

“Hi Darlin’, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”

“Sure thing,” You nodded, trying hard not to audibly gulp at the adonis of a man standing in front of you. 

“Are you new ‘round here?” he drawled, “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”

“Uh, within the last four months, yeah.” you nodded as you finished pulling a pint of draught for him, the frothy head of the beer perfectly resting in the glass. 

“Oh! That’ll explain it. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service, m’am.” He winked, and you felt yourself melt a little at the sight of this human embodiment of a Ken doll flirting with you. 

“You’re Jake?”

“Depends who’s askin’, Honey.” His accent was thick and heavy, something straight out of those reruns of The Andy Griffiths Show that your mom made you watch when you were a child.

“I’m Penny’s niece,” you nodded, giving him your name and laughing softly as your cheeks blushed, “I moved down here to help her out with things around here while I try to figure some life things out.”

“I see,” he smirked, sipping his beer, the foam brushing against his mustache as he set the glass down. “And does that list of things you’re figuring out include finding a strong, charming, handsome Southern boy?”

“It might, do you know any?” You quipped, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your own drink, pretending to feign disinterest in the handsome stranger before you.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“That so, hun? Who? Do I know him?”

“Not yet, but I think he sure would like to know you, Darlin’.”

You shook your head, your curls bouncing as you started to laugh, unable to control yourself. Jake was as bold as he was handsome, and you were suddenly realizing what Pete was referring to when he said that Jake was confident. He practically exuded a cocksure confidence from every pore in his body. And while that would normally repulse you and send you heading for the hills, with Jake, it felt different. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his magnetic charms and graces pulling you in, and your inhibitions wearing down. However, you also knew how to deal with men like this - he was in need of an ego check, and you were just the person for the job. 

“Is that right? Well, you tell your little Southern-fried wannabe cowboy of a friend that if he’s interested, he’s going to have to stick around the bar all night. I promised Aunt Penny I’d help her make sure this night went smoothly, and I don’t need a knockoff Dukes of Hazzard cast member distracting me.” 

“Wannabe cowboy?” Jake gasped in feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically as he slipped into an even thicker accent than earlier, “Now Darlin’, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re breakin’ my heart over here. One thing I ain’t is a wannabe cowboy. You know, I used to ride in rodeos as a kid? Was one of the best there was for under 15 year olds, ‘til I decided to join the Navy instead.”

“Oh, so you’re like, a real cowboy then,” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“S’pose you could say that. Only one real way to find out, ain’t there?”

“Take you to a farm and watch you wrangle cattle on horseback?” you retorted sarcastically.

“You’re funny, I like that.”

“I bet you do.” 

Jake leaned in across the bar, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, his bright green eyes fixated on your lips as you spoke. His long eyelashes fluttered at you as he eyed you up, practically undressing you with his imagination. You grinned as you gestured to the sign behind you, reading that if you disrespect a lady, you owe everyone a round. 

“Watch it, Lieutenant. If you’re not careful, I’ll go ring that bell and you’ll learn a very expensive lesson.”

“Oh, Darlin’, I can guarantee, I ain’t gonna learn anything from it. I’m just dumb enough to do it again. Can’t help myself around a pretty girl like yourself.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed at his relentless attempt. You knew the only reason he persisted was because you were teasing him, but at the same time, you didn’t mind the attention he was giving you. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as broad shouldered, but he was built like a linebacker, with a solid frame and the accent alone was enough to drive you crazy.

It was almost 11 when Jake stopped you again, this time, outside of the stockroom when you’d disappeared back there for more maraschino cherries and pineapple juice. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, causing his pastel-coloured polo shirt to bulge around his biceps. His lips curled up in that annoyingly perfect smile once again as he stood in your path.

“Hey, Honey, need a hand with that?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you shrugged it off, shaking your head as you smirked at him, “You often follow girls into storage rooms?”

“Only the ones worth following.”

“Wow, Lieutenant, with a response like that, it’s a wonder you don’t have a trail of broken hearts following you around.”

“What is your issue, anyway? You got a thing against blondes? Pilots?”

“Please,” you smirked, shaking your head, “I went on a date with Rooster. He’s a pilot.”

“Is it ‘cause I’m from Texas?”

“No, it’s because you’re probably the most arrogant prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of coming across, actually. God, it’s like you think all you have to do is flash that stupid handsome smile and I’ll throw myself at you.”

Jake’s face fell slightly as he raised an eyebrow at you. You could tell he wasn’t used to having a girl put him in his place like this, but his crestfallen gaze was quickly replaced by that shit-eating grin he seemed to never go without sporting. 

“Honey, you’re real pretty when you get mean like that.”

“You’re impossible,” you sighed in exasperation.

“But you love it, don’t you?” 

Jake closed the gap between the two of you as he spoke, taking a couple steps closer to you. You bit your lip as you hesitated, thinking about the consequences that might follow if you acted on your desires. 

Fuck it. 

Your hands gripped the fabric of his polo shirt, pulling him down to your height as you crashed your lips into his passionately. You kissed a slow, hot trail up to his ear, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he put his hands on your hips to bring you in as close as possible, his body heat radiating on to you. 

“You gonna show me just how good you are, Cowboy?”

“Yes, m’am. I reckon I could show you a better time than any other man in here.”

Jake’s hand slipped down your curves, reaching around to cup your ass cheeks as he hoisted you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around your waist. You quickly discarded the cherries and juice that were in your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Jake’s lips worked their way along your neck, wet, fervent kisses that made your body squirm with pleasure, your arousal growing and burning in your stomach with each second. 

“Back door?” He murmured against your neck, his hands keeping a firm hold of your ass.

“Two steps behind me, to the left,” you panted, nodding your head as he sucked on your skin. 

It was unseasonably warm for May, the humidity hanging in the air as you left the air conditioned building. Jake pushed you up against the wall, using it as leverage as he quickly reached down to undo your shorts and wiggled them out of the way. He ran two of his thick fingers along the outside of your lace underwear, stroking the dampened fabric as he smirked to himself.

“Someone’s eager, aren’t ya, Darlin’?”

“Just shut up and fuck me, ok?”

“Now, that any way to ask for it?”

A wicked grin appeared on his face as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, stroking at your clit with a feather light touch, just enough to make you whine for more. 

“Jake, I swear to fuck, if you don’t take me right now.”

“Shhh, Sugar, don’t want anyone to hear, do ya? Unless you get off on getting caught,” He purred as he coaxed his fingertips inside of your dripping entrance, pumping them into you with precision.

You tossed your head backwards as Jake thrusted his fingers further into you, each movement harder and faster than before. The determined look in his eye alone was almost enough to send you over the edge. This man was hell-bent on making you orgasm, and he was on the right track to get you there within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, s-so close, Jake,” you keened, your fingers gripping his thick blonde hair as he brought you to your climax.

“That’s it, Sugar. Look at you, you’re a mess and I ain’t even started on you yet.”

“J-Jake, please,” you whimpered, coming undone as he fucked his fingers into you at a breakneck pace.

“Speak up, sweetheart, can’t hear ya.”

Your head started to spin as he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he slammed his hips forwards, shoving his thick cock inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy at the sudden fullness. Trying to be quiet, you secretly thanked your lucky stars that the sounds of Your Love by The Outfield blared throughout the club. Just as the chorus picked up, Jake rocked his hips forwards again, fucking himself into you with enough force to make you feel as though he might blow your back out right then and there.

“That’s it, Sugar, takin’ me so well,” Jake smirked, “What was that you said about bein’ a wannabe cowboy? Bet those other boys can’t fuck you like this, now can they?”

You were practically rendered speechless by Jake’s precise, rhythmic thrusts into your cunt, his masculine grunting and teasing proving enough to throw you back over the edge once again. Your legs began to shake and shudder while he bucked his hips up into you, his eyes full of lust and hunger as he brought you to your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a low, pornographic moan out of Jake. 

Raking your fingers through his hair, tugging on it as you threw your head back, you screamed out his name, louder than you intended. You lost your ability to hold yourself together as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm following close behind yours. 

“Fuck, am I good?” He groaned, his eyes pleading for permission.

“On the pill, you’re good,” you panted, nodding quickly as Jake let himself go inside of you, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he repeated it over and over, praising you.

“Now, how ‘bout letting a strong, handsome Southern boy take you out on a date so he don’t feel so bad about fucking you until you can’t walk a couple hours after meetin’ ya?” He grinned as he readjusted himself and pulled his clothes back up. 

“I think I can fit you into my schedule, on one condition.”

“Mhmm? What’s that?”

“Next time, you come wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Deal, Sugar, I’ll even let you wear it.” 

[callsign-dexter]

Knight in a Hawaiian Shirt (18+)

Request: Ok, I saw Top Gun Maverick again what feels like the 100th time, and I still love it so much ! It gets me goosebumps during so many scenes !

So I was wondering if you'd consider a Bradley Bradshaw imagine where he lays his eyes on a girl at the Hard Deck, who currently has a nasty conversation with a weird guy and Bradley notices how uncomfortable she feels, so as the gentlemen he is, he saves the girl, acting like her boyfriend and she's more than happy about that. After that they meet up regularly and she even stays over at his apartment from time to time (just cuddling) and one night as he holds her close, whispers in her ear that he loves her and thinks he's asleep, but you hear him, kiss him and if you like some smut, but if not, then just even more cuddles 😊

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

Masterlist

A/N: @gunsandguardians and @imagine-all-the-fandoms prepare yourselves for some Bradley Bradshaw smut!

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw was having a day, no scratch that, Bradley was having a rough week. His jet had several malfunctions, he had meetings non-stop, Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was breathing down his neck to get certain numbers and data, and to top it all off he and the rest of The Daggers took on a teaching position and the new Top Gun cadets were putting them through the ringer. He had to teach a multitude of young versions of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Also, all the females in the class were flirting with him and it was making his jaw tick and teeth clench. It was Friday which meant that it was time to let the load off and relax. Everyone had decided to go to The Hard Deck and he agreed very quickly and now he was leaning against the wall on his fourth beer of the night and he could practically feel the tension melt away. He had showered at the base getting rid of the smell of jet fuel and had changed into his typical Hawaiian shirt, white undershirt, jeans, and shoes. “What a day.” Jake said coming up to him, usually he was cocky and could match the energy but even he was admitting it was a tough day. After the mission the tension seemed to die down between them and they actually became friends.

“Day? What a week.” Bradley said, taking a drink and Jake nodded.

“You got that right.” Jake said 

“Bagman get over here so I can beat your ass at pool.” The voice of none other than Natasha 'Phoenix’ Trace said.

“You’re going down.” Jake said and started to walk over to her after patting Bradley on the shoulder. As the atmosphere around him grew into the usual Friday night crowd. He was tending to blend in with the crowd not looking to hook with anyone but that doesn’t mean he could still look around. 

“Hey.” Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd said to him and he was turning to look at him.

“You just got in here?” Bradley asked and Bob nodded.

“Yea, I needed to talk to Maverick and Cyclone about taking maternity leave.” Bob said he was married to his high school sweetheart and they were expecting a little boy. Finding out he was married shocked everyone.

“How is Marie and the baby doing?” Bradley asked

“She’s doing well. Ready to be done with the pregnancy especially since it has been so hot. Baby is healthy and stirring up trouble. I won’t be staying long.” Bob said

“Good. Yea I might not be staying long either. It’s been a tough week.” Bradley said and Bob nodded. Bob was then being pulled away by Phoenix which once again left Bradley alone. Throughout the night everyone had come up and talked to him and he mingled around. Currently everyone was crowded around the pool table and dart board. As they talked and mingled with each other and other patrons in the bar. At some point Natasha came over and started talking to him about a show that they were both watching. As he listened and gave input a distressed female voice, yours, and a very drunk voice came to his ears and he looked over in that direction. 

When he looked over, he was quickly breath taken at how beautiful you were. He wondered if his father, Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw, felt about his mother, Carole Bradshaw. As he was admiring you the more of the conversation he heard and the more he concentrated on your body language and face. He could see how uncomfortable he was. Being the gentleman, he was raised to be he wasn't going to stand for a female to be harassed and was surprised he hadn't had the bell rang or thrown out but after seeing the crowd in the bar he understood it would be hard to keep up. “Are you even listening?” She asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face and he turned to look at her.

“No sorry.” He said and she looked to where he was looking at.

“She's cute but I don't like how close that man is. She's very uncomfortable.” Natasha said and he nodded.

“I'm going to go do something about it.” He said and she smiled.

“Go be her knight in a Hawaiian shirt.” She said, pushing him. 

“I plan on it. I'll talk to you later.” He said and she nodded and he began his walk over to you. As he got closer the better, he could hear and it made his blood boil.

“How about me and you go back to my place and we can have some fun.” The man smirked.

“I'm not interested. Leave me alone, please.” You asked, trying to look for an escape.

“Oh, come on. I'm a lot of fun I promise. I can leave you satisfied.” He said

“I told you I'm not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You said 

“I think they'll understand.” He said as he touched your arm and you flinched and was about to say something when Bradley beat you to it.

“They you are, Babe. I've been looking everywhere for you.” Bradley said and both you and the man looked up at him as he slung and arm around your shoulders.

To be honest you didn't want to come out tonight but it was your best friend’s, Shiloh, birthday and he wanted to go bar hopping. He begged you and after so long you finally agreed so you, him, his fiancé, Blake, and 3 other friends, Makayla, Rebecca, and Ruby, went on a bar hopping spree. As the night grew and you had been to several bars you actually started to ease into it and have fun. After visiting 3 other bars, you had barely drunk anything, so he decided to go to a cute little bar on the beach. He had about it and talked highly of it and what really sold you was the fact that it was a Navy bar, something about men in uniform did something to you. You had just arrived and had made your way over to a table and looked around. “This is cute.” Shiloh said, looking around.

“It is! Oh look, men in uniform!” Rebecca said practically squealing. 

“Would you keep it down? You'll get their attention.” Makayla said blushing but she couldn't deny that they were all good looking. You scanned the group but one caught your eye. He had a mustache and was in a Hawaiian shirt instead of the Khaki uniform. As you stared and daydreamed Blake spoke up. 

“I'm getting drinks. Everyone want something?” Blake asked

“Yes!” The group said and you nodded. Everyone told him what they wanted and he was off. It wasn't a few minutes later and he was coming back with drinks in hand. As the night went on you engaged with the group topic at hand and your attention forgot all about the man in a Hawaiian shirt. 

The 6 of you stayed longer at this bar, which you learned was named The Hard Deck, then any of the others but you weren't complaining. As the night went on you needed to use the bathroom so you nudged the closest person to you which happened to be Blake. “Hey I'm going to the bathroom; I'll be right back.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“We'll be here.” He said and you chuckled and then left. You squeezed your way through and to the bathroom. You got in and to a stall and quickly did your business. Once you were done you walked out and washed your hands and headed out. You didn't get far from the bathroom before some sleazy drunk man was trapping you. 

“Hey beautiful lady.” He said and the stench of alcohol hit your nose and made it scrunch up.

“Please leave me alone.” You said trying to push past him.

“Oh, come on. I just want to get to know you better.” He said now smiling and it made your stomach flip.

“Please leave me alone. I need to get back to my friends.” You said and then his hand came to touch your arm and you tensed up.

“How about me and you go back to my place and we can have some fun.” The man smirked.

“I'm not interested. Leave me alone, please.” You asked, trying to look for an escape.

“Oh, come on. I'm a lot of fun I promise. I can leave you satisfied.” He said

“I told you I'm not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You said 

“I think they'll understand.” He said as he touched your arm and you flinched but he wasn't paying attention to it.

“They you are, Babe. I've been looking everywhere for you.” A male voice said and both you and the man looked up at him as he slung and arm around your shoulders. He leaned down to your ear “Just go along with it.” He said and kissed your temple.

“Who the fuck are you?” The drunk man, you didn't even know his name, said.

“I'm her boyfriend. I've been looking for her everywhere. I got out of work late and was late getting here.” He said the tension you had melted away.

“I'm sorry I didn't wait for you. I wanted to get here and get a good table.” You said 

“It's ok, Babe.” He said and then turned towards the man who looked pissed. “I think it's time for you to leave. Leave before I have Penny ring the bell and you have to pay for everyone's round.” He said.

“Fucking bitch.” The drunk man said. 

“Penny!” The mustache man said and Penny looked over “Ring the bell. We have someone being disrespectful to a woman.” He said and she smiled and nodded. The sound of the bell rang and cheers erupted throughout the bar. The drunk man grumbled and walked off.

“Thank you so much.” You said looking up at him while moving to be in front of him and he looked down at you and smiled.

“It was my pleasure. I'm Bradley.” He said 

“I'm Y/N. I'm here with friends that decided to go bar hopping for another's birthday.” You said and Bradley smiled.

“Your group picked a good place to stop. The Hard Deck is a very nice place to be.” Bradley said and you nodded.

“I can agree with that. We've stayed here the longest out of all of them. I can't thank you enough for saving me from that man.” You said 

“I couldn't let a beautiful girl like you be harassed. My mom would beat my ass if I did.” He said and you chuckled. 

“Your Mom sounds like a smart woman.” You said

“She was. I lost her when I was 18.” He said 

“Oh gosh. I'm so sorry.” You said and he smiled. 

“I want to take you out on a date.” He said and you smiled.

“I would like that.” You said pulling out your phone and handing it to him and he was quick to grab his. You put your number in his phone and he put his in yours. 

“Pick you up at 7 tomorrow night?” He asked and you smiled up at him.

“That'll be perfect. I really need to get back to my friends.” You said and he smiled and nodded. 

“Can I walk you over to them? Just so nobody tries anything unwanted.” He asked and you smiled and he was already winning you over.

“I would really like that.” You said 

“Lead the way.” He said and so you did. 

“There you are! We were worried but then I saw you with this hunk of a man,” Shiloh said visibly checking him out but so was Blake “I knew you were good.” He said and you laughed.

“This here is Bradley and he saved me from a drunk man and got Penny to ring the bell on him.” You said

“Well, it's nice to meet the man that saved our girl.” Blake said and you blushed and then introduced everyone to him.

“Nice to meet you all.” He said 

“Yo Bradshaw!” Another male voice yelled and everyone looked over. 

“Now I have to go. I'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.” Bradley said the last part was directed at you.

“I'll text you the address.” You said

“Sounds perfect.” He said and then he was leaving as he was back with his group. You turned to yours and everyone was smiling.

“Oh, shut up.” You said and everyone laughed. The rest of the night consisted of you and Bradley sneaking glances at each other and blushing while looking down and smiling, Bradley would throw winks at you occasionally. You couldn't wait until tomorrow night.

The next day you were anxious about your date with Bradley that night. When you had gotten home the night before you sent him a quick text thanking him for saving you and your address. As the day grew on leading up to the night you were trying to figure out what to wear and sending text messages to everyone. 

3 hrs before the date there was a knock on the door and you were quick to go and open it. Behind the door was Blake and Shiloh. “We've come to help.” Blake said.

“I really don't need help.” You said but they looked you up and down and Shiloh pulled a face.

“Oh, Sweetie, you need us.” He said

“Is what I'm wearing that bad?” You asked

“It's not great.” He said as he led you to your closest and sat you down as he started to go through your closet with the occasional ‘no’ ‘definitely not’ ‘why do you still have this?’ you just sat back and smirked and chuckled at your best friend’s tactics. You loved him dearly and trusted him full heartedly. 

“You helped me pick some of this out. Just remember that.” You said and he stopped and looked at you.

“Yes, I remember. Everything is great but not for a first date with a hunk of a handsome man.” He said and you looked over at Blake.

“Do you hear your fiancée?” You asked

“I do and I agree.” He said and your mouth dropped open and you let a little scoff but it was a playful one. 

“Oh, this is perfect!” Shiloh finally said and pulled out a cute shirt that complimented your eyes. He held it up to you and nodded in approval “Yup this is the one.” He said and then handed it to you and then he went to your chest of drawers and started to root around them until he found a nice pair of jeans and then grabbed some comfortable shoes. 

“What would I do without you?” You asked

“Be unfashionable.” He said and you chuckled. You got dressed in your bathroom and then came out and they were both giving their approval. By the time you were done it was 7 and there was a knock on the door. Before you could even get out of the bedroom Blake was rushing to get the door. You could hear them laugh and talk and then you were walking out.

“You look beautiful.” He said 

“Thank you. You look handsome.” You said and he smiled.

“Thank you.” He said 

“Alright you two. Don't stay out too late and don't get into trouble. Call if you need anything.” Shiloh said as he was ushering the two of you out and closing the door behind you both.

“Sorry about them. I wasn't planning on them being there.” You said as you both walked to his Bronco.

“Nonsense. It's nice to have friends like them two.” He said 

“Yea they're pretty great. So, where are we headed?” You asked

“I hope you like Thai food. There is a place that has really good curry and pad thai.” He said 

“Thai food is one of my favorites.” You said as he drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with small talk and getting to know each other. When you arrived, he parked and was quick to get out to open your door. “Thank you.” You said.

“Anything for a beautiful woman like you.” He said and you blushed like mad. You both walked in and he gave them his name and you both were quickly being led to a table outside.

“I love the smell of the ocean and the sea breeze.” You said and he smiled.

“I love it too.” He said

“It seems we have a lot in common.” You said and he chuckled and nodded.

“It seems like it.” He said the date went smoothly. You both ordered the same thing and the same drink. You both laughed and shared stories until the restaurant started to close and both of you were forced to leave. “Want to walk the beach?” He asked as the sunset and casted a golden glow over everything and made him look much more attractive.

“I would love to.” You said and so the two of you set out walking the beach. Your pinkies touched each other and danced until your hands were coming to hold each other's. Both of you ended up sitting on the beach watching the waves crash into the beach and the moonlight lit everything up. It was a little chilly and he could tell so he brought you into his side. You laid your head on his shoulder testing the waters and when he brought you closer and didn't push you off you knew it was going to be great. It was getting late and you started to yawn.

“Are you ready to go back?” He asked

“Not really but it's getting late.” You said and he smiled. 

“I would love to continue this on another date.” He said and you smiled looking up at him as he looked down at you.

“I would love that.” You said and he was kissing the top of your head. You both got up and headed to his Bronco. He held your head on the way there and held it when he was driving you home. When you arrived at home, he walked you to your door and waited until you were inside before he left. It was dark when you got in which meant that Shiloh and Blake were gone. You smiled to yourself as you changed into something comfy. When you sat on your couch your phone dinged.

Bradley Bradshaw: Had a great time tonight. Can't wait to do it again.

You smiled and giggled and started to text back.

I had a great time too. How about next Saturday?

You didn't have to wait long before he responded.

Bradley Bradshaw: That sounds perfect.

How about a picnic on the beach at sundown maybe in the back of your Bronco?

Bradley Bradshaw: I would love that. Consider it a date.

You giggled and kicked your feet. You couldn't wait until next Saturday. You texted your friends letting them know you were home and that you had a second date and they all texted back in the group chat almost immediately. You answered and when everything seemed to calm down you put your phone next to you and turned on the TV already thinking about what to make.

Saturday rolled around and you were less nervous about this date then the one before and you had to admit to yourself that you were actually starting to fall in love with the mustached Naval Aviator. He has been the perfect gentleman to you and he considers your feelings when it comes to things. Throughout the week you two have been texting nonstop and some late-night phone calls were thrown in there as well and each time he had you blushing like mad and feeling things that no other man has made you feel. Throughout the week you were thinking of what you should bring on this picnic in the back of his prized Bronco. As the two of you talked and what seemed like 100 questions were asked you had some idea what to pack and a lot of it was your favorite foods. 

As the days rolled on and it was getting closer to Saturday you were beginning to feel nervous and maybe second guessing everything but as you talked with him more and more all of those feelings went away. When Saturday rolled around and he was knocking on your door and you answered it the nerves seemed to have gone away fully especially when you saw him standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite chocolates that you had gone on about and how hard they both were to find. “Hi.” You said breathlessly and he smiled.

“Hi.” He replied back. “These are for you. I know you said they were both hard to find but when you have the right people and they owe you favors you can get them easily.” He rambled on and you just continued to smile and you leaned up and kissed him to get him to stop, sparks flew and you hoped they flew for him too.

“Thank you so much.” You said when you broke away. Then you realized that it was your first actual kiss that you both shared and he had this stunned look of love on his face and in his eyes. 

“You’re very welcome.” He said breathlessly.

“Let me put these up and the flowers in a vase and grab the basket then we can go.” You said and then turned around and walked into the kitchen and he followed and shut the door behind him. You both agreed that you would be the one to make the picnic basket since you knew more about food and how to cook. He did say he could cook but had no clue on what to include so you said that you would handle and boy was he glad you did. He watched you move effortlessly through the kitchen and grab a vase, fill it with water and then cut the flower’s stems and put them in. When you were done you turned to him “Alright, I’m ready to go. Do you care to grab the basket?” You asked and he smiled.

“I would love to do anything for you.” He said and you blushed and he smiled as he grabbed the basket and the both of you headed out of your house making sure to lock it and to his Bronco. He carefully put the basket in the back and opened the door for you and then got into the driver’s side and headed off to the secluded spot on the beach that he loved to go to when he needed to get away. 

“So where are we going?” You asked

“It's a secluded area of the beach that I go to when I need to get away. It’s so peaceful and the sunset is breathtaking.” He said and you smiled already knowing that you’re going to love it. As he drove, music played softly and you both were getting to know each other more. 10 minutes later he was pulling into the spot and then he turned around and backed the Bronco up so you both could sit on the tailgate or in the back like you both planned on it. He helped you up into the back and you got comfortable and then he was falling right behind you. You opened the basket and the both of you got what you wanted out and the date started, well it started when he picked you up but it really started when the sun began to set. You snuggled into him and he embraced it. The date went smoothly and you both were having a great time. The waves crashing against the rocks, the warm sea breeze that was slightly misting, and the music he had softly in the background was making it perfect. You could get used to this.

“This is perfect.” You said and he smiled.

“You’re perfect.” He said looking down at you and looked up at him. The sunset was casting a beautiful glow across his skin and it made him that more irresistible. You don’t know how long you stared at each other but you both were slowly leaning into each other until your lips were touching and once again sparks flew. You two only broke apart when air was needed and then you were turning to look out at the sun setting behind the ocean. The date lasted until the food and drinks ran out and the sun fully set. A lot of laughter filled the night and a lot of talking did as well. All too soon you both were cleaning up and getting back in the front and then he was driving you home. 

“I had an amazing night tonight.” You said as he pulled into your driveway and he parked. He turned to you and smiled.

“I had an amazing night too. Hopefully we can continue this.” Bradley said and you smiled and nodded.

“I would love that.” You said and you both were getting out of the Bronco and he grabbed the basket and headed to the house. When you got there you unlocked the front door and turned to him and he leaned down and kissed you and of course you kissed back. His mustache tickled you but it wasn’t uncomfortable when you broke apart. “Good night, Bradley.” You said and he smiled as you took the basket from him.

“Good night, Y/N.” He said and you smiled and turned to open the door and walked in and closed it. He waited until you were in and the door was locked before walking to his Bronco. He got in as his phone dinged. 

Had a great time tonight. Can’t wait to do it again.

Bradley Bradshaw: Name the place and time. 

Yup he was truly a keeper. You couldn’t wait for more dates and adventures with him.

1 month later (4 weeks)

You and Bradley had been dating for a month now and that time had been amazing and he was amazing. You and he had been non-stop talking and you both had been on multiple dates. You both had spent nights with each other but it only consisted of cuddles. Tonight, you both were at his place for date night, he brought up in a simple text one Friday afternoon. He offered to cook you your favorite meal which happened to be steak fettuccine alfredo with garlic bread, it turned out to be his favorite since childhood. You had agreed for you to be over at his place at 6 PM right as soon as you got off from work for the weekend.

6 PM on the dot and you were knocking on the door of his apartment and he was opening the door and the smell of food hit you and your stomach growled. “Someone sounds hungry.” He joked and you grinned bashfully.

“Starving. I didn’t get time to eat lunch today.” You admitted

“Baby, you can’t be doing that yourself.” He said as he started to usher you in and taking your jacket off and taking your purse and putting them away. 

“I didn’t mean to, it just happened. We just got really busy.” You said as he made you sit down on a chair that he pulled out for you.

“Well, it is a good thing that food is ready.” He said as he plated up a plate for you and put garlic bread on the side for you. He brought it over to you and set it down in front of you and then went to the fridge and got your favorite wine cooler and opened it for you and set it down in front of you. The smell of the food hit your nose and your stomach growled once again.

“This smells delicious.” You said as he sat down with his food and choice of drink.

“Eat up. Can’t let my Baby starve to death.” He said and your stomach filled with butterflies as you took your first fork full of the delicious food. He watched you as you took a bite and your eyes closed. You practically moaned at the taste and smiled and took a bite. “How is it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Delicious.” You said and as you opened your eyes to look at him “You can cook this anytime.” You said and he smiled.

“I plan on it. It’s actually my mom’s recipe and she said it was one of my dad’s favorites.” He said and you smiled at him. You and he had talked about Carole and Goose and from the stories you could tell that they loved each other and they were good people. You had lost your parents at an early age and were raised by your uncle. As the both of you ate supper you both talked about anything that came to your mind and after several plates and your stomachs were full you both moved to the couch leaving the dishes for later. Dessert would be had later both of you being too full of the delicious meal he had cooked up. Work had worn you out that you were close to falling asleep, he had put on the show you both were currently watching together. He had turned you both to where you both were laying down on the couch. “Stay the night?” He asked and you turned to look up at him.

“You want me to?” You answered his question with a question.

“Only if you want to.” He said 

“I would love to.” You said he smiled and kissed you and you kissed back and then you turned to continue watching the show. It was harder and harder to keep your eyes open and you closed them. Bradley felt your body relax further and he cuddled you more. 

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear thinking that you were asleep but you weren’t. You turned in his arms and leaned up and kissed him and he kissed you back. Once air was needed you broke apart and looked at each other.

“I love you too.” You said smiling and he smiled back. This was the first time you both said that you loved each other. You both just stared at each other and then you both were leaning in and kissing each other feverishly. You both sat up and then he picked you up and headed off to the bedroom he gently laid you down and climbed on top of you gently. He kissed you and then he started to your jaw and started to nip you gently and it brought an ache between your legs that needed attention. He kissed and nipped his way down to your neck where you turned your head to give him better access, his mustache tickled you but it wasn’t uncomfortable it just added fuel to the fire. You let out a low moan that you couldn't help and you felt him smirk on your heated skin that was just getting hotter by the second. Bradley came up and you turned your head and looked at him. His eyes held something in them almost like asking if he could continue and you nodded. He slowly took off your shirt and you helped him and now you were in your bra and pants. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He said 

“Keep going.” You said and he nodded and continued. He slowly undressed you until you were fully naked in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said and you blushed as he ran his hands up and down your sides. You made a move to the bottom of his t-shirt and he got the hint and took it off and added it to the pile of your clothes. You couldn’t help but stare and look him up and down, the Navy sure did him good. “You like what you see?” He asked.

“I do but I want to see what you have under those pants.” You said somehow finding the boldness and you could tell he loved that because he started to shed his pants and then his underwear. His cock sprang up and slapped his rock-hard abs. You only became wetter looking at him, he had the full package and you couldn’t believe it was all yours. “Fuck I definitely like what I see.” You said and smirked and then he smirked.

“I like what I see too.” He said looking you up and down. He then suddenly attacked your lips and licked your bottom lip and you parted your lips and your tongues fought for dominance he caressed your body. He brought one hand to the one place you needed him; he ran his hand through your folds and you moaned into his mouth he kept going until he pushed two thick digits into you and a wonderful stretch was welcomed. Bradley fingered fucked you as you both French kissed each other. He was getting you close to coming and he could tell and then he was pulling out of you and he broke the kiss. You were about to say something but he slid into you in one swift motion. 

“Fuck that feels good.” You moaned as he fully bottomed out of you. You were no virgin but it had been awhile since you had sex and each time you were never left satisfied but Bradley was satisfying you and it was only the beginning. 

“Talk about feeling good? You’re gripping me like you were made for me.” He moaned and you looked up into his honey brown eyes that his pupils had pretty much taken over. “You ok if I start moving?” He asked.

“Fuck yes.” You said and smirked and started to thrust his hips into yours and it brought you to seeing stars. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so big. You’re perfect.” You moaned as your hands went to his shoulder blades and gripped, fingernails leaving indents in his skin. He continued to thrust in and out of you making you feel good and in turn you squeezed him and made him moan.

“Keep doing that and I won’t last long.” He said 

“Fucking shit. You’re hitting all the right spots.” You moaned “Go faster.” You said but it sounded more like a demand and he was willing to fill that demand. He started to thrust faster and you started to get closer to that orgasm that was rapidly building. Moans and pants from both of you were filling the room and sweat started to break out on both of your bodies. 

“Fuck, I’m close.” He moaned and that dam was about to break.

“Me too.” You moaned and then he was attacking your lips again and then was kissing and nipping at your jaw again. His mustache scratching you just added to the pleasure and you loved it. You could feel him start to get sloppy and knew he was getting closer. 

“Cum with me.” He said almost demanded as his hand came down to your clit and started to give it attention and in turn it was bringing you closer. It wasn’t long after he nipped your neck and tugged on your clit you were squeezing him and coming on his cock and then he was stilling inside of you and painting your walls white. You both started to come down from your high as he pulled out of you and fell to the side of you. Both of you were sweaty and panting but you both didn’t care as you laid beside each other fucked out in bliss. 

“I love you.” You said and looked over at him and he looked over at you.

“I love you too.” He said and you smiled and kissed him and he kissed you back. He turned down the covers and the two of you crawled under them. He brought you into his chest and cuddled you. You yawned and he chuckled. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.” He said and you nodded and slowly closed your eyes and snuggled your head into his chest and fell asleep and once he saw your breath even out and he knew you were truly asleep he allowed himself to fall asleep.  

You knew you had found the one and you had to thank a drunk asshole for that. If he hadn’t tried so hard to get you to go home with him then you wouldn’t have met your amazing boyfriend that had faked being your boyfriend at the beginning. You both loved each other and that is all that mattered. 

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[ingeniousmindoftune]

Trap King’s Mistress

Synopsis: In the heart of Atlanta, two drug empires clash for dominance. Southside’s trap king Kash Rivers rules with strategy and silence, while Trap Mitchell of the Northside fuels his kingdom with fire and fear. Their feud is legendary—dead bodies, double-crosses, and broken alliances. But none of that compares to the betrayal brewing in secret. Zyra Mitchell, Trap’s wife, has everything money can buy—except freedom. When she crosses paths with Kash at a charity gala, sparks ignite. What begins as flirtation turns into a full-blown secret affair. Kash knows better, but Zyra feels like a habit he can’t kick. She’s not just beautiful—she’s bold, and Kash sees the pain behind her perfect smile. But secrets don’t stay buried in the streets. As Kash and Zyra get deeper into each other, old enemies close in. Trap grows suspicious, and the walls begin to close. When Zyra falls pregnant, questions arise. Whose baby is it? And what happens if Trap finds out? Lines get blurred. Loyalty is tested. Blood will spill. In a world where love is war and power is everything, one woman holds the fate of two empires between her thighs—and only one man will come out alive.

CHAPTER ONE

Two years earlier, leading up to Prologue.

The crystal teardrops of the chandeliers trembled overhead, scattering a honeyed glow across the obsidian glass table. Polished Carrara marble veins ran beneath their feet; heavy velvet drapes pooled at the walls, embroidered in gold thread that caught stray flickers of light. Even the chairs—upholstered in cream silk and accented with gilded scrollwork—couldn’t warm the hush that lay between them.

Zyra Mitchell sat ramrod-straight, her off-the-shoulder ivory gown hugging every curve like spun sugar. The fabric gleamed where it caught the light, clinging to her ribs and hips as though tailor-made for sin. Her cheeks were sculpted, lips lacquered the color of ripe pomegranates, and soft waves of chestnut hair framed her shoulders. Only her eyes betrayed her: the cool blue of winter lakes, hardening by the moment.

Across the table, Trap Mitchell lounged in a perfectly cut black tuxedo, the satin lapels still—so far—untainted by a crease. His phone lay open in one hand; his thumb flicked through messages as if the woman seated before him didn’t exist.

Zyra cleared her throat, the sharp sound cracking the silence like a whip. “This the part where you ask me how my day was?”

He didn’t glance up. Instead, he slid a thumb against the screen. “If I wanted small talk, I’d go to church.”

She leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, the slit of her gown revealing a flash of thigh. “You ever gonna stop punishing me for being smarter than you thought?”

His thumb froze, mid-scroll. He didn’t look up, but she felt the shift in the air.

“You was smart the day I met you,” he said flatly, voice low enough to stir the velvet drapes. “But lately? You gettin’ bold.”

“Maybe bold is what it takes to be heard in a room where a man only talks to his money and his enemies.” She tipped her wine glass, watching the ruby liquid slosh against the crystal rim.

Trap finally raised his head. His dark eyes met hers with the chill of a winter dawn. “Watch your mouth, Zyra. You start sounding too much like a threat.”

A slow smile curved her lips, crimson against ivory. “No, baby. I sound like a wife.”

He gave a dry, humorless laugh that rattled in the hollow room. “Wife. Right. That’s why you’re always running off to charity boards and art exhibits—pretending you care about anything outside this house?”

Zyra’s palm closed around the stem of her glass, knuckles whitening. “Maybe I just like being seen. Ever think about that?”

He pushed back from the table, the polished soles of his shoes clicking on marble. At six-foot-two, he loomed over her, shoulders broad as the city that raised him. He planted his fists on the tabletop, leaning in so the candlelight carved hard shadows across his jaw.

“You are seen,” he said, voice a low rumble. “I keep you in designer. Keep your mama’s house paid off. Keep these vultures off your back.” He stepped so close she could feel the heat radiating from his coat. “Don’t mistake luxury for freedom.”

Her breath hitched. She set the glass down, the tap of crystal on wood echoing like a gunshot. “And don’t mistake obedience for love.”

They held each other’s gaze, the air humming with things left unsaid. Then Trap straightened, spun on his heel, and stalked out. The click of the door behind him cracked through the quiet—louder than any curse.

Zyra stayed perfectly still as a draft rolled in, stirring the candles and sending tendrils of cold across her bare shoulders. Plates of untouched caviar and quenelles lay before her like offerings she had no appetite for. She lifted the wine again, tilted it to her lips—and let it burn on the way down. Her hand shook, but it wasn’t fear. It was fury.

She traced a fingertip along the gilded edge of the table, the gold cold beneath her skin. This room—this palace—was her cage.

Her stomach knotted. Not because she needed dinner. Not for diamonds or a title. She was hungry for choice, for color, for someone who saw her as a woman, not a trophy.

Somewhere in Atlanta, a man she’d never met was watching her. Didn’t know her voice or memorize the curve of her collarbone. Yet he felt like promise—a wildfire waiting to scorch her world and set her free.

One day soon, he’d come for her.

[gokesterthejokester]

Wuthering Heights (1939)

Director: William Wyler

Cinematographer: Gregg Toland

Tech Specs: — Aspect Ratio: 1.37 1 — Cameras: Mitchell BNC — Negative Format: 35 mm — Cinematographic Process: Spherical

The look of Wuthering Heights is defined by bold contrasts and painterly shadow work, emphasizing emotional and psychological tone over realism. The film favors stark shadow, creating extreme chiaroscuro. The result is shots often dominated by areas of near-total darkness balanced by pools of focused illumination. This isn't subtle lighting — it’s theatrical, expressive, sometimes even claustrophobic in its intensity.

Several scenes are lit primarily by candle or lamplight, especially interiors. The effect is both intimate and severe. The film is also known for its use of deep focus, where everything in the shot — from foreground to background — remains sharp. In one shot, the entire room, from the back wall to the foreground table, holds its clarity. This allows the mise-en-scène to function almost like a stage, giving psychological weight to blocking and spatial relationships.

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

The Bolter

Jake Seresin x reader

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘The Bolter’

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: abuse; alcoholism; death; overall bad childhood; abandonment issues; allusions to smut; swearing; toxicity; FLUFF

.

.

I have been running for as long as I can remember. When I was 10, I ran away from home to the comfort of my grandparents. My Daddy always drank too much, but that night he started swinging on Momma. Memaw and Pawpaw begged her to leave. You both could live with them. Momma refused. Not long after that, Momma and Daddy were gone. A few years later, Pawpaw passed away. Memaw followed quickly and I am convinced she died of a broken heart. I ran to my brother after that, the only family I had left. Then I joined the Navy on the morning of my 18th birthday. Shipped out a month later. My brother teared up when he dropped me off. He told me that I run like life is a race. I told him every time I leave, I feel like I can breathe again. He hugged me and told me to visit soon. That was 10 years ago.

.

.

Military life turned out to be perfect for me. Never in one place for long. Constantly being sent around the world on a moments notice. I got my degree. Graduated flight schools. Had my first deployment. Then graduated TOPGUN. I send Robbie emails and letters when I can. He’s married now, moved far away from our little Texas hometown. I recently got stationed in Coronado with a good friend of mine, Phoenix. She walks with me to the hanger, “So, any updates on the old love life?” I roll my eyes, “Haven’t been looking. Too busy moving in.” Her laugh rings through the ocean air, “Moving in what? All two of your boxes?” I throw my bag on the floor of the locker room, “Be quiet. First day celebratory beers after work?” She smirks, “Of course. I bet Penny has missed us.” We zip up our flight suits and find the conference room.

.

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Captain Mitchell is standing in front of the group, smiling at us when we walk in. “Hey ladies! Find a seat.” I glance around, only recognizing a couple aviators. Rooster and I had a deployment together. Bob Floyd was part of my TOPGUN class. They smile at me and Maverick clears his throat, “Okay everyone welcome our new squad mates, Phoenix and Bolter. Both TOPGUN grads with impressive records. Ladies, we are happy to have you here.” There’s some applause and Rooster whistles, making me chuckle. My eyes scan the squad, meeting the green eyes of a very attractive man. He winks at me, so I wink right back. I’ve been called a lot of things in my day, but shy has never been one of them. Phoenix elbows me, “That’s Hangman. He’s worse than you.” A smirk spreads across my face, “We’ll see about that.”

.

.

Rooster motions for me to join the group as I hop out of my jet. I take off my helmet and unzip the top of my suit, this California heat is getting to me. He throws an arm around me, “Everyone hit the showers and regroup at the Hard Deck. Let’s welcome these ladies back to Coronado the right way.” They all nod in agreement. The blonde one, Hangman, looks between Rooster and I. He raises an eyebrow, “So Bradshaw, is this your girl?” Rooster laughs, “No, Hangman. Bolter here is a friend of mine. We deployed together a few years back.” Hangman nods, “Good to know.” He turns on his heel and heads to the locker room. I watch as he walks away, drinking up his tall and toned figure. Rooster sighs, “This won’t be good.”

.

.

The Hard Deck is packed like it always is on Fridays. I grab beers for me and Phe, heading over to the pool table. Hangman walks up with a cocktail smile, “So, Bolter… where’d that name come from?” Phe and Rooster giggle. I take a swig of my beer, “I’m assuming Hangman has to do with how you fly, right?” He nods and I shrug, “Mine is more about my home life. I’m a runner.” Hangman’s eyes narrow, as if he’s trying to decide if I’m joking. Rooster smacks my back, “You should’ve seen this one on our last deployment. She’d give you a run for your money, Seresin.” His brow furrows, “I highly doubt that.” Phe chuckles, “She’s got a pretty face, southern charm… but she’ll break a man’s heart and run away every single time. The Bolter.” I take a long sip and shrug, “Guilty as charged.” Phoenix and Rooster return to their game of pool with Bob and Coyote, but Hangman stays behind. His southern accent comes out a little bit more with each drink. He leans in, “Where are you from, darling?” I try to ignore the fact that the pet name has my heart beating faster, “East Texas. You?” “Austin.” I roll my eyes, “Dear Lord, don’t tell me you’re a Longhorn.” He throws his horns up and I pretended to gag. Hangman raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess… East Texas… Red Raider?” I put my guns up and he laughs, “Well darling, I’ll forgive you. We’ll have you in burnt orange in no time.” He playfully pats my back and I focus on anything but him touching me. The night continues for a couple more hours and then I wrap Rooster in a hug, “I’m gonna head out.” Phe kisses my cheek, “Need a ride?” I shake my head, “Don’t head home on my account. I’ll order an uber.” Hangman pulls his keys out of his pocket, “I need to head out anyway, let me drop you off?” I playfully loop my arm in his, “Why not, Cowboy.” Rooster and Phoenix shake their heads and laugh.

.

.

Hangman starts up his truck and I chuckle. He looks over at me, “What’s so funny?” I motion to the truck, “You can take the boy out of Texas…” “Well what do you drive?” A smirk spreads over my face, “A truck.” We laugh and I type my address into his phone. He leaves the windows down. The smell of the ocean surrounds us and it almost drowns out the smell of his cologne. He turns down the radio, “Do I get to know your real name?” I tap my chin, “Hmmm… only if you tell me yours.” His green eyes sparkle, “My name’s Jake. Jake Seresin.” “I’m Y/n.” He looks at me for a moment. Not a passing glance. He looks at me and he sees me. His southern drawl is thick, “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Then I do something that I never do, a blush spreads across my cheeks. It’s so foreign to me that I have no idea what to do. I turn towards the window, hoping the wind helps the red fade. Jake definitely notices but just smirks. He pulls into the parking lot of my apartment complex and turns off the engine. I look at him and he puts his hands up, “I’m just walking you to the door.” I chuckle and think about my past romantic encounters, chivalry isn’t very common nowadays. Jake walks around the truck and opens my door, following me up the steps. I stop in front of my door, “This is me.” He flashes one of his bright white smiles, “I had a good time with you tonight, Y/n.” My gaze falls to my feet, “Me too, Jake.” He runs his hand through his golden locks, “I’ll see you at work?” I nod as he turns to walk away. Maybe I was a little disappointed. He’s one of the hottest men I have ever seen and he didn’t hint for an invite to join me for another drink. Maybe he’s a trophy hunter, likes the buildup and the chase. My brain flickers back to the moment a blush colored my cheeks. The way my heart was beating out of my chest when he called me darling. I’m not a romantic, probably the furthest from it, so this is beyond confusing for me. Jake looks back at me, probably wondering why I haven’t opened my door and retreated into my apartment. “You okay, darling?” There goes my heart again. I close the distance between us and get on my tiptoes so our noses touch. “I’m not used to southern gentleman. You’re acting a little too honorable right now.” A darkness falls over his green eyes as his lips crash into mine. It’s messy. It’s needy. It takes my breath away. He pulls back and smirks, “Goodnight, darling.”

[justabigassnerd]

Patience Worn Thin

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word Count - 2,300

Warnings - harassment, violence, injuries, alcohol, drinking, angst, fluff

Summary - after seeing someone bother Bradley one too many times, you take matters into your own hands

A/N - hey y'all I'm back with another anon request and I hope I did it justice! I am the most unconfrontational person on the planet so this was a little out of my depth but it's always good to try new things. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

“Hey babe, me and the Daggers are heading to the Hard Deck for a couple of drinks. Want to come?” Bradley says in his usual soft tone as he sweeps you up into a hug, holding you close as if he hadn’t seen you in years when in reality he had simply gone upstairs for a few minutes and just returned downstairs.

“If they’re okay with me tagging along.” You say, curling your arms around Bradley and resting your head just above his heart and listening to the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.

“They’re always okay with you coming. If they weren’t, they’d have to deal with me and Mav.” Bradley says, his soft chuckle rumbling against your ear before you lift your head off his chest, laughing to yourself as you visualise your boyfriend and your dad teaming up against all the Daggers. While you were Maverick’s daughter, you weren’t an aviator, instead, you had opted to work in nursing and found yourself working in a hospital local to where your dad and boyfriend worked.

“Guess we’re going to the Hard Deck then.” You say with a soft smile as you look up at Bradley as he looks down at you, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. When you both pull away, Bradley’s phone buzzes and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling it from his pocket and inspecting the text displayed.

“We better get a move on. Apparently, I owe Jake a darts match and I fear that if I don’t show up soon my callsign might change from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Chicken’.” Bradley says with a laugh as you move out of his embrace, laughing as you imagine him being called ‘Chicken’ day in and day out at work.

“Let’s get you down to the Hard Deck then. Can’t have my boyfriend being seen as someone afraid of a darts match against Jake of all people.” You say, patting Bradley’s chest before moving past him to get yourself ready to head to the bar.

When you are ready, you head out of the house with Bradley and get into the passenger seat of his Bronco, smiling as Bradley instinctively rests his free hand on your thigh as he drives, singing along to the radio under his breath as he goes. Eventually, he parks outside the Hard Deck and the two of you get out and head into the bar together.

“Want me to grab you a drink? I’ll be designated driver if you want?” You say, turning to face Bradley almost the moment the two of you entered the bar.

“Are you sure?” Bradley asks, soft enough for the moment to be just between the two of you but loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar.

“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with me driving the Bronco of course.” You say with a small smile as Bradley rests a hand on your waist, the other digging in his pocket and holding the Bronco keys between the two of you.

“There’s no one else I’d trust to drive her.” He says, grinning as you take the keys before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

“Bradshaw! Get your ass over here!” You pull away with a giggle at Jake’s voice ringing clearly over the noise of the busy bar and Bradley rolls his eyes.

“He really knows how to pick a time, huh?” Bradley mutters, winding an arm around your waist and guiding you over to the Dagger's usual spot near the pool tables and dart board.

“Hey, you brought y/n!” Jake greets you enthusiastically as the two of you approach, instantly approaching you, arms outstretched for a hug that you’re more than happy to give him, pulling away and greeting the other Daggers with hugs before returning to Bradley’s side.

“Okay, I’m going to grab you a drink now. Beer?” You say to Bradley as he nods.

“That would be great, thank you.” Bradley says gratefully, kissing the top of your head before letting you cross the bar to talk to Penny.

“y/n! How lovely to see you.” Penny greets you happily, smiling as she leans up against the bar to talk to you.

“It’s good to see you too, Penny.” You say, smiling at Penny.

“Beers for you and Bradley?” Penny asks, instinctively reaching down to the fridge that contains the beers you and Bradley like to drink.

“Just one for Bradley. I’ll take a soda.” You say, pulling out your card and handing it to Penny to start a tab just in case you and Bradley wanted more drinks throughout the evening. Penny soon hands you your two drinks and you thank her with a smile before turning and heading back over to Bradley who was standing with Jake near the dart board.

“Here you go.” You say, holding Bradley’s beer out towards him as he takes it gratefully, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips in thanks.

“Get a room you two.” Jake grumbles, plucking the darts from the board and handing some of them to Bradley.

“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend. Then me and Bradley will be saying it to you.” You say with a laugh as Jake rolls his eyes. You then make your way over to Natasha and Bob, sitting with them and making conversation with them as Bradley and Jake play their darts match.

An hour or so later, after Jake and Bradley are finally done with their final match, you get up, excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave the group to their own devices for a few minutes. However, when you return, you can’t say you were impressed with the scene before you.

When you leave the bathroom, shaking the remnants of water off your hands, you see a woman almost draping herself over Bradley who doesn’t look entirely comfortable with her proximity. You could tell he was saying something to her, but you didn’t know what it was. You soon crossed the bar and sidled up alongside Bradley, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Hey babe. Who’s your friend?” You ask innocently, turning to look at the woman who had at least had the decency to take a step back.

“I’m Mia.” She says, barely giving Bradley a chance to respond, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well, nice to meet you, Mia. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my boyfriend. It's our first time seeing each other in months. You can understand that, right?” The lie comes quickly and easily to you. You weren’t the biggest fan of sounding possessive over Bradley but after seeing how uncomfortable he had looked you didn’t want this person ever coming near him again. With a huff, Mia rolled her eyes and stalked off. The moment she was out of sight you turned to Bradley.

“I didn’t mean to speak for you. I could tell you weren’t comfortable.” You apologise quickly, stopping only when Bradley kisses you, words catching in your throat.

“Don’t apologise.” Bradley whispers after pulling away enough to speak, lips brushing against yours with every word spoken. You nod your head slightly at his words before pulling away, determined to spend the rest of the evening with your friends and forget about the incident that had happened as you hoped it was a one-time event.

Oh how wrong you were.

Bradley had gone to the Hard Deck a couple of times while you stayed home or had work and each time had come back complaining that Mia had been there and had been completely disregarding his obvious boundaries and ignoring that he had a girlfriend, having been convinced it was a ploy to keep her away, he had told you. Bradley had told you that all of the Daggers had tried to help him keep her away, but she was a lot more persistent than they expected. All you did at the moment was hug Bradley tight, feeling awful that he was going through that without you to help him before you spoke up.

“Next time you go to the Hard Deck, I’m coming with you.”

True to your word, the next time Bradley and the Daggers organised a time to go to the Hard Deck, you made sure you were free to accompany Bradley. The two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, walking in hand in hand as your eyes immediately scoured the bar looking for Mia, letting out a small, satisfied sigh when you couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gotten the hint after all, so you allowed yourself to relax as you crossed to the Daggers, greeting them all with a smile.

The evening progressed pleasantly, everyone laughing, playing pool, or gossiping about the new Top Gun recruits. Then the all-familiar bell rang signalling that someone would be paying for a round for everyone in the bar.

“I’m going to grab us all a drink.” You say, instantly excusing yourself to grab a drink for yourself and all your friends.

When you returned to the group, Mia was there. She had apparently escaped your skimmed searches of the bar and snuck in the moment you moved away from Bradley. You approached the table Mickey and Javy were sitting at and placed the tray down, immediately turning around and approaching her.

“Excuse me, I was very polite the first time that we met but I don’t appreciate that you keep trying to force yourself on my boyfriend and make him uncomfortable. Please leave him alone.” You say, firmness sneaking into your voice as you position yourself next to Bradley, noticing how all the Daggers immediately have their attention on you, ready to step in if needed.

“You’re clearly lying to yourself if you think that he could ever be your boyfriend. He’s way out of your league and much better suited to be dating someone like me. Besides it’s not like he was saying no.” Mia says with a snarky tone as she folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she looks you up and down.

“He wasn’t saying anything! Isn’t that enough of a hint for you?!” You cry out, growing more enraged when Mia just shrugs.

“I can tell when men like what I’m doing. Besides, men never say no. I know it can be hard to accept but sometimes men prefer people like me over people like you.” Mia’s chosen words enraged you so much that you did something you never thought you’d be capable of doing.

You punched her.

You would’ve regretted it had Mia not attacked you back. She practically pushed you to the floor and you were quick to drag her down with you, pinning her to the floor and just giving her hell. You couldn’t even recall what you were doing, you were just so blinded by your rage and this woman’s audacity. You kept throwing punches and slaps, as did Mia, a fair few coming into contact with you until you felt two muscular arms wrap around your middle and drag you off Mia and the moment you were clear, you were vaguely aware of Jake and Reuben stepping in between you and Mia as a barrier.

“y/n, honey, you need to calm down.” Bradley’s soothing, gentle voice whispers in your ear as he hauls you away from the chaos and holds you carefully in place, his eyes shining with worry as Natasha appears alongside him while Bob rushes to fill Penny in on what happened. Bradley guides you to the bar, sitting you on one of the stools while Natasha follows Penny to get you an ice pack. The second Natasha returns, Bradley takes the ice pack and holds it near your eye where he could tell a bruise was already beginning to form. You could hear Penny calling for Mia to be escorted out and given a ban from the Hard Deck and all you could think about was how grateful you were that she wouldn’t be around to bother Bradley anymore.

“I appreciate you defending me, y/n but you didn’t need to do this. You’re hurt.” Bradley mutters, eyes scanning you for any more injuries while he holds the ice pack in place.

“I couldn’t let her treat you like that. I just snapped.” You admit, looking up and making eye contact with the man you love.

“It happens to the best of us. I bet Mav’s done something like that before, it’ll be where you got that from.” Bradley says, smiling lightly as he changes the subject to bring a smile to your face which he was successful in doing.

“There’s no way dad hasn’t punched someone in the defence of someone he loves.” You giggle, wincing lightly when Bradley applies a little bit more pressure accidentally to the tender area, which of course makes him apologise instantly.

“I have to admit. It was really attractive seeing you defend me like that.” Bradley muses, moving the ice pack away from your eye and setting it on the countertop.

“Really?” You ask, feeling your face heat up at his words.

“Really. No one’s ever defended me like that before. It just means a lot more because it’s you.” Bradley says softly, cupping your face softly and leaning in until his lips meet yours, the kiss alone conveying everything Bradley needed to say. You both pull away when you hear the Daggers calling for both you and Bradley and you laugh as you glance from them to Bradley who lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.

“I think we should head over so you can talk to your fans, huh?”

[mysterious-adventurer]

Tequila (Baby I Still See Ya) - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

A/N: I actually wrote this piece a few years ago, right around the height of Top Gun Summer. So, you might notice it's a little bit different than my other writing. At the time, I wrote it just for me and I never though I'd actually publish it, but here we are (if you like this you have @ij-brian-quinn-enthusiast to thank for convincing me to publish it). That being said, even after edits it's not the most inclusive piece in the world, and for that I apologize. Other writing posted on my blog in the future will be much more inclusive. This piece was actually loosely inspired by @sunlightmurdock's oneshot For Old Times' Sake so make sure to check that out!

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Mitchell! Reader. Bradley and Y/N Mitchell share a romantic moment over a bottle of tequila at her mom's wedding but lose touch after Maverick pulls Bradley's application to the naval academy. Years later, after a chance encounter Rooster tells Phoenix all about it. Loosely based on the song Tequila by Dan + Shay.

Word Count: 4.5K

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol is a central theme in this piece and will be mentioned throughout, including an underage drinking scene. Lots of teenage awkwardness. Bare minimum use of y/n.

            'Clack!' The sound of pool balls colliding resonated throughout The Hard Deck as Rooster watched Phoenix take a shot in a game against Hangman. It was a quiet evening, the bar was almost empty, but then again it was only six o'clock. Maybe it was the heat, or the persistent blowing of the Santa Ana Winds, but something seemed to make the quiet evening stretch on and on with no ending in sight. The group of aviators had finally resorted to heading to the bar much earlier than usual just to try and kill the time. Much to their disappointment, other than the regular old timers who liked to sit around telling stories about Vietnam or Korea or, they were the only ones there. They had claimed a pool table in the corner and Hangman had wasted no time challenging Phoenix to game with fifty dollars on the line. 

        Phoenix smiled triumphantly as she lined up her next shot and on the other side of the table Hangman was frowning. His brows furrowed in concentration, silently begging for Phoenix to miss. 'Clack!' The sound reverberates through the bar again, louder this time, followed by the 'thump' as the 8-ball sinks into its pocket. 

        "Damn it!" Hangman reaches to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket

        "That's right Bagman, fork it over" Phoenix howls, drinking in her victory. 

        "Rooster" Penny puts a hand on his shoulder, her sudden presence causing both him and Bob to nearly jump out of their skin. She has a mischievous smile on her face and a shot of something golden in her hand. "The lady sends her regards-" Penny nods across the bar "and tequila." She presses the shot into Rooster's hand before returning to her post behind the bar. The entire group pauses to look over at the bar where she is sitting at the counter, her (y/h/l) hair falling in messy waves around her face as she shoots a brilliant smile at Rooster. He's still processing her presence when she raises her own shot of tequila in a silent toast, knocking it back and shooting him a wink. Just as he's about to return the gesture, a tall curly haired blonde, in a white t-shirt and leather jacket, saunters up to the bar and puts his arm around her. Then just as suddenly as she seemed to appear, she's leaving with the other guy. The aviators stare across the room quizzically for a few moments before their attention seems to wane. 

        "Alright Trace, double or nothing?" Hangman proposes. 

        "At least try to hang onto your cash Seresin, find someone a little more on your skill level."

        Phoenix abandons her pool cue at the table and saunters over to trade spots with Bob, as he claims her abandoned cue and she takes his seat beside Rooster. He looks pale, like he's seen a ghost, and he's still gripping the slowly warming shot of tequila in his hand. 

        "You going to drink that, or am I?"

        Rooster brings the shot to his lips, throws his head back, and then slams the empty glass down on the table. 

        "All right then." Phoenix notes how quiet he's being, knowing he'd normally have a smart ass remark for her. "So, who was that? And don't just say someone that you used to know, I need details."

        "Maverick's daughter."

        "I didn't know Mav had a kid."

        "Yeah, (y/n) Blackwell, her mom was a civilian Top Gun instructor, when my dad and Maverick were students, they started seeing each other then, but things didn't last very long between them after he graduated"

        "You'd think he'd mention her every once in a while."

        "He used to not shut up about her, she would come out and stay with him over the summers, but it felt like she was there all the time the way he talked about her."

        "Ahhh, so there it is" Phoenix nudged him in the ribs "you two grew up together...and I'm guessing there's some history there." 

        "No, not really," Rooster shrugs.

        "First of all, you are a terrible liar Bradshaw" Phoenix gives him a pointed glare "second of all I need details, because that girl has you looking like you've been hit by a Mack Truck and I have never seen any other girl so much as phase you. So, what happened?"

        "There's really not that much to tell. When we were kids, she was like an annoying little sister who was always kind of in the way and getting into trouble. And it wasn't just like we only had to deal with each other during the summer either, my mom was friends with hers and so we saw each other all the time, basically any time school was out. We drove each other crazy; we could hardly stand to be in the same room together for ten minutes." A small smile crosses his face as Rooster shakes his head "Mom always used to say that as much as we fought it was basically guaranteed we'd end up married."

        "I bet that drove you insane," Phoenix smiles

        "I'd get so mad at her; I think now she just did it because she thought it was funny"

        "Ohhhh, she definitely did" Phoenix takes a swig of her beer "anyway, continue."

        "Eventually, I kind of outgrew the childish bickering and basically just started ignoring her to hang out with the adults, and I guess that's around the same time that she developed a massive crush on me. Everyone could tell and I was mortified by it"

        "Let me guess, you were awful and just continued to completely ignore her."

        "Yeah, pretty much."

        "You can be such an ass sometimes."

        "I was a kid!" 

        "Doesn't matter, it's still a dick move."

        "Do you want me to finish this story, or do you want to spend the rest of the night playing pool with Bagman over there?" Rooster gestures back over to the pool table, where Hangman and Bob are still playing. With Bob unfortunately losing. 

        "Fine, fine. I'll shut up, please continue" 

        "All right, where was I, right she had a massive crush on me, and I was ignoring her like my life depended on it. Things stayed pretty much the same, until one summer she came out to California, I guess she was around sixteen and I was around seventeen, and I was just expecting things to be the same as they had been every summer. She shows up and it was like she was a completely different person, she'd gotten taller, thinner, her clothes were different, she had a different boy calling her every night, and she couldn't be bothered to give the time of day"

        "I'm assuming this is the part where you suddenly realized how gorgeous she was and fell head over heels in love with her or whatever?"

        "Something like that I guess" he chuckles

        "Works every time"

        "What are you talking about?"

        "You guys can be so oblivious." Rooster raises an eyebrow at Phoenix "If a girl chases a guy, most of the time she can do anything she wants, she can bring him the moon and he still won't be interested in her. But the second that she starts ignoring him and casually flaunting the fact that other guys are interested boom she's got him."

        "So, you're saying that she did it on purpose" 

        "Yes, and that you totally deserved it" she takes another drink and bumps her knee against Rooster's. He looks down at the ground and chuckles.

        "You're probably right"

        "Probably?" Phoenix shoots him a glare "No, no, no, you and I have established this I am always right." A smug look settles on her face. 

        "Oh really," Rooster raises an eyebrow "what about the time you said you could outdrink Hangman? Because the way I remember it, you passed out and I had to drag your drunk ass home, while Seresin was still going strong." The smug look falls from Phoenix's face, and a scowl replaces it.

        "Shut up and finish the rest of your stupid story" 

        "Well, I spent the rest of the summer kind of watching miserably as she went out with lord knows how many different guys. Mav didn't notice, he was too busy trying to figure out how to scare off all of her dates. I remember he called her mom, Charlie, freaking out over what exactly he was supposed to do."

        "That's hilarious, what did she tell him?"

        "Knowing Charlie, there's absolutely no telling what she said to him, but it must have been something along the lines of 'now you know how every man with a daughter in a 100-mile radius of you has felt'." 

        "Definitely how Penny's dad must have felt." The two laugh until they're both doubled over with tears in their eyes, just as they recover, Penny gives them a confused look, and they dissolve into another fit of laughter.

        "Okay," Phoenix, wipes the tears from her eyes, still trying to catch her breath "I still really want to hear how this ends"

        "Okay, okay, so my mom made fun of me that whole summer, she actually called me a lovesick puppy"

        "I can see it"

        Rooster shoots her a glare, before continuing " She and Charlie were pretty close friends. They met when Charlie and Mav were dating and stayed friends after they broke up. I actually remember mom giving Mav hell, when it happened. She told him that he'd just let the love of his life walk out the door. But, I mean, I guess it worked out for the best, at least for Charlie, because she ended up meeting Robert a couple of years later, and then they decided to get married, and Charlie invited mom and I to the wedding." Rooster pauses, staring out one of the bar windows overlooking the beach. 

        "Okay..." Phoenix says gently, noticing the dramatic shift in Rooster's mood "so what happened at the wedding?"

        "It was in mid-April, and I was still waiting to get decision letters, back from the schools I had applied to, of course the only one I really cared about was the one from the Naval Academy, and I didn't want to go to the wedding. Mom made me, so we flew out to Colorado. Robert's family has a really nice mountain chalet out there, so that's where they decided to have the wedding"

        "Were you nervous about going?" Phoenix interrupts. Rooster's eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

        "Why would I be nervous about going to a wedding in Colorado?"

        "Because you were going to see her, and you'd spent the entire summer before pining over her?

        "Oh, yeah" he chuckles "I think I was too busy worrying about acceptance letters to even think about it until we got there"

        "Yeah?"

        "Yeah, but it definitely hit me when I saw her at the ceremony" he smiles "her mom had asked her to be her maid of honor, so she was right up front with the rest of the bridal party for the whole ceremony. She was wearing this pink dress, and her hair was up in some kind of complicated braid crown with flowers in it, and she looked absolutely gorgeous." Phoenix rolls her eyes and mimics gagging. 

        "You had it bad" she teases. 

        "You asked for details; I'm just giving you what you asked for."

        "Fine, fine, so did you decide to make a move or what?"

        "Something like that" Rooster's voice trails back 

The Wedding Reception

                "Y'know, the maid of honor shouldn't be sitting alone in a corner, while everyone else is up dancing" Bradley smiles as he sits down beside y/n. 

        "Yeah, well when there's a forty-year age difference between the maid of honor and the best man, it's more weird if she actually is up there dancing with everyone else" 

        "Well, what about if the maid of honor danced with the son of her dad's lifelong best friend instead"

        "I guess that wouldn't be quite as weird," she cranes her neck looking around the room "if only I knew where he was." Bradley rolls his eyes, before standing and holding his hand out to her. 

        "You're funny Mitchell, real funny." 

        She shrugs as she as she takes his hand "I try." 

        Bradley leads her out onto the dance floor, guiding her hands around his neck, and then placing his own at her waist as they begin to sway to the music the band is playing. 

        "I'm surprised your mom didn't let you bring a date with you," he's trying to be subtle, to ask without asking if she' seeing anyone "or does she not like prom-date Josh?"

        "You have no idea," she snorts. "Anyway, I could've brought anyone I wanted, there just wasn't anyone that seemed right to bring to my mom's wedding"

        "Are you and Robert getting along any better now, or is it still weird?"

        She pauses for a moment, the question catching her off guard. Then she smiles, a small chuckle passing her lips. 

        "What?" Bradley asks 

        "You asked me to dance, then not so subtly asked if I was single, to which I not so subtly told you I was, and now you're asking me about my stepdad?"

        "Yeah, I guess I am" he grins sheepishly, realizing how silly it must seem. 

        "Well, it's not as bad as it was, but it's still a little weird, especially now that he's my stepdad" she glances over Bradley's shoulder to where her mother and stepfather are sitting at the head table, too busy talking to each other to notice her and Bradley together on the dance floor "I guess I just always picture Mom with someone a little more…fun."

        "I didn't realize he was such a stick in the mud."

        "Have you seen this party?" Y/n gestures to corner where the band sits. "They hired a string quartet to play the entire reception, you don't get much more boring than that."

        "When you're right, you're right." A comfortable silence overtakes the couple, and for a few minutes they just sway to the music. A devilish grin crosses Bradley's face as he leads her in turn. "I bet that you and I could make this party a little more interesting."

        "And, how exactly, do you propose we do that Bradshaw?"

        He leans down whispering in her ear "You, Me, and a bottle of tequila, what do you say"

        "I say, how in the world are we gonna do that?" 

        "Well, Robert paid for an open bar, didn't he?"

        "Doesn't change the fact that we're both underage."

        "That's true, but..." he trails off looking in the direction of the bartenders "I bet if the maid of honor made a scene, about something being wrong, that they would be distracted enough that they wouldn't notice me slipping off with a bottle."

        She grins up at them, their height difference, becoming more apparent the closer they get. 

        "Aren't you a troublemaker, are they really going to put up with that at the Naval Academy?"

        "Are you in or not Mitchell?"

        She shoots him a wicked grin as she drops his hands, and saunters away, leaving him alone on the dance floor. He stares for a moment, his mouth falling open in shock as he watches her walk away. He regains his composure as soon as he realizes that she's headed straight for the bar. As she marches right up to the bar tender, he disappears to the edges of the room to work his way around the back of the bar, dodging slightly tipsy wedding guests and his mother. All the while silently praying that whatever distraction she comes up with will keep the bartender distracted long enough for him to slip in and out without being noticed. 

        "The groom specifically requested for there to be a bottle of blue absinthe set aside for him and the bride!" the expression on her face is somewhere between angry and distraught. If he didn't know better Bradley would believe every word coming out of her mouth. 

        "Blue absinthe?" The bartender is looking under the counter and across the room to where Charlie and Robert are sitting frantically "I haven't seen any, I would've had to have it special ordered, no one told me."

        "No one told you?" She turns just slightly as if looking away in frustration "I swear those groom's men are useless" she turns to the side, placing her hand on the bar, and looking up to ceiling in thought. Suddenly she whirls back around. "Well, is there at least any regular absinthe behind the bar?" 

        "No, it's a pretty odd request, we usually don't stock it for weddings" the bartender looks down in defeat. That's when Bradley makes his move, slipping behind the counter and grabbing the full bottle of top shelf tequila he had noticed earlier and slipping back out, before the bartender even looks back up.

        "You know what" she looks over her shoulder, a strand of hair floating out of her braid crown " I don't think it's going to be a problem; they're so caught up in each other that I don't think they'd notice if The Pope walked in" 

        "Are you sure?" the bartender still look on edge

        "Positive, our little secret" she steps away from the bar, and glances around the room looking for Bradley. She walks a few steps in the direction Bradley went. Just as she starts to wonder if he took off to have the prize all to himself, she feels a hand on her wrist pulling her into a quiet, secluded hallway. 

        "I was beginning to think you'd taken off without me" she accuses. He dramatically places a hand on his chest feigning hurt. 

        "You really think I'd do that to you," he stumbles back a few steps "I’m wounded, really wounded" 

        "Stop being such a drama queen." 

        "Says the girl who thought I'd abandoned her, after I'd only been out of her sight for two minutes," he said, a mischievous twinkle filling his eyes. "Besides it's not like you and I could sit out in the middle of the party and drink this," he pauses before his tone changes "our mommies might see us." The two break into fits of laughter, clutching their sides. She slides down the wall to sit on the floor and Bradley follows, a fake plant obscuring them from view of the main ballroom. Bradley opens the bottle with a loud crack and takes a long drink before passing it to her. 

        "So um, from what you said earlier, I'm taking it things didn't exactly work out with prom date Josh?" Bradley asks as she takes a drink from the bottle. 

        "You have no idea," she snorts as she puts the bottle down on the floor between them, "he actually told me that we couldn't hang out after it ended, because he promised some other girl he'd be her date to somebody's after party." 

        "You're kidding" Bradley picks up the bottle again 

        "I wish I was."

        "What an asshole" he passes her the bottle again and she notices a drop of liquor still lingering at the corner of his mouth. 

        "Sometimes I swear you're the only decent guy I know Bradley."

        "Me?"

        "Yeah. You're always trying to look out for me when I'm at Dad's, you invite me out to do things with your friends, you bust me out of the house when Dad and I get into arguments, and you've even rescued me from boredom at my Mom's wedding" she takes another drink out of the bottle "besides, you're just a really nice guy, always complimenting people, always keeping your promises, you try not to be late even though you're always at least a five minutes late to everything and-" suddenly she trails off. "I'm so sorry I'm just rambling like a lunatic"

        "No, no" he reaches over and tucks a strand of hair that's fallen out of her braid behind her ear "I like it." She giggles a little bit, the alcohol already going to her head. 

        "I bet you do, considering I'm sitting here rambling on and on about how great of a guy you are" 

        "It wouldn't mean half as much coming from anyone other than you y/n" he whispers, realizing the alcohol is starting to affect him too as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

        "What?" she looks at him confused, setting the bottle down between them again. 

        "I said, it wouldn't mean half as much coming from anyone other than you" he repeats louder this time. 

        "What's that supposed to-" she's cut off as Bradley places a hand on her cheek and pulls her lips against his. The kiss is gentle, almost hesitant, and he pulls away just breaths later, trying to gauge her reaction.  A few seconds pass in silence, and Bradley's head begins to clear, making him suddenly self-conscious. 

        "I'm sorry I shouldn't have-" he starts

        "Shut up and kiss me again" she cuts him off, pulling him towards her, his lips finding hers again. 

        They stay like that for what feels like hours, tangled up on the floor, kissing each other breathless. Only breaking apart to giggle drunkenly at each other and to pass the bottle of tequila between them. The wedding reception in the ballroom behind them long forgotten as they get lost in each other. 

        "Oh my god, there you are" another one of Charlie's bridesmaids barges into the hallway, causing the two to jump apart. She takes one look at them, noting the lip gloss smeared across Bradley's face and the bottle of tequila between them "you have got to be kidding me." She pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head slightly "If your mother ever finds out, that you were getting drunk and making out with some boy at her wedding she's going to kill both of us."

        "Relax Jackie," she giggles, stumbling as Jackie helps her to her feet "it's not some boy, not like Josh, it's Bradley" 

        "Regardless of who he is, it's time for the big send off and you need to be there," Jackie says as she starts guiding her back towards the main ballroom "and try to act sober." Jackie is practically begging, but it's clear the Maid of Honor isn't paying any attention, as she drags her feet and looks over her shoulder, to where Bradley is now standing against the wall, lip gloss still smeared all over his face. 

        "Bye" she says waving back at him.

        "Bye" he calls in response. The word doesn't hold any finality for either of them, in fact it holds the promise of something that is just beginning. Neither of them having the slightest idea that they won't see each other again for years.

Present Day

        "You made-out with Maverick's daughter, at her mom's wedding?!" Phoenix exclaims looking at Rooster in shock. 

        "Yeah" his voice trails off hesitantly. 

        "So, what happened after that?" Phoenix's eyes are lit up, now even more invested in the story, than when Rooster started telling it. 

        "Nothing" 

        "Nothing? What do you mean nothing"

        "I mean after that, Mav pulled my papers from the academy, so I stopped speaking to him, then my mom passed a few months later, and we didn't see each other again." Rooster tries to keep the tone of his voice even, but Phoenix can tell how difficult it is for him to talk about Maverick's betrayal and his mom's passing. 

        "You've got to be kidding me, you just stopped talking to her, because you were mad at her dad?"

        "I mean, at first yeah. I was so mad at him, I couldn't even think about talking to her but then," he pauses taking a deep breath "after a while, I wanted to talk to her, I just didn't know how to explain why I had just dropped off the face of the Earth for months. What was I even supposed to say?"

        "Uh, I don't know, how about 'hey I'm really sorry I was being a dick and stopped talking to you because I was mad at your dad, I hope you can forgive me'" Phoenix deadpans, giving Rooster a look that reveals just how stupid she thinks he is.

        "Yeah, well I didn't have you back then to coach me through everything" he fiddles with the shot glass he still has clutched in his hand before setting it down on the table. 

        "Do you still have her number" Phoenix asks, grabbing his phone out of the chest pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, and scrolling through his contacts "of course you do, who am I kidding, your phone is like a time capsule of everyone you've ever known." She opens the contact she's been looking for and shoves the phone back into Rooster's hand, "You have to call her."

        "She's with somebody else, or did you not see that blonde guy she left with" Rooster argues. 

        " It’s been literal years since she last saw you and she sent you a shot of tequila, which is a call back to what happened at the wedding, and winked at you, that doesn't exactly scream 'I'm in a happy committed relationship to me.'"

        "Well, her number could've changed, what if I call and it's not her." He's trying to talk himself out of calling, but by the way he's staring at her number on his phone screen, that he wants to.

        "Then you say, 'sorry wrong number' and forget it ever happened, no big deal" Phoenix shrugs. 

        "What if it is her" Rooster finally asks the questions that is really eating at him " what do I say?"

        "Just that it was good to see her and that you'd love to catch up" Phoenix positions herself so that she's making direct eye contact with him "You're not proclaiming your undying love for her Romeo, you're just opening the door to catching up." 

        "Right, just casual" Rooster looks more nervous than Phoenix has ever seen him, shifting in his seat as he stares down at his phone. 

        "Exactly, just call her."

        It's the final push that Rooster needs to hit dial. The phone rings once, twice, three times, Rooster looks over at Phoenix who's watching him intently, four times. Finally it turns over to voicemail. 

        "Hey, sorry I can't get to the phone, leave me a message."

        Rooster's muscles visibly relax when he hears her voice on the other end of the line. The phone lets out a long beeping sound, signaling that it's recording. 

        "Uh, hey it's Bradley. It was really great seeing you this evening, I'm gonna be in town for a while and I'd love to catch up, um call me back when you get the chance." Rooster puts the phone down with a sigh, his heart still racing. 

        "Now what?" Phoenix asks. 

        "Now we wait, I guess." A moment of silence passes between the two friends as they both take in the events of the evening. 

        Their reverie is suddenly interrupted as cheering comes from the pool table where Fanboy is clapping Bob on the back and Hangman is scowling as he hands over his second fifty-dollar bill of the night. 

        "Hey Bagman! I thought I told you to play someone more your speed and hold onto your money" Phoenix calls as she stands and walks back over to the pool table, as Rooster stares at his phone, still lost in the memories of a Colorado wedding and the taste of tequila.

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

A/N: I hope you liked it! I did actually write a sequel to this piece and I'm planning to post in about a month or so. But, if this post reaches 10 reblogs or someone guesses what song I used to write the sequel (Hint: it's a Taylor Swift Song) I'll go ahead and post it early.

[elizaaudreyy]

Dogfight Darling (Pt. One)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!oc Word Count: 630

The Hard Deck was buzzing with its usual Friday night energy - pints clinking, darts flying, music pulsing, and aviators acting like gods who owned the sky and the bar. Jake "Hangman" Seresin stood near the pool table, beer in hand, watching the scene with that confident smirk that had both won and wrecked hearts across the western seaboard.

He wasn't looking for trouble. But then trouble walked in wearing high-waisted demin shorts and a red crop top that made his jaw go a little slack.

Lacey.

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace had just waved her over, grinning when the girl approached the group. She had this kind of easy swagger, like she was used to being around cocky pilots but had no intention of ever being impressed by one. Her wavy hair bounced as she laughed at something Coyote said, and Jake couldn't help but trail his gaze down to-

Shit.

He blinked and looked away, only to sneak another glance when she leaned over to grab a pool cue. Yep. Still there. Still great.

He sipped his beer, tried to focus on something - anything - else, but then she caught him.

"See something you like, Hangman?" Lacey arched a brow, lips twisting into a smirk like she already knew the answer.

Jake tilted his head and grinned. "Just trying to figure out your angle. You gonna hustle us with that pool cue, or are you here to dazzle us with those eyes?"

Smooth. Classic. Safe.

"I dunno, you seem more interested in my angles than my eyes," she teased, cocking her hip just enough to make his brain short-circut.

Phoenix snorted from the other side of the table. "Wow. Jake Seresin at a loss for words. Someone write this down."

Jake gave her a finger behind his back.

Lacey laughed, and Jake loved the sound more than he should have. "I'm just visiting for the weekend," she said, walking around the table to line up a shot. "Thought I'd check out the infamous Hard Deck while I'm in town. Nat said it's full of egos and testosterone. So far, she's right."

Jake raised a brow, biting down on a grin. "Guilty as charged. So, Lacey...you grow up local or just blessed to know Phoenix?"

"Both," she said, sinking a ball with a smooth, practiced shot. "My dad owns a hangar near base."

That made a few heads turn. Jake leaned closer, intrigued. "Your dad a pilot too?"

Lacey glanced over at Nat, who was already biting her lip trying not to laugh. Lacey just shrugged. "You could say that. Most people just call him Mav."

Jake chocked on his drink.

"Maverick?" he coughed, trying not to spit beer. "You're Pete Mitchell's daughter?"

"Mhmm," Lacey hummed, walking around to line up another shot, completely unbothered.'

Jake stared for a beat too long again, and this time Phoenix couldn't hold it in.

"Hey Hangman," Nat drawled with a wicked grin. "Might wanna cool it with the boob-staring. Don't think Mav'd be too thrilled you've been eye-fucking his daughter's tits all night."

Coyote burst out laughing. "Oh my God."

Jake turned red, choked on air this time, and tried to recover. "I was not - I mean, I wasn't - That's not what-"

Lacey stood, cocked a brow again, and smiled like a shark. "Relax, Hangman. You're not the first guy who's tried to flirt with me here. But if my dad asks, you were talking about my - what was it? - 'dazzling eyes.'"

Jake covered his face with one hand. "Jesus Christ."

Nat patted his back. "Don't worry, buddy. You're just lucky she's laughing. Or we'd already be digging your grave behind the bar."

Jake peeked through his fingers, watching Lacey chalk her cue with slow, casual grace.

He grinned despite himself.

Yeah. He was screwed.

[peacefxlmyko]

Family business

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x mom!Reader, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw x wife!Reader, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x platonic!Reader

Ask: "I had an idea for Top Gun, the reader was “Goose”'s wife and Bradley's mother, she is in the Navy and trains the squadron for the mission with Maverick. When Maverick and his son's plane are about to be shot down instead of Jake saving them, she is the one who saves them. Cute ending if possible" by @motherofdragons1998

Tags: Fluff, Angst, obviously Top Gun Maverick spoilers, hints to Hangster 👀, Reader is a widow, Use of Y/N, Reader's callsign is Shadow

Notes: I am SO nervous to post this omfg. This is the first thing I ever wrote based off an ask and I hope I did everything right with it lmao. This is also the longest piece I have ever written. I am not 100% happy with it, but I did my best and I hope ya'll like it! Apologies for any Grammar or in general writing mistakes, English isn't my first language. I am also open for more requests/asks!

Words: 2500+

Story under the cut! ✂️

Getting the call to return to Top Gun after years definitely wasn't something you expected. And finding out that you had to train the best pilots in the world for a suicide mission didn't make your anxiety any better.

After you arrived at the Academy, you were met with Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and Solomon “Warlock” Bates and they introduced you to the Mission.

“Captain Y/N “Shadow” Bradshaw." Cyclone began. “I'm Admiral Beau Simpson and this is Admiral Solomon Bates.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” You replied.

“I hope it's no problem we will be introducing you to the Mission without the other instructor.”

“Other.. instructor, sir?”, your eyes narrowed a little in confusion.

"Yes, you will be teaching the class with another instructor.” Your curiosity was sparked, but you didn't get to ask anything else as they started explaining the Mission.

“The target is an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant built in violation of a multilateral NATO treaty. The uranium produced there represents a direct threat to our allies in the region.” Warlock started to explain.

After the explanation it as your turn to explain your view on the mission. Then, they revealed who the pilots tasked with the mission were. “We've recalled 12 TOPGUN graduates from their squadrons. We want you to narrow-”

As soon as you turned to the monitor your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat. Bradley.

“Is there a problem, Captain?”

“I just.. didn't expect to see my son there, sir.” You muttered, still a bit in disbelief.

“Bradley Bradshaw, aka Rooster. I understand his father was also a pilot? What was his callsign again?”

Ouch. “It was Goose, sir.”

“Tragic what happened.”

Daggers. With every word daggers were being stabbed in your heart. Not one day went by without you missing Nick. Your husband. The father of your son. The love of your life.

After the briefing, you headed to a nearby bar to try and gather your thoughts. As you walked into the bar, you suddenly saw a familiar figure sitting there. No, two. Two familiar faces.

“Pete?”

The man turned around with a stunned look on his face.

“Y/N?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You walked closer to him, a smile forming on my face.

“I could ask you the same.”

“He pissed off another admiral.” Penny commented and you cracked a smile. “It's nice to see you again, Penny” You smiled and sat down next to Pete.

“Don't tell me you're going to-”

“Teach a mission here?” You completed his sentence.

“So you are the other instructor! They wouldn't even tell me!” Mav chuckled at your complaint and shook his head a little.

You heard some noises at the other side of the bar and glanced over at the pool tables. There were pilots gathered and you recognised them as the graduates that had been recalled for the mission.

A few more people joined the bar. It didn't even take you two seconds to recognise your son. Hawaii shirt, sunglasses on his nose, that damn mustache like Nick had. Bradley was the spitting image of his father. You also heard someone call out “Bradshaw! Is that you?”

You didn't want to admit it, but sometimes it hurt a little. The way Nick would have been so proud of him hurt. And knowing that you were the reason his papers were held back because you didn't want him to have the same fate as Goose.

As soon as Pete recognised Bradley he quickly turned away, as if to hide from him. “Mav, you don't have to hi-”

“I cost him years of his career.”

“I know, but that was because I wanted it that way. You did it for me, because of Goose. Don't you think it's time he finds out it was me?”

“No, god no. It'll be fine, just.. let it be.”

You sighed and turned back to your drink, taking a few sips.

“How about ringing me up before the evening rush?” Maverick suddenly said to Penny and stood up. You glanced over at Bradley, watching him with his fellow aviators. Hasn't even noticed his own mother yet. You chuckled a little to yourself.

“It's been declined.”

You snapped out of your thoughts when Penny said that to Pete and laid his credit card on the table in front of him. You curiously watched and tried to hide your amused grin.

“You're kidding.”

Soon enough, Pete was getting carried out by three pilots and you watched, not even hiding your amusement.

Then, you heard a few tones coming from the piano and your heart dropped.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane.”

Rooster was playing and singing “Great balls of fire”. The same song Nick loved performing, a little out of key but it was still always the most perfect thing to you. You stared at him in disbelief, his back turned to you. Other pilots were standing next to him, singing along. The whole Bar was watching him. Your little boy.

After he was finished you watched him perform a little funny dance as the bar kept chanting “Rooster! Rooster!”. God, when did he grow up so much?

You stood up and slowly made your way towards him.

“I assumed you would at least let your Mother know when you're on a new Mission?”

You could see the way his heart dropped and he looked like a toddler being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Mom?” He slowly turned around to you, you had an amused grin on your face.

“This is how I find out you're back at TOPGUN?” You grinned. You could hear his friends letting out laughs and a few comments in the background. “I- uh—”

“Oh, shut up and give your mother a hug.”

________________________________________

The next day, all the pilots sat together in a hanger, ready to be taught about the mission. Admiral Bates was standing in front of them all, ready to explain.

“Your instructors are TOPGUN graduates with real world experience in every mission aspect you'll be expected to master and they are considered some of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick and Captain Y/N Bradshaw, callsign Shadow.”

Maverick and you walked in together, walking up to the lectern where Warlock stood at first. The pilots turned to look at you both and you could see their faces drop as some of them realized they kicked out their instructor last night.

You shot Bradley a quick small smile, meanwhile he gave Maverick a look that could kill.

You both started to talk to the class, Mav doing the most talking. After some briefing, you all got your Jets ready and then took off into the sky for some training and to show what they are able to do.

The next few days were spent preparing and training, trying to get them ready.

But once during some briefing in a classroom, a fight broke out. Hangman had made a comment about Goose and it set Rooster off, almost going for his throat but you all managed to keep them apart. Maverick dismissed them all for the day.

Bradley went back to the base to calm down, Maverick went to meet Iceman and you.. Well, you drove to the Hard Deck and sat down at the Beach there. The whole time you were lost in thoughts. Was he ready for this? Was I ready for this? Was anybody ready for this mission?

“Oh Nick..” You started to tear up. “I don't want to send Bradley out there. He's not ready. No one is! I-I can't risk losing him too! I.. I just can't lose my son too… He's my little boy.. Our little boy.. When did he grow up so much…? I need you here.. god.. I wish you were here..”

Even though he wasn't here anymore, you knew Goose was still watching over you and listening whenever he could.

________________________________________

It felt like the time until the mission flew by. It almost felt like a blur, as if it wasn't real. And burying one of your life-long friends made it even worse. Iceman could finally rest, but it was still incredibly painful. Seeing Maverick grief him made it even worse.

But in a blink of an eye, you were all on a ship in the middle of the Ocean, about to choose which Daggers would fly. You were going to stay back as Backup and Mav was going to fly with them.

You knew he was going to choose him as his wingman, but you secretly begged it wasn't true. You wished it would be Hangman, but it was going to be your son.

“Choose your two Foxtrot teams.” Cyclone said.

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.” You both had decided these teams together, but the Wingman was Mav's own choice.

“And your Wingman?”

After a moment of anticipation, he finally said…

“Rooster.”

There it was. Your son was flying the suicide mission. And all you could do was listen through the comms and pray.

Everyone went on Deck and walked to their Jets. As you stood by your Jet, you looked over at Rooster and noticed him talking to Hangman. You had noticed throughout the whole preparation there seemed to be some tension and.. closeness between them. There was at least something.

You turned back to your Jet, climbing inside in case they needed Backup during the mission.

As the mission began and the teams flew away, your heart was pounding. With every minute you felt your anxiety increasing, scared for the safety of your son and also your friend.

You listened closely through the comms, listening to everything…..

“Bull's-eye! Bull's-eye! Bull's-eye!"

Yes! God, yes! They did it!

But now it was time to get back alive…

The rest of the mission was a pure air fight, raw dogfighting. They just needed to make it out alive. Please.

But to your worst fear the enemy planes were focused on Rooster.

“Dagger Two defending. Shit, I'm out of flares!”

“Rooster, evade, evade!” You heard his uncle shout.

“I can't shake ‘em! They're on me! They're on me!”

You didn't know what was happening., you weren't there. You didn't see it. All You could do was listen. Listen and wait. It felt awful not being able to do anything.

There was a moment of silence, only the heavy breathing from the pilots.

“Mav! No!”

“Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit! Maverick is down!”

Your breath caught in your throat. Mav was hit.

“Dagger One, Status. Status! Anyone see him? Did anyone see him?! Dagger One, come in!” You heard the panic in Rooster's voice.

“I didn't see a parachute.”

Shit.

“We have to circle back!”

You felt your heart pumping, this was all so much. You knew this was a difficult mission, hell, a suicide mission but you still hoped this wouldn't happen!

“All Daggers flow to ECP. You have bandits headed for you.”

“What about Maverick?!” There was a strain in Bradley's voice.

“Dagger Square request permission to launch and fly air cover.” You suddenly spoke up. You had to help. You needed to help.

“Negative, spare.”

Shit!

“Dagger, you are not to engage. Repeat, do not engage.”

“Dagger Two, return to carrier. Acknowledge.”

Bradley, please. Come home safe.

You also wanted to save Maverick, but not with Bandits in the air.

The silence was killing you.

“Rooster, those bandits are closing. We can't go back.” You heard Phoenix say. “Rooster, he's gone.”

It hurt, but Bob was probably right. He was gone. He was with Goose. “Maverick's gone.”

Maverick had sacrificed himself for Rooster. Your best friend had sacrificed himself for your son….

Your heart began to pound as you realized Bradley was flying back. He wanted to save Mav. You wanted to scream at him to get his ass back to the ship, but you couldn't. He wouldn't even listen.

The not knowing was killing you. Not being able to do anything. Being stuck on the ship while your son was out there fighting for his life.

After minutes that felt like hours you heard the words you only wished to hear in your darkest nightmares.

“Dagger Two is hit.”

Rooster was hit.

You could barely hold it together anymore. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but you had to hold it in.

“Dagger Two, come in. Dagger Two, do you copy? Dagger Two, come in.”

You were horrified. You might have just lost your only child and your best friend. Now you were alone.

One Minute turned into two. Two into five. Five into ten. Nothing. No reply, no sign of life.

You had no idea what the hell was going on in the tower, they weren't talking to you. Not one word. Was there a trace of the two? Were they still alive? You didn't know and it was one of the worst things you've ever felt.

After what felt like an eternity, you were finally given permission to launch and fly to their rescue after they had detected Rooster's ESAT.

Soon you saw them, they were involved in an air fight and obviously losing. You managed to bring your jet behind the enemy's plane without bringing any attention to yourself. That was the way you got your callsign. You were a Shadow, you could easily follow any planes without being noticed.

Just as they were about to shoot down Maverick and Rooster, you fired a shot and hit the bandit. The bandit was down and they were save. They were finally save and back with you.

You flew right through the smoke towards the F-14, you had never been happier to see a jet.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your savior speaking.”

There was a grin on your face, you had never been so glad.

“Hey, mom, you look good.”

“I am good, Bradley. I'm very good.”

“I'll see you back on Deck.” You flew back and were the first to land. You got out of the Jet and watched everybody put up a net to catch the F-14.

Once they were back on deck you didn't hesitate one second to run towards them. “Bradley!” You shouted.

Everybody came running towards them, cheering and congratulating them.

Maverick got out and first went to Hondo, while Bradley came running towards you.

“Oh, my boy, I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone.” You sobbed and took him into your arms.

“You're not getting rid of me easily, Mom.” He laughed and hugged you tightly, not letting you go for a while. “You're a hero, Bradley. I'm so so proud of you. Your- your dad would be so proud, god-” You teared up.

“I know Mom, I know.”

You parted from him so he could celebrate with the others. The other Daggers immediately came to him.

Once again you could swear there were looks between Jake and Rooster, but you didn't mention anything.

“Captain Mitchell! Captain Mitchell!” You then saw Bradley approach Pete. Without hesitating, Maverick pulled him into a hug. A hug that meant the World.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“It's what my dad would've done.”

________________________________________

Days after the mission the whole Dagger Squad was sitting in the Hard Deck together, having drinks and cracking jokes. Bradley, of course, sat down at the piano and sang once again. The whole Bar chimed in and sang “Great balls of fire” with him.

“Oh! You're fine, so kindGot to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!”

You could have sworn he took a glance towards Jake during that line.

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

Miami Vice S2E6: Buddies

A young mother is pursued by the mob, and Sonny's old friend may know why.

This episode opens with the world's saddest celebration of new fatherhood; a man turns the jukebox on to Kim Mitchell's Go for a Soda, sits alone at the bar, orders "three shots for fatherhood" and then gets really huffy at the bartender and sulks while drinking his three shots.

Initially it seems like this man has no friends or loved ones (and clearly isn't that into his wife, who presumably is still at the hospital alone with their new son), but then Sonny comes in, and we learn that the pitiful new father in question is Robbie Cann, Sonny's old friend from college and Vietnam

Looking at The Dutch Oven, I mentioned that Sonny's natural tendency is to be physically affectionate with those he cares about (but that he sometimes struggles with when he is allowed or supposed to do so with men). Sonny throws his arm around Robbie and pats him on the back in an easy, natural, guys-being-guys, football locker room kind of way. Robbie is someone Sonny clearly cares deeply about, but also someone he almost certainly has only ever viewed platonically. There's none of the hesitance Sonny tends to have when he doesn't know a man well enough yet or when there's a possible implication of queerness-- Robbie is just his bro, plain and simple

Robbie pulls out a photo of himself and Sonny in Vietnam and asks him if he knows who this picture is of. Sonny isn't clear what Robbie's getting at, and then Robbie tells him: "me and my son's godfather." Sonny is flattered beyond belief, but even so, quickly confirms-- "is this what Julia wants, too?" He could just be being polite, but there is a very subtle implication here that something is already a little off-- whether Sonny has a sense that Robbie often does things without consulting his wife's opinions, that Julia has a different opinion of Sonny than Robbie does, or just that Sonny doesn't 100% implicitly trust Robbie, despite his affection for him.

When Sonny accepts, Robbie goes to dance on a pool table and almost gets shot. Sonny plays the role of "sensible deescalator," which is actually truly what is in his nature, no matter how much pop culture history wants him to have been a "cowboy cop."

Our old pal Ample Annie returns in this episode without her husband Noogie, conversing with a young waitress named Dorothy. Dorothy has fled her abusive husband with an 8 month old baby named Stevie, and is trying to start a new life. Unfortunately, she is fired for dropping drinks, and follows a young Nathan Lane back to his hotel room under the promise of another job.

Lane, playing a crappy standup comic, first (unsuccessfully) attempts to woo Dorothy; when that doesn't work he attempts (also unsuccessfully, because she stabs him) to rape her. The scene manages to be harrowing despite the fact that Lane is wildly miscast here-- I do not buy that he is a sleazebag nor that he wants to do harm to this young mother.

Dorothy flees, sticking Stevie in her purse. She will do this repeatedly over the course of the episode-- baby goes in bag. Oops, baby goes in bag again. Bag baby! Baby bag. She also continuously picks up random pieces of paper and throws them over him in the bag-- I guess she's trying to hide him? But also like, the baby was not the one who killed a man, and the baby is not the one being pursued by the police, so I don't entirely understand why she feels like she's more suspicious with a baby than without. Also, choking hazard, much??

Upon finding the deceased standup comic, Rico remarks, "definitely not a funny way to die." Ten second later, Sonny comes in, looks at the dead guy, and says exactly the same thing.

You two are the worst

And you deserve each other

The paper Dorothy was using to hide/suffocate her child was, unfortunately, betting sheets, and so she is pursued by both the mob and the cops; even more unfortunately, it turns out Robbie might be involved.

When Sonny and Rico go to talk to Annie at the mysterious Hollywood themed hot dog stand she works at, Annie offers them a discounted meal-- Sonny grins from ear to ear and informs Annie that Tubbs doesn't eat meat. You get the sense that Sonny thinks this is the funniest thing in the whole world, and that he probably asks poor Rico about his rabbit food and whether or not he's got any soy loaf today like. Every single day

This is a really good "the whole vice squad works together to solve a mystery" episode, with a nice montage of each member of the team doing their thing. It is Rico, however, who notices Robbie's name on a list of possible suspects-- a detail that I love, because it shows us a) how much Rico pays attention to everything and how detail-oriented he is, b) the extent to which Sonny is blinded to the possible wrongdoing of anyone he cares for (did he see the name and not register it? Did he subconsciously skip over it?), and c) that Rico cares deeply enough about Sonny that he remembers the names of other friends Sonny has, presumably, mentioned to him in passing.

I do not think I know most of my friends' other friends that I haven't met's last names, if I'm being honest with you

I do know many of my husband's friends and coworkers I haven't met's last names, though

Which could mean nothing

Rico also has his hand on Sonny's chair and his eyes pinned to the back of his neck while everyone else is watching the surveillance tapes-- Sonny hasn't started his Season 3-and-on self-destructive spiral yet, but you get the sense that Rico knows it's coming

I like that this episode comes right on the heels of Dutch Oven (even though it may not have intended to be originally-- see: Zito's magic appearing and disappearing beard. While I'm usually a fan of watching shows in the filmed/original chronological order, I actually think Buddies is genuinely better after Dutch Oven than after Out Where the Buses Don't Run), because it's clear what a stark contrast there is in how David and Robbie are treated. David, who most likely was never involved in any crime and just picked shitty friends, is lied to and set up as a patsy. Robbie, who turns out to be actively working for his father, a mob boss, is informed of Sonny's investigation, warned of Vice's suspicion of his possible involvement, and given an opportunity to turn over evidence or help them.

Is this because David is Black and Robbie is white? Is it because Trudy is a woman, and therefore "can't be trusted" when she's "too close" to a suspect, but Sonny is a man and therefore can? Is it because drug crimes are treated with significantly more severity than other crimes because of Nixon's push to start the War on Drugs in order to jail minorities and political dissidents?

Is it.... all of the above?

It's fine everyone the show's just about speedboats and bikinis don't think about it too hard

Rico pushes Sonny a little too hard when he realizes something is off with Robbie and Sonny's response is "he may come off like a playboy, but"

Sonny do you know what a playboy is

Rico, internally: I was implying he was a mobster Sonny why are we talking about his sex life

As in Evan, Rico sighs and realizes he will need to look more deeply into one of Sonny's old friends before everything blows up in their faces; he learns that Robbie is the son of mobster Johnny Cannata, and changed his name to Cann to distance himself. For some reason he confronts Sonny with this information in the men's room.

Sonny, displacing his anger, attacks Dorothy's husband, who Trudy has just brought in to the station. Rico gives the guy a little slap, too, for... solidarity? Good measure?

Later, when Sonny has processed all of this and goes to confront Robbie, Robbie gets weepy and is like "what am I supposed to do, Sonny, put my dad in jail?" (Uh... yeah? You tried to distance yourself from him for years and now the alternative is letting a young woman and her baby be murdered, so... yes?)

As with Sonny and Evan (and to some extent, Scottie Wheeler, and really most of the Sad Broken Dudes who show up in Sonny's life), they have a discussion about what it means to be a man. Like Scottie, Robbie is of the opinion that Being a Man means making lots of money, even through shady means. Sonny insists that Being a Man means standing up for what's right, and suggests Robbie "do something" about the Dorothy situation.

Robbie, helpfully, offers to kill himself, as if that is a solution to anything happening in this episode (why are all of Sonny's old friends suicidal)

He then reveals he knows where Dorothy is but can't tell Sonny

Sonny doubles down on Manhood Is Being Just And Fair and Standing Up for The Little People, and (rightly) points out to Robbie that if he lets his family roll over him now, it'll happen forever and he'll never be able to look his son in the eye

Robbie seems won over and Sonny (stupidly) leaves him alone to "call his wife;" Robbie escapes

I'm fascinated by the choice to NOT have Sonny parallel Robbie and Dorothy here-- you would think that the fastest way to get Robbie on Dorothy's side would be to remind him that they are both new parents of infant sons, and that they are both trying to do anything in their power to protect and provide for their children

This is obviously the parallel the episode as a whole is making, but it isn't stated out loud. I wonder about the implication of this-- are we supposed to assume that Sonny didn't think that Robbie would be able to relate to a woman's plight and thus didn't use it, or that Sonny himself didn't relate to Dorothy's experience of parenthood and therefore didn't even think to bring it up? (Given that Sonny also questions Robbie potentially disregarding his wife's wishes in the first scene, I'm inclined to believe it's the former-- that he knows right now that Robbie is so hung up on the idea of manhood and fatherhood that asking him to compare himself to a mother isn't going to get him anywhere, even if their struggle is ultimately very similar.)

Robbie goes to find Dorothy and give her money to escape; meanwhile, Sonny tracks down Annie and, upon seeing that she has baby food, asks her to bring him to Dorothy (who, it turns out, is staying at her place)

Annie's apartment is shot into six hundred thousand bits by the mob, Dorothy seems to escape unscathed, and Robbie catches a stray bullet. It is genuinely unclear if Robbie dies (or if Dorothy is charged with murder, or if Robbie's dad is caught, or any number of loose threads are wrapped up)-- the episode ends before anyone says anything about his condition, and he is still awake and speaking, but losing blood. Sonny does not respond to him with the terror and desperation we see with Evan (nor that we will later see Ira in Back in the World), which inclines me to believe Robbie will survive.

He asks of Sonny, questioningly, "I did the right thing?" and Sonny's response is, "Yeah. You did the right thing," followed by a look off to the side that reads far more like shame or disgust than sadness or fear. You get the sense that the tragedy in this episode is the shattering of Sonny's trust and sense of who he is and who he can count on more than the actual body count. Robbie may survive... but it seems unlikely that their friendship will.

[caystar13star]

So based on this post, I have a little bit written. Thought I’d share it. It will eventually include this post as well.

CyMav (I completely suck at titles)

It started with a text.

Mav was reluctantly at a Naval conference in Las Vegas. Reluctant, because most of the upper brass attending were not his biggest fans. The only reason he’d agreed to come was because he had been asked to speak about his piloting experience with the Darkstar project.

He had seen some friends—Warlock, Chipper, even old Stinger was there. Of course, he’d met more people who didn’t like him, but that was typical for his life in the Navy.

It was as he was headed to willfully irritate one of those people, that his life changed. Warlock had invited Mav down to the pool area with a promise of stories about his son, Rooster’s time at TOPGUN.

However, when he spotted Warlock’s white hair in the hot tub, there was another large, imposing body with him. Cyclone had met Maverick earlier that day, and he made his opinion on the Captain quite clear.

As Mav stepped closer, ready to either ignore or purposefully antagonize the admiral, he saw something that made him stop in his tracks. The annoyingly tall, tight-laced, rule-following admiral had nipple rings.

Fuck! Mav’s mouth watered at the sight, and he suddenly had a new goal in sight. He was going to ride that admiral’s dick if it was the last thing he did.

Pulling out his phone, he snapped a discreet picture and texted Slider. He needed the devil on his shoulder for this one.

Mav: [pic]

Mav: I’m about to do something really stupid.

Slider: Be careful Mav. I know for a fact you’re a size queen…

Slider: But Cyclone got his callsign doing the helicopter in the locker room.

Mav: 😳😳😳🥵

Slider: Dude is hung.

Mav: Bigger than you??

Slider: Definitely.

Mav: Wish me luck!

Mav: And don’t tell Ice!

Slider: 🙄

Slider: Ice, you are not gonna believe this shit…

Mav fluffed his hair up and sauntered over to the hot tub. He had already rolled his jeans up just below his knees, but he waited until he made eye contact with Cyclone before he reached down and pulled his t-shirt off slowly, tossing it, along with his phone, on the table nearby.

“Hello, gentlemen,” he purred, lowering his eyelids and holding the admiral’s gaze. “Mind if I join you?”

Warlock was chuckling into his drink, watching the train wreck play out in front of him. Cyclone rolled his eyes and waved his hand in reluctant acquiesce. “C’mon then, brat. Not that I think you wait for permission for much of anything.”

Mav grinned brilliantly, perching on the edge right next to the admiral, dipping his rather dainty feet into the water. “ I might surprise you, Beau, I can be very obedient under the right circumstances.”

It took everything Cyclone had not to shiver as Mav accidentally brushed his foot against Cy’s shoulder as he shifted position. He was no idiot. The bratty captain was making his interest very clear.

Well, there was that saying about Vegas, right?

He wasn’t sure exactly how they got back to his room. They had ordered a few drinks from the poolside bar, and Warlock had abandoned them after Mav tied his cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

Beau was a practical man. He had earned his stars by learning the rules and executing them perfectly. It had also unfortunately been a long time since he had gotten laid. And Captain Mitchell unfortunately checked all his boxes.

[tgmsunmontue]

Dance me through the panic - 1/3

Maverick/Cyclone - set in the Take more chances, dance more dances verse (Hangster and polycule Bob/Javy/Nat).

                He’s never met the infamous Maverick.

                Considering the circles he moves in it’s something of a surprise.

                He’s heard plenty though, and it’s more than enough to fill him with trepidation when Admiral Kazansky calls him and suggests, with the voice of someone who expects such a suggestion to be followed, that he bring Maverick in to assist with the mission.

                He drinks about a third of a bottle of scotch.

                It’s not a good coping mechanism. However, it does feel like an appropriate response all the same.

                Of course, he regrets the decision the following morning, head pounding and mouth furry with regret, mood sour when Solomon grins at him widely. He’s always been a morning person and right now Beau lets himself hate him for it.

…            …            …

                “Captain Pete Maverick Mitchell.”

                “Your reputation precedes you.”

                “Thank you, sir.”

                “Wasn’t a compliment.”

                “I’m Admiral Beau Simpson. I’m the air boss. I believe you know Admiral Bates,” Beau says, and he’s not quite sure why he included his first name there. At no point should Captain Mitchell be using his first name.

                “Warlock, sir. Must admit, I wasn’t expecting an invitation back.”

                “They’re called orders, Maverick,” Solomon says, tone dry and Beau has to hide a smile, the pain killers he took finally having kicked in. “You two have something in common. Cyclone here was first in his class back in 88.”

                “Actually, sir, I finished second. Just want to manage expectations.”

                And he’s back to being an annoying fuck. Great. He sucks in a breath and runs through the parameters of the mission at hand. It’s been a mad scramble, getting some of the best tacticians into a room, reviewing schematics and running through different parameters and doing multiple what if? what if? what if? Scenarios to come up with something that resembles a potential plan of attack. It doesn’t seem like one that will work. He makes a comment about old relics and Solomon raises an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t care if he ruffles Maverick’s feathers. From everything he’s heard the man is unflappable.

                “What’s your read, Captain?”

                He listens as Maverick runs through the mission, obviously talking aloud and dismissing options but summarising in a few sentences what has taken several people around the table a few hours to do.

                Fuck.

                Admiral Kazansky might know what he’s talking about after all.

…            …            …

                Maverick is studying the schematics and Beau looks at them and then back at Maverick, hears him murmur someone’s not coming back from this under his breath and he swallows roughly, jaw tense.

                “Can it be done or not?”

                “How soon before the plant becomes operational?”

                “Three weeks. Maybe less.”

                The timeline is something that has him losing sleep; he knows the pilots are good, but getting them to the point in such a short period of time is what has him the most worried.

                “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve flown an f-18, and… I’m not sure who I’d trust to fly the other three. But I’ll find a way to make it work.”

                “I think you misunderstand, captain.”

                “Sir?”

                “We don’t want you to fly it. We want you to teach it.”

                “Teach, sir?” Maverick asks, and the way he says it makes it sound like a dirty word, and his entire demeanour is confused and Beau would find it amusing in any other circumstance.

                “We’ve recalled twelve top gun graduates from their squadrons. We want you to narrow that pool down to six. They’ll fly the mission. Is there a problem, captain?”

                “With all due respect, sir, I’m not a teacher.”

                Beau notes he doesn’t answer the question and he grimaces, it’s not a good sign.

                “You were a top gun instructor before.”

                “That was almost 30 years ago. I lasted two months. It’s not where I belong.”

                Beau lets out a long breath.

                “Then let me be perfectly blunt. You were not my first choice. In fact, you weren’t even on the list. You are here at the request of Admiral Kazansky. Now, Iceman happens to be a man I deeply admire, and he seems to think that you have something left to offer the Navy. What that is, I can’t imagine,” he says, although the last bit is a definite stretch of the truth if not an outright lie. However he also has Cain breathing down his neck and he’s always managed to play the political juggling game with ease. “You don’t have to take this job. But let me be clear: This will be your last post, captain. You fly for top gun, or you don’t fly for the Navy ever again.”

                If Maverick is their best shot, then he’s going to have Maverick teach his naval aviators everything he knows.

                Then next morning, when Maverick throws the F-18 NATOPS into the trashcan his stomach sinks, because this sheer disregard for the paperwork makes his skin itch and he wonders just what kind of mistake he’s made.

…            …            …

                He listens to them on the radio and he knows he didn’t pick these twelve, that they were selected by a panel, but god he’d love to know what criteria they were looking at. He has to get out, he can’t drink every night that he has to deal with listening to Maverick train these Naval Aviators, listen to them fail over and over. He’s certain that he’s going to need to visit the dentist the way he’s been grinding his teeth. He knows he can go and dance and it’s almost meditative in its actions, the music and the steps stopping his mind from spiraling on what-ifs but there aren’t any open sessions until later in the week so he’s just going to have to push through.

                He’s done harder and more difficult things.

                Probably.

                Then Maverick flies below the hard deck and he loses his temper. He’s not proud of the fact, but he’s not been sleeping or eating, too concerned about the impossible task he’s been given to oversee. He feels like he’s on a fools errand, failure guaranteed at every turn, and with it, death.            

                “And how to come home. And how to come home sir…”

                “Every mission has its risks. These pilots accept that,” Beau bites out, words bitter on his tongue.

                When Maverick places the paperwork for the request to lower the hard deck he almost laughs out loud with disbelief.

                Lord.

                The cheek of this man.

                He catches a flash of challenge and amusement in Maverick’s eyes before it’s quickly behind shutters and he exchanges a look with Solomon, who quickly decides the smartest move is to remove Maverick from his presence.

                Smart man.

…            …            …

                Thursday night comes and he flees the base for home so he can get changed and head to the dance studio, knowing he will be far too early, but also knows Bradley will be happy to partner him and dance, and if not, Cheryl will be there as well. He pushes open the door and isn’t surprised to find it empty. He sits down and slips off his shoes, pulls on his dance shoes and starts doing up the laces.

                “Be right with – oh. Beau. Nice to see you.”

                “You too. Sorry, I know it’s early. I just needed to get out.”

                “Yeah, fair enough. You want to dance?” Bradley asks with an easy grin and Beau nods, grateful that some people in his life are just easy to deal with. He knows where he stands and what is expected of him.

                “You leading or am I?”

                “You lead, I need to concentrate and get my mind off some things…”

                “Sure thing.”

                Then Bradley is pulling up a playlist on his phone, a fast jive from the quick glance Beau gets and yeah, that’ll keep his mind busy and hopefully tire his body out enough that he’ll be able to fall asleep. Then Bradley is slipping his phone into his pocket and taking his hands, jerking his head towards the dance floor. It’s good, he’s familiar with the playlist, the first couple of warmup songs then followed by faster songs and as Bradley spins and twirls him, he can feel the tension in his shoulders slipping away with each beat of the music.

                The music and the dancing force his mind to focus on being in the present, it’s exactly what he needed, unable to think about… no. Impossible. That cannot be Maverick standing at the side watching. He’s not prepared. This is his safe space damn it.

                “Maverick. What are you doing here?”

                “I’m here to see Bradley. My godson.”

                “Hey Mav…”

                Oh fuck.

                Of course Bradley and Maverick know each other. He’d forgotten that. When he’d first started coming to lessons years ago Bradley hadn’t been the owner, just one of the instructors. He likes Bradley, enjoys his sense of humor, he’s intelligent and of course, an excellent dancer. He knew in an academic way that there were ties between him and Admiral Kazansky, and now Maverick. There goes his safe space and the tension in his shoulders has returned ten-fold.

                “What are you doing here?” Maverick asks and Beau resists the urge to snap what does it look like? He is a mature and reasonable adult. He might need to repeat that a couple of times.

                “Dancing. It’s good stress relief.”

              �� If only the source of most of his stress wasn’t standing right in front of him.

…            …            …

                Silence is suspicious.

                When he has Maverick under his command silence is more than suspicious, it’s damning evidence that something is wrong. He walks the base and cannot find them, then he stops by the administration desk to find out that they’ve gone to the beach.

                What in the ever loving…

                Deep breaths.

                He steps onto the beach, sees Maverick pulling a shirt on and he steels himself for dealing with whatever it is that’s he’s about to have to deal with. Who the hell knows? Definitely not him.

                “Sir.”

                “What is this?”

                “This is dog fight football… Offense and defense at the same time.”

                “Who’s winning?”

                “I think they stopped keeping score a while ago…”

                “This detachment still has some training to complete Captain. Every available minute matters.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “So why are we out here playing games?”

                “You said to create a team, sir. There’s your team…”

                God he hates that Maverick is right, can’t even think of anything to say and just turns and walks away. Has to trust that Admiral Kazansky knows what he’s doing, and that Maverick also somehow, knows what he’s doing. It’s infuriating. He walks up the steps and takes a seat opposite Penny, doesn’t lay his head down on the table and bang it despite the urge to do so.

                “Penny.”

                “Beau. Heard you’ve got Pete under your command…”

                He snorts, because directing Maverick is like expecting a jellyfish to follow directions and then getting stung for your troubles.

                “He’s infuriating.”

                “That he is. But he sure looks good while he annoys everyone doesn’t he?”

                As if he can hear them talking about him Maverick turns toward them, shades his eyes and then waves. Penny waves back and Beau wonders if it’s too early for a drink. Penny looks at him, calculating look in her eye and Beau feels exposed.

                “Drink?”

                He shakes his head, because he’s already put his liver through enough and today isn’t even that damning. He’ll save it for when he really needs it, because he suspects he’s really going to need it in the coming few days and weeks.

…            …            …

                “Admiral Kazansky sir.”

                He gets a gentle nod of greeting. He knows that Admiral Kazansky is sick, that he had cancer and that it’s come back. He also knows that the man is a stubborn and scary motherfucker and if anyone was going to continue working until the very end then it will be him. Even if he could, he would never try and tell the other man what to do.

                “I was after some advice sir.”

>>OF COURSE.

                “Maverick, sir.”

                Admiral Kazansky is now coughing, but Beau is pretty sure it’s due to the fact that the other man is laughing at him.

                “I’m glad you find the situation amusing sir.”

                He gets a hand wave and a marginally apologetic look.

>>YOU ARE ONE IN A LONG LINE OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE COME TO ME ASKING FOR ADVICE ON HOW TO DEAL WITH MAVERICK.

                “Sir. You do realize you have Caps Lock on?”

>>Oh. Sorry.

>>What do you want help with exactly?

                “How do you… trust him?”

>>He saved my life. He’s a damned fine pilot.

                “He’s a liability.”

                Admiral Kazansky shakes his head.

>>You’re pronouncing legend wrong.

                “Tom.”

>>Sorry. Just…

>>Yes he takes risks. But they are calculated risks and he is very experienced.

>>I trust him with my life.

>>I trust him with the lives of all twelves of those aviators.

>>He is the best chance we have of success.

…            …            …

                The funeral is somber as most funerals tend to be. He knows Maverick and Admiral Kazansky were close. There were rumors that they were maybe something more, but the rumors he’s heard about Maverick could fill several carriers and he doesn’t have time to figure out which ones are based in truth and which ones are completely fanciful. Regardless of it all he’s faced with twelve aviators incapable of flying the route, all thinking it impossible within the parameters Maverick has laid out.

                He needs a new tack.

…            …            …

                “Who the hell is that?”

                “Maverick to range control. Entering point Alpha. Confirm green range.”

                “Uh, Maverick, range control, uh, green range is confirmed. I don’t see an event scheduled for you, sir.”

                “Well, I’m going anyway.”

                “Nice,” Lieutenant Trace murmurs under her breath and Beau bites his tongue.

                “Setting time to target: Two minutes 15 seconds.”

                “2:15? That’s impossible.”

“Final attack point. Maverick’s inbound.”

                He can see that Maverick is already up to speed when he hits the green zone and he finds himself holding his breath, hoping. The tension in the room grows with every second ticking past and they can all hear Maverick as he maneuvers his plane in the sharp turns to navigate the simulated valley walls.

                “Damn,” Seresin mutters and Beau finds himself silently agreeing.

                Damn indeed.

…            …            …

                He wants them to survive.

                He wants them to believe that they can survive.

                He has to ignore the fact that Maverick stole a plane. Again. Probably ruined it beyond all repair if he’s being honest. Again. But… and it’s a big but, however it’s an important one. He showed it could be done and now there are twelve aviators brimming with excited anticipation about trying something that is near-impossible, but not actually impossible. Rather than facing it with resigned acceptance that they’re definitely going to die, Maverick has handed them each a careful fragile butterfly of hope.

                He can’t believe he’s going to risk his career like this. Wonders if this is what Admiral Kazansky felt every time he put his neck out for Maverick. Except when he considers where Admiral Kazansky ended up, COMPACFLT, then maybe his trust in Maverick was never unfounded.

…            …            …

                God he wishes Maverick wouldn’t call them miracles.

                The more he listens to Maverick talk the more he feels sick. It’s a suicide mission and he hates that he’s part of it, even with their renewed hope he knows Maverick cares about them all and wants to fly it not because of his ego, but because if he can stop one of the others from going and maybe dying, then that’s what he will do. The G-lock and bird strike made Beau realize just how much Maverick cares and he finds himself liking that about him.

                He didn’t think he’d come to like Maverick.

…            …            …

                His hopes have been steadily building, he wants them all home. Loosing people under his command is never easy, and fucking Maverick has him believing that he might get them all home safe. It’s gone from a certainty of losing someone, the mission failing, everyone dying… all nightmares. Instead he has belief. He doesn’t know whether to punch him or kiss him. The idea of kissing him is a new one, but he’s got years of practice at squashing and ignoring those thoughts, pretending they don’t exist at all.

                “Are you okay Captain?

                “Of course. Never better.”

…            …            …

                “Come home safely.”

                He repeats the words in his head like a mantra, a prayer and demand all wound into a tight ball in his gut as he listens as the Daggers each announces their ready status.

                “Send them.”

                He can feel sweat trickling down his spine.

PART TWO