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bellaireland1981 · 10 months

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Special Delivery for the Birthday Boy

Summary: You enlist Phoenix’s help to surprise your husband on his birthday. You’d been living on opposite coasts since he’d been called back to Top Gun and you were ready to reunite with him just in time to celebrate his birthday. An added bonus is you also get to surprise the rest of the Daggers who have no clue that Bradley is married.

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairings: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of birthday sex but no actual smut, mentions of pregnancy.

A/N: I do not own TGM characters, I DO NOT give permission to anyone to repost, copy or translate my work to any other platform or website. Don’t steal my work... it’s not cool. AS always thank you to @waywardodysseys and @beyondthesefourwalls for letting me bounce ideas off them and encouraging me!! Reblogs and comments always appreciated!

Masterlist

Side note: Meant to get this posted yesterday but wanted to redo a few things on it...still not 100% sure I love how it turned out but...here you go!

YOU: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY! I LOVE YOU! I’ll be in interviews all day but I’ll FaceTime you tonight. Fly Safe! 💋

HUBBY: Thank you, Dove. I miss you so much 🙁 Wish you were here. Love you 💗

“Are you sure he doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked, putting your suitcase into the back and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks again for coming to get me!”

“Y/N, I promise, he’s absolutely clueless.” Phoenix assured you, smiling. “He’s been moping around all day because he can’t get a hold of you. And you’re welcome! I can’t wait to see his face!”

“I can’t wait to see his face either… I miss that face.” You said, leaning back in the seat. “I’ll be so happy when we’re living on the same damn coast again.”

“When will that be?” She asked, merging into the traffic leaving the San Diego International Airport. “Rooster mentioned you had some loose ends to tie up out East.”

“That’s part of his birthday present.” You said beaming, “I actually just accepted a teaching position for the fall. I had an interview over Zoom yesterday. Bradley thinks I’m in interviews all day today.”

“Y/N that’s awesome!” Phoenix exclaimed, “He’ll be so damn excited.”

“I’m excited.” You laughed, “I’ve had enough of being across the country from my husband. Especially after the last mission. How are things really going with him and Maverick?”

“Honestly?” She said, “Much better than when we got back to Top Gun. They’ve talked and are actively trying. It’s been really good for Rooster.”

“Good.” You replied, “I’ve been trying to get him to reach out for a few years. He just wasn’t ready. I’m glad he got this chance. It’ll be interesting to meet the man.”

“He’s a good guy.” She said, “Bob and I are the only ones that know about you, by the way.”

“I figured.” You laughed. “I’m kind of looking forward to that bombshell being dropped too. From everything I’ve heard about everyone, the reactions should be priceless. I’m especially looking forward to Hangman’s reaction.”

“Oh, this will be absolutely priceless.” Phoenix laughed, “For as much shit as he gives Rooster for never hitting on women at the Hard Deck and not having any game… he’s going to have to eat his words. He’ll most likely hit on you though if he meets you before knowing you’re married to Rooster.”

“Are things better between them though?” You asked, “I know Hangman wasn’t Bradley’s favorite person… and they’ve butted heads in the past. When it counted though, that man came through for my husband and it’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

“They’ve formed a tentative friendship.” She said, “It’s new… but there is a strong mutual respect between them. They’ve flown better together in training since the mission…have become a pretty damn good team actually.”

“It makes me feel better knowing he’s got the best pilots in the Navy flying with him.” You said, “I always felt safer when I knew he was deployed with you.”

“Just because you know I’ll keep his ass out of trouble.” She laughed. “I get it though. You have to trust your wingman. This last mission showed us that we can really all trust one another to come through for each other.”

She pulled into the driveway of her apartment complex parking her car and the two of you got out. You grabbed your suitcase from the back and followed her up to her apartment.

“Ok I just need like a half hour to shower and get ready!” You said, “Then I’ll be ready to go!”

“Take your time.” She laughed, “I’ll grab a towel for you. While you shower, I’ll text the group. Jake is actually in charge of getting Bradley to the Hard Deck for birthday drinks.”

You opened your suitcase, pulling out a sundress you’d left on top for easy access. It was one of Bradley’s favorites on you so you made sure to pack it. You grabbed the strapless bra and matching lace panties you’d bought to wear with the dress and headed to the shower. You tied your hair up so it wouldn’t get wet and quickly jumped into the shower.

True to your word, thirty minutes later you were dressed and ready to go. You’d left your hair down, opted for light makeup and only wore a necklace Bradley had given you for your anniversary (a Dove pendant on a dainty silver chain). You slipped your feet into wedge sandals and grabbed your purse and the small gift bag with Bradley’s other birthday present in it and headed out to the living room where Phoenix was waiting.

“Ready!” You said, excited to finally be headed out to see your husband.

“Jake said he’s having a hard time getting Rooster to go to the bar. He asked him after work and he said he was just going to go home.” Phoenix said. “I can drop you off at the Hard Deck then go to the house and drag his ass out. He’ll listen to me.”

“Hold on.” You said, “He’s probably waiting for me to FaceTime him and doesn't want to miss that call… SHIT! He’ll recognize your apartment…. Ok…. no problem.. I’ve got this.”

You brought your husband’s name up on your phone, hitting the call button.

“Baby you said FaceTime.” Bradley complained, answering the phone on the second ring. “Where’s your beautiful face?”

“I know, Sweetie,” You replied, sighing, “I promise I’ll FaceTime you later tonight. I messed up the time difference and I got a call from another school to interview with. I just really want to find a job out there so I can get to you. How about you go get a birthday drink with Nix and then by the time you get home I’ll be free and we can FaceTime.”

“It’s OK, Dove.” He said, “Good luck in the interview, Baby. They’ll all want you and you’ll have your pick of jobs. I just miss you so damn much. I want to be able to come home to you at night. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You said, your heart breaking at how sad he sounded, even knowing you were about to make him so happy. “I’ll be home there with you before you even know it and you’ll be coming home to me every single night. Promise you’ll go get a drink with your friends? Celebrate your birthday?”

“I promise.” He said, “I’ll talk to you later, Baby. Good Luck.”

“Thank you, Sweetie.” You replied, “I love you so so much.”

“Love you too.” He replied.

After hanging up you had Phoenix text the group chat again to let everyone know that drinks were happening at the Hard Deck in thirty minutes for Bradshaw’s birthday. Then she texted Bradley and let him know she wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer.

PHOENIX: Bradshaw, your ass better be at the Hard Deck in 30 minutes or I’ll be at your house to drag your ass out myself. 😡

ROOSTER: My wife already texted you? Lol 😂 I’m changing out of my flight suit now. Be there in 30.

“Alright, he’s changing now!” Phoenix said, smiling, “Let’s get you to your husband!”

You pulled your suitcase back down to her car, throwing it into the back again to be transferred to your husband’s Bronco once you were at the Hard Deck. Knowing you were going to be seeing him in 30 minutes caused excitement to flood your system. You’d been married for three years, together for five and gone through much longer deployments and separations that the one you’d just been through, but never before had he flown such a dangerous mission where it had been pretty much assumed someone wasn’t coming home.

“Not long now!” Phoenix said, smiling over at you, knowing where your head was going. “An added bonus to this new assignment is the deployments won’t be as often or as long. We will actually be getting to do more instructing of the new classes of Top Gun students in between missions. You won’t have to worry about long separations anymore.”

“I’ve done ok as long as I didn’t let myself think about it too much.” You said, “The minute I let myself think about how close he came to not coming home… I lose it.”

“You’ll feel much better once you see him and have him back in your arms.” She promised, “I know he’ll feel better once he’s got you in his arms too.”

“You’re right.” You said. “Just need him in my arms.”

She pulled into the parking lot of the bar a short time later and you made your way inside.

“Looks like everyone except Rooster is here.” Phoenix said, spotting everyone in their regular corner of the bar when they walked in. “Let’s go grab drinks from the bar and kill time until he gets here. I want him to be the one to introduce you.”

You followed her to the bar, sitting in one of the free seats.

“Hey, Phoenix.” Penny said, coming over, “What can I get for you two?”

“Hey, Penny.” She replied, “I’ll take a beer, Y/N?”

“Just a Ginger Ale or Sprite if you have it?” You asked, smiling. “I’m going to be DD tonight for my husband.”

“One of these aviators belong to you?” Penny asked, grabbing the beer for Phoenix and filling a glass with ice and pouring the amber soda for you.

“He’s not here yet.” You replied, smiling. “But yeah, I have to take claim for an aviator.”

“Penny, do you know if Mav is coming tonight?” Phoenix asked, winking at you. “Figured he might pop in for Rooster’s birthday.”

“I think he said he’s stopping in.” She replied, “I’m so glad those two are finally talking!”

“You and me both!” Phoenix replied, taking a drink of her beer.

“Phoenix, why are you sitting over here keeping your beautiful friend here from joining us?” A smooth voice sounded behind you both. You turned and smirked, knowing exactly who was standing behind you.

“Bagman, you’re not allowed to harass my friend.” Phoenix said, rolling her eyes. “She is definitely not your type.”

“I’m Hangman.” He said, flashing a megawatt smile, complete with dimples. You were sure that smile landed him plenty of ladies. You had to bite back a laugh when you glanced over at Phoenix who was rolling her eyes. “Or Jake, whichever you prefer.”

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Hangman.” You replied, glancing behind him as the door opened and a very familiar mustached aviator walked in wearing one of his million Hawaiian shirts. Thankfully he hadn’t seen you yet so you still had the element of surprise. “Phoenix is right though, you’re not my type. I only give my heart to 6 '1”, brown eyed,curly haired, aviators with mustaches and a penchant for Hawaiian shirts.”

“Oddly specific…” He said, confused, but turning to see where your eyes had landed. You hopped off the seat and moved past him, straight into Bradley’s line of sight.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw!” You called, catching his attention. His head shot up, his eyes locking in on you immediately, a shocked smile stretching across his face. “Surprise, Baby! Happy Birthday!”

“Dove!” He exclaimed, finally snapping out of his shock. He closed the distance between you two quickly, meeting him in the middle, and scooped you up into his arms. Your legs wrapped around him so he was holding you koala style, your lips locking against his own in a passionate kiss, neither of you caring that you were standing in the middle of a crowded bar. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so damn much, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re really here!”

“Forgive me for not FaceTiming now?” You asked, laughing “I was at Phoenix’s apartment when I called.”

“You’re a little minx.” He laughed. “I forgive you baby.”

“Bradshaw!” Jake said, “Care you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Give me a minute, Hangman.” Bradley replied, setting you down, but not letting you go. “I haven’t seen my wife in a couple of months. Let me say ‘hello’.”

“WIFE?” Jake exclaimed, “Phoenix, you know about this?”

“Yup.” She smirked, leading Jake away from you and Bradley. “Give them a minute. They’ll join us shortly.”

You were still wrapped in Bradley’s arms and you finally felt like you were home.

“I can’t believe you’re really here, Dove.” He said, resting his forehead against your own. “You look so beautiful, Baby.”

“I’m really here, my love.” You promised, kissing him softly. “It’s so good to see your face and kiss you and to be in your arms. I love you so much. From now on, I will go where you go whenever humanly possible.”

“I love you too, Beautiful.” He replied, “I’m hoping this will be our permanent home base. How close are we to being a one coast family?”

“Actually, how likely is it that you can get leave to help me pack up our Virginia house?” You asked.

“Pretty likely.” He smiled, “Do you have a timeline?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” You said, “I accepted a job out here for the fall, officially resigned at the district in Virginia Beach and cleared out my classroom two days ago.”

“FUCK YES!” He exclaimed, picking you up and swinging you around, “I’ll put in for leave tomorrow. As soon as it’s granted we’ll book a flight back and pack it all up and list the house.”

“Bradshaws!” Jake yelled, “Join the party!”

“We’re being paged.” You laughed, “Come on, Baby. Introduce me to your friends.”

You and Bradley walked over to the corner where everyone had congregated and introductions were made.

“Everyone, this is my wife Y/N.” Bradley said, happy to finally get to introduce you to everyone, “Baby, this is the squad. You’ve met Hangman. That’s Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and you already know Bob.”

“Hey Y/N” Bob said, coming over to hug you, “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Bob!” You replied smiling, hugging him back, “It’s so good to see you too!” Then looking at the rest of the group you smiled and said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you all. Bradley’s told me all about you guys.”

“Wait a damn minute!” Jake said, turning to glare and Bradley, “Phoenix and Bob BOTH knew you had a wife? What the HELL, Rooster? I saved your life and I don’t get to be in the cool kids club knowing you have a WIFE? I thought we were friends, man.”

“Jake…”Bradley said, unsure what to say, “Come on man, it’s not like that…we are friends…”

You look over at Jake who’s doing all that he can to not smile, enjoying the fact that Bradley has no idea what to say.

“Baby, he’s playing you.” You told your husband, winking at Jake. “Jake, stop bullying my husband. It’s his birthday. Play nicely and you come over for home cooked meals.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, smiling, “Sorry, Rooster. Couldn’t resist. Congrats on the beautiful wife. She’s a firecracker. Definitely keep her.”

“I plan on it, Hangman.” Bradley said, shaking his head at the blonde aviator.

The night continues with the group playing pool, swapping stories, drinking and you filling them in on how you and Bradley met and ended up married. Eventually, Phoenix made her way to the Jukebox and pulled the plug, silencing the music, causing your husband to chuckle. There was a mixed reaction from the bar to the music being cut. Some booed, upset that whatever had been playing was cut off mid song, the rest cheered, clearly knowing something was about to happen.

“That’s my cue, Baby.” Bradley said, tapping your leg to signal he needed up. You stood up to let him get off the chair, but before you could sit back down, he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him to an upright piano.

“They clearly know your party trick.” You teased, “Come on birthday boy, serenade your fans.” Bradley sat down on the bench, pulling you down next to him. His fingers moved over the keys, playing a random melody before launching into the familiar intro chords to Great Balls of Fire. You knew he could play a million other songs, but this one in particular held the most meaning to him as it was the one his dad had played and sang when he was little before he died.

You could tell Bradley had done this before here because everyone crowded around and were singing along with him while he played. You joined in, belting out the song alongside your husband. KISS ME BABY.. (you leaned in to kiss him quickly) OOOOO THAT FEELS GOOD, HOLD ME BABY….. WELL, I’LL STILL HOLD YOU LIKE A LOVER SHOULD….. YOU’RE FINE…. SO KIND… I GOT TO TELL THIS WORLD THAT YOU’RE MINE MINE MINE MINE!

When the song finished the bar erupted into loud cheers and chants yelling “ROOSTER”. You loved seeing your husband in his element like this. You quickly took advantage of being in front of the piano and scooted your husbands fingers off the keys, replacing them with your own and started to play Happy Birthday. You were happy when everyone around you immediately joined in and soon the entire bar was signing to your husband.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy BIRTHDAY dear ROOSTER, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

“Make a wish, Baby”! You said, turning towards him.

“All my wishes have come true.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you.

“Hey Rooster,” Phoenix said, gently, not wanting to interrupt the moment. “Mav’s at the bar.”

“Ready to meet my Godfather?” He asked you.

“Definitely ready.” You replied. “Then I’ve got the rest of your birthday present.”

“Baby!” He exclaimed, “You’re here, you’re MOVING here, YOU are my present.”

“Ok, well, there’s more.” You shrugged laughing. “Introduce me to Mav.”

Bradley took your hand and led you to the bar where Mav was sitting sipping a beer. He looked up as you both approached and smiled, standing up.

“Happy Birthday, Kid.” Mav said, hugging Bradley tightly.

“Thanks, Mav.” He replied, hugging him back. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

You stepped closer, smiling softly. You were nervous to meet the man that meant so much to Bradley and who had been like a father to him growing up before everything had exploded. You wanted to help your husband to build that relationship back up, knowing how important it was to have family. Your own parents adored Bradley and had immediately welcomed him into the family when you’d brought him home the first time.

“This is my wife, Y/N.” He said, his arm around your waist, “Baby, this Mav. He helped my mom raise me after my dad died.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Mav said, his voice thick with emotion.

“It’s great to finally meet you too.” You replied, smiling, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“For the record, Y/N’s been trying to get me to reach out for a couple of years now.” Bradley admitted. “I’m just bullheaded.”

“At least he admits it.” You laughed. “We’d love to have you over for dinner though, Mav. I’d really love to get to know you.”

“I would love that, Y/N.” He replied, “I’d love to get to know the one making my Godson so happy.”

“He’s easy to love.” You said, looking over your shoulder at your husband. “He makes me pretty damn happy too.”

“I think I’m going to steal my wife now and take her home.” Bradley said, “She just flew in today and is still on East Coast time.”

“Sounds good.” Mav said, “Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” He replied, smiling, “See you tomorrow.”

After saying goodbye to the rest of the squad, you were finally able to escape out to the Bronco. Phoenix had already transferred your suitcase while you were inside.

“Do you need me to drive?” You asked, you hadn’t kept track of your husband’s drinks tonight.

“Nope. I’m good.” He said, smiling, opening the passenger door for you,“Only had 2 beers earlier, nothing since. Hop in, Dove.”

You leaned back in the seat, enjoying the air coming in from the open windows as Bradley drove you both home. He had found an apartment not far from base that did short term leases when he’d come back to San Diego for the mission. Now that you knew it would be permanent the two of you could start to look for a house together. You made a mental note to start looking at listings tomorrow while he was at work.

The apartment wasn’t too far from The Hard Deck either, so before long, Bradley was pulling the Bronco into the parking space and shutting it off. He came around to open your door for you before pulling your suitcase from the back of the Bronco.

“Ready to see our temporary home in person?” He asked

“More than ready.” You said, “Especially the bed… I really wanna see the bed.”

“I can’t wait to get you into bed either, Baby.” He smirked, “Birthday sex is the best.”

“Lead the way, Stud.” You winked, “I still have another birthday surprise for you.”

“Is it under your dress?” He asked, taking your hand and leading you to the front door, unlocking it and ushering you inside.

“It is…” You replied, “But I need something from my suitcase first.” You unzipped the suitcase and pulled out the small gift bag inside before handing it to Bradley. “Happy Birthday, Baby.”

He smiled, reaching to take the bag, leaning down to kiss you as he did, “Thank you, Dove.”

He opened the bag, taking out the tissue paper, and pulling out two onesies. Holding them up, you could see the moment it registered in his head what he was looking at. His eyes filled with tears as he read each one.

“Future Aviator, just like my Daddy,” He read, before holding up the other one to read, “Daddy’s Wingman”

He looked up at you, “Baby, you’re….we’re…really?” He was too choked up to get the words out. You smiled, tears of your own spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“Yes” You whispered, unable to get your own voice to work. He carefully set the onesies in the bag and pulled you into his arms, your own going around his neck. His lips connected with yours in a deep kiss, desperate to convey all of his love and feelings to you in that moment.

“We’re having a baby.” He whispered, when you’d both pulled back to breathe. “How far along?”

“I just hit 11 weeks.” You said, then reached for your purse to pull out the sonogram photo you had safely tucked inside, “And actually… let’s go sit on the couch and I’ll show you the sonogram…”

He took your hand leading you to the couch, sitting down with you tucked into his side. You handed him the envelope with the copies of the sonogram from the doctor. He carefully opened it up, pulling them out to look.

“Dove…” He said, shock once again covering his face “Are you serious right now?”

“Surprise!” You chuckled, “Turns out you're top 1% in more than just flying, Baby.”

“We’re having twins.” He smiled, looking at the sonogram, “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

“You’re gonna be the best daddy.” You confirmed, “Happy Birthday, Bradley.”

“This has been the best birthday ever, Dove.” He replied, leaning over to kiss you. “Thank you for making all of my wishes come true.”

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #Miles Teller

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southpawbitch · 6 months

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Around the World and Back (With You) | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

(18+, minors dni)

after hooking up with bradley at the beginning of summer, you can’t seem to shake him–or your developing feelings.

warnings: age gap (reader is 21 (at the start), bradley is 32), asshole jake, complicated hannix side plot, somewhat forbidden romance, asshole bradley (a teensy bit), bradley’s ex gf is...present

✧ reader’s nickname is sunny for her bright disposition

✧ playlist/moodboard (tbh, if anyone is interested)

1 | Coronado Beach | May 2018

2 | Downtown San Diego | August 2018

3 | Los Angeles | October 2018

4 | Rome | December 2018

5 | Manhattan | March 2019

6 | USC Graduation | May 2019

7 | North Island | July 2019

8 | Los Angeles | September 2019

9 | SLC International Airport | November 2019

10 | Home | November 2019

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #Top Gun fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fic

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months

Text

The Forgotten Nest (Epilogue) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 1.4k

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

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Crying; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie) and other named OCs

Summary: Ten years after the uranium facility mission, Nickie returns to Miramar.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Master List

Nickie walked through San Diego International Airport, excited to get home and surprise his family. Walking through the crowd, Nickie beamed when he spotted his ride home waiting for him. Amelia Benjamin waved to him and hurried over to greet Nickie.

“Welcome home,” Amelia joked, pulling Nickie in for a tight hug.

“It’s like you’re actually happy to see me,” Nickie replied, hugging her back. Pulling back after a moment, Nickie grinned and gestured between them. “Hey, I think I’m a full head taller than you now.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Amelia huffed, poking him in the gut. “Now, let’s get going.”

“And that’s all the warm welcome I get?” Nickie called teasingly as Amelia walked away, causing her to shoot him a playfully annoyed look over her shoulder. “You haven’t seen me in two years and that’s all that I get?”

“You’ll get to walk home if you don’t hurry up, Prince,” Amelia mocked Nickie, causing him to sour.

“Do you really have to call me that?”

“It’s your callsign,” Amelia reminded him, grinning because she knew how much he hated it when people from back home called him by his callsign. “You get called that every day. Now, come on. There’s probably traffic.”

Nickie and Amelia caught up on their drive to the Mitchell house about everything that happened since they last saw each other. They still regularly texted and emailed, since Nickie was all over the planet these days, but it had been a while since they actually were able to sit down and talk like old times. But it never took long for them to find their rhythm again.

“And we’re here,” Amelia called victoriously, putting the car into park in front of the Mitchell house.

“In one piece. Shocking,” Nickie replied, reaching for the door handle.

“You’re the one with the ticket on their record,” Amelia shot back, causing Nickie to groan.

“One time! When I was sixteen. It’s been ten years!”

“And we’ll still never let you forget it,” Amelia laughed, sliding out of her seat. “Come on. Before they hear your big mouth. Leave your bag.”

Nickie followed Amelia up the stairs of his childhood home but stuck a bit farther back. Amelia turned for the kitchen, waving to everyone. Maverick and Penny sat at the table, chatting, while Cora walked around the kitchen.

“Hey, I brought a friend. Is that okay?” Amelia asked, causing Cora to pick her head up.

“You know it is,” Cora assured Amelia with a kind smile. “Where are they?”

“Just behind me.”

Amelia stepped to the side and Nickie walked further into his childhood home and into the view of his mom. Cora let out a shrieky gasp before rushing forward to hug her baby boy. Nickie laughed and hugged his mom back, letting her cry and hold onto him for however long she wanted.

“You told me that you wouldn’t be home for three more months!” Cora complained, rocking Nickie back and forth.

“Well, something came up,” Nickie replied, causing Cora to pull away and hold him at arm’s length.

“What is it?”

“I’ll be temporarily stationed in North Island for a few weeks,” Nickie explained with a proud smile.

“Top Gun?” Maverick called from his place behind Cora. He stood back, letting his daughter thoroughly welcome her son home at first, but at the insinuation that Nickie made, he couldn’t help but step forward. “You made it to Top Gun?”

“As of two days ago,” Nickie stated, causing Cora to hold a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, Nickie, we’re so proud of you!”

Nickie accepted another bone crushing hug from his mom and then one from his grandfather, who still somehow barely had any gray hair, before glancing around the kitchen. Releasing his grandfather, Nickie looked in between Cora and Maverick.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They just went out to grab something. They’ll be back any second,” Cora sniffled, still choked up from the surprise. “Maybe I should call them.”

“I’ll do it,” Maverick offered, knowing that Cora couldn’t keep her voice level right now.

Nickie moved to greet Penny and catch up with her briefly before another set of headlights pulled into the driveway. Nickie stepped back into the hallway, out of sight of the main door, and waited for the rest of his family to come in. Rooster, now retired and working a more traditional nine to five, opened the door and held it open. A little girl with light brown curls and stark green eyes stepped inside, immediately moving to greet Cora.

“Mommy, Daddy took forever,” Carly Bradshaw-Mitchell complained, causing Cora to laugh and bend down to her height.

“He did, did he?” Cora asked, glancing up at her husband of six years.

“Nothing wrong with being thorough,” Rooster replied, not seeing Nickie quite yet. “Why’s everyone standing around?”

“Just a surprise,” Cora explained, standing back up.

Rooster frowned, a bit confused, but his daughter turned her head and spotted someone standing in the hallway. She tilted her head to the side suspiciously before she let out a gasp when she realized who the man standing in the hall was.

“NICKIE!” she shrieked before racing forward.

“Hey, Princess,” Nickie greeted his little sister, scooping her up and into his arms. “I missed you.”

Carly wrapped her arms and legs around her older brother, whimpering a bit. She looked up to Nickie more than perhaps anyone else in her life. And even though he was absent a lot because of his job, they FaceTimed and talked all that they could. And Nickie always made time for her.

“I missed you too,” Carly mumbled into his shoulder, refusing to let go of him. “You’re not allowed to leave again.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope.”

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Nickie chuckled, giving her another squeeze.

Rooster slowly approached his son, not wanting to interrupt the moment between the siblings, but still desperately wanting to greet his son after so many months apart.

“What are you doing here?” Rooster asked softly, still in a bit of shock.

“To see me!” Carly called indignantly, causing everyone to laugh.

“And I got called up,” Nickie replied, turning to his dad. “To a little school down the road.”

“Top Gun? You made Top Gun?” Rooster breathed out, not shocked but still immensely surprised.

“I start in two days,” Nickie explained, nodding along.

“Holy shit.”

“Bradley!” Cora admonished, shooting him a look and pointing at Carly. “Your daughter is right there.”

“I know I just—holy Jesus, Nickie, we’re so proud of you!”

Rooster couldn’t help himself anymore and pulled both of his children into a tight hug. Carly was a bit squished between her dad and her brother, but she didn’t mind it too much. It was better than Nickie not being home at all. Nickie kept an arm on his sister but pulled his dad in with his other arm, having missed him too.

It killed Nickie to hold in that secret about Top Gun for two days from his family. And now that the secret was finally out, he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Oh, come, let’s eat. You must be starving!” Cora called, still wiping tears from her cheeks. “And tell us all about the last few months.”

Nickie sat at the table, surrounding by his family with his sister perched on his lap. After all, if he was Prince—the callsign that he received after they found out about just how many aviators that he had in his family tree and extended network—then his little sister was rightfully Princess. And princesses got whatever they wanted.

Maverick looked between Nickie, Rooster, Cora, and Carly, remembering days in the distant past when he thought that an image like this would never be a possibility. But he was so relieved that those days were long gone and now, the Bradshaw-Mitchell family could just relax.

“He made it to Top Gun. Can you believe it?” Maverick wondered silently, glancing out the window at the setting sun.

He’s named after me, Mav! Of course, he made it! Goose would have said in return.

God help us all. Another Mitchell at Top Gun, Ice would have replied.

Smiling to himself, Maverick turned back to his family and simply enjoyed the moment.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Thank you again to everyone for reading, commenting, and reblogging this story!!

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#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #tgm #top gun #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster #rooster x oc #rooster top gun #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell

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waklman · 1 year

Text

Airplane Thoughts

prompt: bradley being extra clingy before a commerical flight.

warnings: brief mentions of plane crashes & fear of flying.

double take masterlist.

“Do we have to sit in separate seats? Mouse?—Hey, are you ignoring me?” Bradley asks, eyebrows knit together at the sight of your headphones.

Hearing his voice cut through your music, you sigh, pulling back the headset by the band, letting it sit around your neck instead.

To your right, Bradley completely disregards the metal bar that’s designed to separate your seats, lifting it up to shuffle closer to you. He lowers himself in his seat, leaning his head onto your shoulder—and you let him, with an empty expression on your face.

Bradley hums, taking the chance to slip a hand into your hoodie pocket too, the open flap of fabric that caught his attention, practically invites him in.

His fingers bend at the joints, forming a claw to scratch at your stomach through the thick cotton.

“We won’t survive a crash if we’re squeezed into the same seat,” you mutter under your breath. Reaching a hand into that front pocket, you let him toy with your hand, out of view from everyone.

He’s been like this since arriving at the terminal—more talkative than ever, blurting out pointless questions to you about the flight details. Not only that, but he’s been impossibly clingy—well, more than usual.

Though you had to admit, it made navigating through the airport much easier. There was no need to check if he was behind you, since he took the initiative to hold onto some part of you the entire time.

“The odds of us dying in a plane crash is one in eleven million," you state. Looking off to the side, you shyly entwining your fingers through his own thick ones, ignoring the coat of sweat on his palms.

He gives your hand a brief squeeze at the reassuring piece of information.

As you stare off, an elderly couple sitting in your row makes sudden eye contact with you.

The older woman's eyes crinkle, smiling at you as she whispers to her husband about you and Bradley’s subtle skinship.

You try to return the gesture, smiling back at her—but you can feel how strangely the expression sits on your face, it’s unnatural and slightly frightening, causing the couple to gasp and look away from you.

Their reactions leaves you a bit humiliated. You quickly avert your eyes back down to your lap, cringing at your awkward attempt at a smile.

Bradley moves to nuzzle his head into the juncture of your shoulder, too absorbed by your presence to notice the exchange. He catches a faint whiff of your body wash, and his nose twitches like a bunny, chasing that lingering scent of vanilla.

You let out a breath, trying to forget the uncomfortable interaction, not realizing that Bradley’s discreetly sniffing you, taking in your scent to comfort himself.

“If anything, your skull is so thick it’ll probably end up saving your life if we do end up falling out the sky...” you begin to ponder, busying yourself with the internal calculation.

Bradley groans against your hoodie, feeling you slowly untangle your fingers from his. He starts clawing his hand against your stomach again, somehow more demanding this time.

Noticing his immediate displeasure, you mutter a quick reassurance, “Relax, I’m coming back to you.”

You bend your arm at the elbow, bringing your hand up towards his lazy curls. He hums, pleased with the feeling of your fingers brushing past his hairline to stroke his hair.

“Someone’s clingy today,” you comment, just quietly enough for him to hear.

Lifting his head from your neck, Bradley decides to rest his chin on your shoulder, admiring your side profile. “Is it too much?” He asks, letting out a unconfident sigh, knowing he’s been extra needy with you today.

This was Bradley’s first time flying on a plane. He was so sure that his fear of heights wouldnt come into play, but it did. It became difficult for him to hide his nerves, until you were there in front of him, a grumpy look on your face from how early in the morning it was—but you were just what Bradley needed to shoo away his concerns.

“No. I like it when it’s from you," you stiffly confess, twirling a finger around one of his curls, easing his nerves.

Your answer gives him the reassurance he needs to move closer into your side, stretching his legs over to play footsie with you. He playfully kicks at your ankle and you respond by knocking back his larger foot. An unconscious smile tugs at your lips. For a second—it feels like it's just you two here.

Then, the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat can be heard. But it’s not coming from you or Bradley. “Excuse me, but the pilot is boarding the plane soon. The armrest must be down once we enter the air.”

Both your eyes grow wide, looking up at the female flight attendant. Her cherry red lips are curled into a tight smile, clearly fed up with having to make her usual rounds with other passengers.

You two rush to straighten up at the warning, pulling yourselves back into your own seats.

Bradley clears his throat. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll make sure we listen to the rules for you pretty lady,” he pulls down the metal bar for her, with a charming smile—the same charming smile that gets you two out of trouble, but also the same charming smile that makes girls’ hearts skip a beat.

The flight attendant just blinks at Bradley, not sure of how to respond for a second. “Oh. Well thank you very much sir.”

She shyly smiles this time, nodding once at Bradley before brushing down her skirt to continue walking down the aisle, flustered by his compliment.

Oblivious to her clear attraction to him, Bradley just shrugs, shoving his hand back into your pocket again.

“How ‘bout you go hold her hand," you grumble under your breath, refusing to take his hand.

You won’t even look at him. Bradley frowns—until an idea hits him.

He moves to pull the armrest back up with his free hand. “What are you doing? She just said—” you stutter, whipping your head around to check if the flight attendant’s looking your way.

“I don’t care what she says. I only listen to you,” he chirps with pursed lips, shooting his hand through the other side of your hoodie pocket. Bradley clasps a firm hand down onto your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Bradley leans in to spam shameless kisses to the side of your face next. A small giggle leaves your lips, as you try to shove his face away with your hand, ears hot from his public display of affection. But Bradley just wraps his larger hand around your wrist, grinning as he presses one last kiss to your open palm.

He slyly moves his hand up to lace his fingers through yours, holding your hand in the air so everyone can see. “Now tell me more nice facts about airplanes, Mouse. Are we sitting in the best seats to survive a crash?”

a/n: thank you for reading this small drabble for mouse and bradley! please check my series that accompanies this blurb here.

gif credits

#bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw au #double take blurb

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

Text

2019 - Miramar, California

Chapter 1 of You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description:

It's been eight years since you received your soul markers on your twenty-first birthday. In that time, your life has changed a lot. You've established your career as an Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer and traveled all over the world. You've also made friends in Naval Bases all over the world. But after years of travel, you're excited for the chance to prove yourself on solid ground working out of Naval Air Base North Island. North Island brings you the chance to connect with some old friends and meet someone who you're immediately drawn to.

Bradley's never thought he would want to find his soulmate, not when he's seen so much of the bad parts of being connected to your soul. But after his close calls during the Uranium Mission, he's craving that connection. He's instantly drawn to this girl he helps at the Hard Deck. But his reaction is anything but great when he sees how close she is to Hangman. Why is he so drawn to her then? Can he avoid her while she's stationed out of Miramar?

Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Excessive alcohol consumption. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships

This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.

Warnings: Female!Reader

Word Count: 7477

A/N: Hey All! Welcome to the first official chapter of You Are My Soulmate! We're going to see sparks fly, literally and figuratively between Bradley and Tinkerbell in this part. It's not good sparks, I'm sorry to have to report. Bradley is incredibly rude and chauvinistic and misogynistic in this part. He's also incredibly confused because his heart and his mind are telling him two different things. I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks to @girl-in-the-chairs-void and @sarahsmi13s for all of your help proof-reading and giving me feedback on this chapter! You both are the best!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Tinkerbell

A wave of heat greets you as you leave San Diego International Airport with everything you own in three colossal suitcases piled on an airport trolley in front of you. The heat feels incredible against your skin, causing a near-instant sheen of sweat to collect on the backs of your knees, your forehead, and the back of your neck. Your thin sweater and cuffed jeans were appropriate for battling wind shear on an aircraft carrier, but they're a bit much for San Diego. You strip the thin outer garment off and stuff it into your purse, fishing out a pair of sunglasses and basking in the sun while searching through your messages to see when your ride is meeting you.

"Tink! Over here!"

You grin when you see him, obnoxious though he may be, and push the precariously piled trolley up to him.

"Hey, Cowboy! How are you?"

If you'd told your younger self that Jake Seresin would become one of your closest friends, she'd have laughed and laughed before calling him a Cowboy Ken Doll to his face.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He looks good, golden and tanned, and the same as ever, even as new smile lines crinkle the corners of his eyes as he smiles sunnily at you.

"Stop flirting, Cowboy. Shut up and hug me."

His embrace feels like you’re finally home. You follow him to the tailgate as he hefts all three of your colossal suitcases in. Jake won’t let you lift a finger to help. You know it from experience, so you stay propped against the side of his truck and soak up the sun a bit longer. It’s an easy silence for a few moments as he settles your luggage.

"How's being back in San Diego treating you so far, Tink?"

Your groan as you settle into the plush, buttery soft leather of his F-150's seats is near pornographic. You prop your feet on his dash and grin at his heatless glare.

"I missed the sun. I've been stuck in the bowels of an aircraft carrier for the past three years. And I've only been stateside long enough to clear out my base housing and fly here. I swear the ground still feels like it's rocking. And don't get me started on the food and the lack of company."

"Well, that's not a feeling you’ll forget anytime soon. But you're in Miramar now, baby!"

His smile is salacious as he smirks at you from the driver's seat.

"And you've got this amazing specimen,” he gestures to himself greasily, “to show you all the best food troughs and watering holes."

You yank his sunglasses off of his nose and tip your own down so you can groan and shudder theatrically in disgust.

"Never." You shove at his forearm lightly, "Never call yourself an amazing specimen ever again. Eww. That gives me the heebie-jeebies."

Leaving the airport, the two of you are immediately in traffic, just as you remember from the last time you were in San Diego. But you're home, so even the traffic feels oddly welcoming. And you haven't seen your best friend in months, so you're happy to talk about his family, soul, and how Miramar has been. The two of you chat about anything and everything, pausing to scream-sing the lyrics to some of the songs playing until the traffic breaks.

"Alright, alright. So what's in the cards for you tonight?" Jake's teeth shine in the sunlight as he grins at you, looking like the cat that got the canary.

"Well…. I gotta take a good look at my cars and bikes, and I need to make sure you haven't trashed my house while you've been here. God knows why I let you take care of it while you’ve been stationed out of North Island."

"Your house is just fine, Tinkie. I even weeded your garden beds over the weekend."

"You?!" You're grinning, relaxing in the company of your best friend, "Weeding a garden?! Since when? I wasn't aware you'd figured out the business end of a trawl since the last time you tried 'helping' me garden."

He's grinning a smug self-absorbed grin when you look at him.

"Well, maybe I got a bit of help from Mav."

You're gawping unflatteringly at him as you let your feet land back in the footwell of his truck with a harsh thump.

"You're telling me you got Maverick Mitchell, the living piloting legend, to help weed my garden?! And he agreed?!"

"Yeah. Mav's not so bad, Tink. He's a great person. And he lives up to his reputation. He made it a squad team-bonding event! He's crazy. He has a few motorcycles and cars himself. And he restored a P-51."

"No way!" You're giddy. "Have you seen it? Is it gorgeous?! I will literally die if you've been up in it."

“It’s beeee-yootiful!” God, he’s so smug, his Texan drawl stretching each syllable. It’s nice to see he hasn’t changed at all in the years since you’ve seen him.

"That settles it. Come Monday morning, I'm driving my Kawasaki to work."

“Somebody’s a fangirl.”

“Jake! C’mon! Seriously! The man’s a living legend. He’s larger than life! He’s quite literally the best of the best. Other than you, he was the only other active-duty pilot with air-to-air kills. The way he flies a plane? It’s pure poetry. I’ve only seen him fly once, but I might swoon if he’s in one of the planes I will maintain on base.”

“Just wait until you have to call him “Admiral Mitchell, sir!” and salute when you’re introduced to him. I will bet you 15 bucks that you can’t do it without making a fool of yourself.” He’s so sure you’re going to make a fool of yourself.

“Make it 50, and I get to pick the punishment when I win.”

“You’ve got a deal, Tinkerbell.” He’s smiling smugly as he pulls the car into your driveway.

You step out into the sun and stretch, grinning at how good it feels to be home. You’d fallen in love with the cutest mid-century bungalow on the beach years ago when you’d been stationed on North Island shortly after graduating from all your qualifying courses. The sweetest old couple owned it, and you’d audaciously dropped by one afternoon offering your help. They’d treated you like their granddaughter, as they didn’t have any children or grandchildren, and you’d loved them too.

It had broken your heart when a lawyer contacted you during one of your early deployments, informing you that they had passed away in their sleep. You had sobbed on the phone as you found out they had left you their house. Since that day, you’ve been trying to live like that lovely old couple. They were each other’s soulmates and had adored each other from the day they met to the day they died. You’d kept the house, hoping it would be as lovely to you and your soul as it was to the two of them. It was now your home base every time you were stateside, and now where you’re fortunate enough to be living long-term for the first time since you inherited it.

You can feel your life slot back into place, the exhaustion and stress of being onboard an aircraft carrier for so long melting away as you step into your home.

"I'll set your bags in the master bedroom. You stink, Tinkie. Go shower, and then I'll buy you dinner and take you out for drinks." You roll your eyes at the mock disgust on his face when you’re sure he’s smelled much worse.

"Love you, Jay!" You blow smooches into the air, pretending not to notice how he staggers dramatically, catching them before walking into the bathroom and sloughing the filth of travel, and Naval ship showers off your skin. You take your time in the shower, exfoliating and shaving every inch of your skin while deep conditioning your hair. You step out of your bathroom, garbed in a soft fluffy robe with your hair finally in fluffy soft waves down your back.

“Hey, Jay?” You yell out your bedroom door. “Where are we going for dinner?”

“How do you feel about tacos? Wear something casual. And for god’s sake, not your uniform. Give that a break until you need to wear it again on Monday.” You can hear a football game from your living room and are glad he wasn’t bored while you spent an inordinately long time in the shower.

“Kay!” You chirp back, going through your closet and fishing out one of the sundresses you’d left in San Diego the last time you shipped out. It’s a flirty number with a flared skirt covered in a raucous floral print. It’s perfect for a summer night out with your best friend. You pair it with a set of cork espadrilles and throw your hair into a fishtail braid before flouncing out the door with your phone and wallet in a little bag.

The both of you are stuffing your faces at this little Taqueria downtown with the best tacos you've had since you were in Mexico when Jake picks up the catch-up conversation again.

"So?" He's grinning, his eyes glinting mischievously as he asks, "Did you find them? Did you find your soul?"

"No. There hasn't been a single person I've met who I've felt drawn to."

"Are you sure you didn't just hide away from the whole world like you do when you get all shy, Tinkie?"

"Urgh…. Fuck you. Not everyone has known their soulmate since they were fourteen years old." You steal a bite of his barbacoa tacos in compensation for that uncalled-for comment.

"Fair enough." Jake crumbles his napkin up after eating his last taco in two bites. He takes a long draft from the bottle in his hand. "What marks do you have again?"

"I have five." You glare playfully at his wolf whistle. "A scent: Sandalwood, a few features: auburn hair, whiskey eyes, and big calloused hands, a song: Tramp by Otis Redding; and an occupation and an important item. I'm not sure which is which. I have fighter jets and an antique blue truck."

Jake's thoughtful as you number each mark on your fingers, lips pursing with each item until you reach the last.

"And, what, Tink, would you say if I tell you that I might know exactly who your soulmate is?"

"I mean… I already promised to love you forever the day I met you. And I apologized to Javy for that, so what more could you need?"

"You buying my drinks at the Hard Deck every time we're both there for a month."

"Deal. Are we heading there now?"

"Yup. It'll give you a chance to meet the squadron you're working with and meet who I think is your soulmate."

You can feel butterflies and excitement swarming in your chest. This feels like everything you've been waiting for. Are you really going to meet your soul tonight? You'll happily pay for Jake's drinks for the rest of your life to pay him back for this if he's right.

You can already see yourself falling head over heels for your soul. It’s your dream to start a relationship with your soul and become better people together. You can also see yourself growing round with your soul's children, his ring on your finger. And you can only imagine how amazing it will be to spend those late-night feedings exhausted but so in love with each other and the babies you brought to life together. Finally, you can see the two of you growing old together and watching proudly as your babies grow into gorgeous adults. And you can see yourself sitting in twin rocking chairs in the house that became a home for you both, with your children and grandchildren arrayed around you.

The sweet ache of your dreams intensifies as Jake chivalrously leads you into the bar. It's packed in the Hard Deck, despite being only a little past 8 o’clock. You're craning your head to see if you can spot anyone you know or recognize. You can feel a sense of anticipation sink into your veins. Tonight more than ever, you feel like your soul is nearby. You’re thankful for Jake’s broad frame as he charts a course directly to the bar where a familiar face is holding court.

"Well, well, well, look at you, Missy! Long time no see, gorgeous!" She still sounds the same as she did three years ago. If anything, she’s lighter and happier than the last time you saw her.

"Penny!" You stretch over the bartop to hug the older woman. Penny was like a mom to you the last time you were on North Island. "Can I get you your usual?"

"Yes, please!" You yell back, straining your vocal cords to be heard. Your drink is prepared in short order, and you grin approvingly as you take a sip.

"Let's catch up later?" You mouth over the crowd, smiling at her signal for a-ok before following Jake towards a rowdy bunch near the pool tables. He's already trash-talking the players, and you elbow him in the gut to remind him you're there.

"Lady and gents, this is Tinkerbell. She just got into town today and will be stationed with us at North Island for a while." He winces and rubs at his stomach before pointing each squadron member out to you by callsign.

"It's nice to meet you all!" It's no time before you chat with Jake's squadron like you've known them forever. It helps that Javy is there, and you can squish your best friend's soul in a ridiculously long hug. It's never been this easy to talk to a squadron whose planes you'll be working on before. Your drink runs out far sooner than expected, and you fight back to the bar for a refill.

You're humming tunelessly and trying to avoid being crushed when a hand smacks down onto the bartop next to you. A body follows it, and you're automatically preparing to fend off whatever flirty bullshit this stranger will lay on you.

"That's a fantastic song."

Okay, that's not what you were expecting. You turn your head and see dark eyes and curls like in your soul mark. He's wearing an obnoxiously loud Hawaiian shirt and has a mustache from an eighties porn flick. But his voice? You could melt into a pool of primordial goop just at the feeling of his voice in your eardrums. And he likes your song clue too. You're not doing it any justice, but he'd still heard and recognized it.

"Yeah, it is. I heard it a long time ago."

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a Navy bar?" He’s smirking now. There's the flirting you expected. You can’t help your eye roll as he tries and fails to charm you.

"I'm out with some friends. Came up to the bar to get a refill on my drink."

"Hey, Bradley!" It's Penny again. So she knows this guy. Maybe he's not a creep.

"Hey, Pen. I'll take a beer and whatever this pretty girlie drinks on my tab."

"Pen, I'll take my drink on my tab. Thank you very much," is your quick rejoinder.

He lifts his hands to placate you before going back to standing stylishly against the bar. You can feel his eyes on you as you order your refill, and you're constantly self-conscious of every word pouring out of your mouth. And speaking of your mouth, is your lipstick smeared out of place? You've just ascertained that everything looks good in a napkin holder when things get frantic in the bar.

There's yelling and screaming, but no matter how you search, you can’t see what is happening. Soon, Penny's ringing the bell, and the crowd surges around you. When you’re sure you’ll get trampled in the rush, hands are on your waist, helping you until you're perched on a barstool. The stranger leaves his hands on your waist for several long moments. You're barely breathing. With each shallow breath you take, you can feel the heat of his big hands searing into your skin. You can see the flashes of gold in his whiskey eyes this close to him.

The intense urge to kiss him surprises you. Your mark containing your soul's physical features and song is checked off, but you're still unsure if he's your soul. But you desperately want to kiss this cocky, gorgeous stranger. You feel this intense ache to feel his mustache press against your skin and numb your lips as he kisses you wantonly, urgently. More than your neck and lips, you want to know what his mouth feels like against your cunt. How that mustache would feel against your tender flesh as you scream for his talented tongue. Those hands propped so innocently against your waist? You want them everywhere too.

You're shaken out of your reverie by the crowd's repeated chanting of 'Overboard'. And then the hands clasped around your waist withdraw. Just as you're about to say something, anything to hear that beautiful voice again, you hear Jake calling for you. You wave to catch his attention. Jake comes bounding up just as you hop down from the stool.

"Hey, Tink. Are you alright?" He pulls you into a tight hug, and you'd accuse him of being smothering had you not known how much he cares.

"I just saw the crowd rush the bar, and Phoenix said you'd come for another drink." You can see the worry on his face as he finally releases you and steps back.

"Yeah, I nearly was. But this guy saved me. He hauled me onto a barstool and kept me from getting jostled there until the chaos died." You turn in place to thank the stranger for his help, but he's not there anymore. "I wonder where he went? I wanted to buy him a drink to thank him." Your drink stands on the bar top, but the beer he ordered? It’s gone, leaving only a ring of condensation on the wood.

"I have one more member of the squadron for you to meet. C'mon. Grab your drink and follow me." Jake's vibrating out of his skin. You haven't seen him this excited since he introduced you to Javy as his soulmate, not just his wingman.

He pushes you by the shoulders to the pool tables again, keeping up a stream of funny stories that make you giggle. That’s when your heart seems to start beating in double time. A familiar broad-shouldered silhouette is propped up against one of the pool tables, a beer held languidly in two fingers of one big hand as he laughs.

Jake pushes you towards the pool tables, and when he's determined you're close enough, he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"Oi, Rooster. This here is Tinkerbell. She will be working with the squadron as one of the Aviation Maintenance Duty Officers. Tink, this is Rooster, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."

"We met earlier. Thanks for the save back there when things got crazy."

The warmth in Bradley's eyes at the bar seems to have completely drained away. He's not smiling anymore and definitely not flirting when he responds, "Good to meet you." gruffly back at you.

The hope you felt at the song and his eyes, hair, and hands sinks like a lead balloon. An awkward silence falls over the pool table, punctuated only by the low clicking as the Jukebox switches the song playing. You’re more than a little taken aback. Bradley Bradshaw had seemed so nice at the bar. Flirty, sure, but nice. You’d enjoyed the joy sliding effervescent through your veins at each word you spoke. Jake pulls you towards the dart table.

"That's the guy I thought would be your soul. No luck?"

"I thought I felt the spark earlier, but no luck."

You're confused, but ultimately, chalk the electricity you felt to your exhaustion and the heat inside the bar. The rest of the night is easy and light. You're going to have fun working with the Dagger Squadron. And the atmosphere stays that way until you hear Rooster's conversation with Payback and Fanboy as you walk back toward the pool tables after a stop at the restroom.

"So? What do you think of her, Rooster?" It's Payback who asks that.

"Come on. There is no way she's a good Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. She's all over Hangman. What a slut." His voice has a cruel slur as he spits out the words.

"She does seem close to him." That's Fanboy, you think.

"Hah. Even if they're soulmates, I doubt there is a single thought in that little head. I bet she got here on her knees."

They laugh, and that's officially when the night sours for you. The first time you meet Rooster and he's already decided to hate you. You haven't gotten here on your knees. The accusation disgusts you. Why had you come out with Jake tonight? If only Bradley Bradshaw had stayed a handsome stranger. Maybe then you wouldn't feel like your heart was ripped from your chest and stomped on.

You walk towards the bar, thinking about his words. They hurt more than you’d expect, considering how you’ve heard many variations of them before. A particular class of Navy men hates that a woman knows the ins and outs of a plane better than them. You’ve been victim to the nonsense spewing out of those men’s mouths before. And you thought you’d formed a thick skin and knew how to handle it. In hindsight, you should’ve known it would take only one devastatingly handsome man’s ill-thought words to tear down all your inner strength and confidence.

You’re startled out of your thoughts when a drunken sailor nearly knocks you over as you walk. He’s heavy but oh so warm. You look up, wanting to know if the sailor is okay, and see none other than the man you’ve been thinking about for much of the night. Bradley Bradshaw sends the same electricity singing through your veins as he steadies himself with those big hands on your waist yet again.

“Tinkerbell. You okay? I didn’t mean to run into you like that.” He’s drunk. He’s completely and totally drunk. You can smell the beer seeping from his pores and something woodsy and delicate that you can’t place. How can he act like his words didn’t flay you open? You can feel rage course through you at the clumsy way he’s patting you down to ensure you’re alright.

You brush his hands off your person and nearly growl at him, “Why? I’m just another garden-variety slut, right? The only way I got to where I am in my career is on my knees, right? You don't need to apologize if that’s what you think.” Rage and pain sit hot in your chest as you spit his words back to him.

He looks taken aback, something unknown swimming in his eyes as his throat works. But before he can flay you open again, you walk away. You’re thankful now that you’d settled up your tab with Penny before you headed to the restrooms. You're quick to leave after that, the alcohol in your system magnifying your anger and pain until you're lost to it. Outwardly, you smile and say your goodbyes to everyone in the squadron before telling Jake you’ll meet him and Javy in the morning for brunch and book a ride-share home.

You can’t help meditating on what you heard in the car and vow that on Monday, you'll be perfectly professional, even if every time you look at Bradley Bradshaw, you'll feel the pressure and heat of his hands on your waist. That's the part that bothers you about this whole thing. It had felt electric having him that close, at least for you. But there is no way he's your soul, right? He's too much of an asshole for that. Why else would he have said what he said?

Rooster

There is nothing like the feeling of being up in the air, going faster than the speed of sound. Many people work hard for their careers, and he’s had to do that too. But Bradley Bradshaw maintains that he was born to fly. It’s in his blood. After all, his dad, Uncle Mav, and other uncles flew. So it’s no wonder that he’s one of the best of the best. And he’s on an elite squad hand-selected by the Navy to fly those missions that nobody else can. Things are finally looking up. His career is excellent. He’s connected with his Uncles again. He’s part of a squad that works like a well-oiled machine. Only one thing could improve his life: if he weren’t so lonely.

Bradley Bradshaw has always been the life of the party. So why does it hurt nowadays after the party ends and he’s staggering half-drunk into the apartment he’s been given on base? Sure, he’s not lacking companionship. All it takes is a flirty wink, a couple of notes on the piano, and scores of badge bunnies appear ready and willing to drop everything to get into his bed. Getting his dick wet has never been so dull. All those girls flirt the same. They moan the same at the exact same times, and they always, always, always cum the same way.

So sue him. He is over thirty years old, and he's bored with everything in his life except for flying. And even with the squad, they do the same things nearly every night. Most of the squad has found their soulmates. So when they aren’t out with their soulmates, the whole crew is clustered around the pool tables at the Hard Deck. On Saturdays, he heads to the hangar in the desert with Mav to work on the P-51. Sometimes Penny and Amelia are around, sometimes not. And Sunday night is dinner with his Uncles. That's been his life since Mav crashed back into his life with the Uranium Mission. And every workday is full of flying, the high-octane rush of it the only time he feels alive.

It’s a Friday night like any other as he rifles through his closet for a Hawaiian shirt. The squadron had finished their hop debrief for the day and made plans to meet at the Hard Deck at half past 8. It is just about 8:45, and that is typical too. He's always late, and once he’s at the bar, he always downs a beer or two and then plays a few songs on the piano before taking whichever badge bunny catches his fancy home.

At least San Diego never fails to disappoint. It's gorgeous out. Bradley's sunglasses are on, and the wind whips through his hair as he drives his Bronco to the bar. If there's one thing he loves more than flying, it's driving this car. The one his dad left him. It's one of the only places he has left where he can be Bradley Bradshaw, not Rooster or Lieutenant Bradshaw.

There's something funky playing on the radio as he drives up to the Hard Deck, and it lifts his mood just a little. It's that old Otis Redding tune, Tramp, and he can't help the swagger in his hips as he walks into the bar. It's packed tonight, and people are dancing, chatting, and laughing from wall to wall. He can feel a strange electricity in the air, and everything feels different tonight. He can’t place what about the Hard Deck looks different, though. It looks like the same sea of Navy Personnel and badge bunnies, both male and female, milling about with alcohol in hand. Amidst the crush of bodies, he finally grasps something new. There’s a glimpse of brightly patterned fabric against the bar, colorful and flower printed. It’s like sunshine on a cloudy day.

He can feel the stretch of his muscles bunching underneath his jeans as he walks towards the bar. Each stride is nearly smooth, except for the catch in his leg, which broke years ago and still twinges when it’s damp out. It’s several moments before he sees that captivating colorful glimpse, though. It’s a girl, though a woman would be a better descriptor, wearing a floral printed sundress. The bodice clings to her figure, and the skirt is full, flaring out to just below her thigh and revealing miles of supple leg ending in wedge sandals. Her glistening hair looks thick and soft as it lies in a braid, something finicky and delicate that he couldn’t name if he tried. Could this be her? His soulmate? With only two soul marks, there is no way she could be his.

She’s humming. It’s not the most tuneful rendition, but it is instantly recognizable regardless, Otis Redding’s Tramp. Bradley lumbers forward, laying his hand heavily on the bar top beside her while waiting for Penny to make the rounds. His actions get her attention, and he’s at the mercy of big doe eyes as they glance right up at him. But she’s not coy like other girls are when he’s next to them. She looks like she’d do anything besides talk to him.

"That's a fantastic song."

Bradley can see the warring emotions behind those beautiful doe eyes as she tries to figure out how to respond.

"Yeah, it is. I heard it in a dream a long time ago." Her voice is sweet and soft but with a backbone of steel. And those expressive, expressive eyes. He can read exactly what she’s thinking in those eyes.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a Navy bar?”

Her eyes roll, her plush lips pursing and nose crinkling as she realizes he’s flirting.

"I'm out with some friends. Came up to the bar to get a drink."

"Hey, Bradley!" It's Penny who interjects. She must know this pretty girl and feels strongly about protecting her too. Bradley's on the business side of a glare like he hasn't received from her since he was eight years old and being babysat by Penny while his mom was running errands.

"Hey, Pen. I'll take a beer and whatever this pretty girl drinks on my tab."

"Pen, I'll take my drink on my tab. Thank you very much." She's beautiful and quick as a whip. Bradley resolves to stay on her good side. This girl will not accept any free drinks. Bradley lifts his hands placatingly in her direction, taking long glances at the slope of her nose and the shape of her burgundy-stained lips as she gives Penny her drink order, something fruity and sweet.

That's about when things turn upside down in the bar. A fight breaks out at some of the tables. He can barely see the drunken idiots going at it from where he’s propped against the bar. There's yelling and screaming, and Penny quickly rings the bell. The crowd surges around the bar, and he makes an executive decision. He hoists the pretty little thing he's been trying to chat up and plops her down on the bar stool in front of him, using his body as a barrier. She's staring at him in shock now. Those pretty, plush lips are parted just enough for him to glance at her tongue.

He has this sudden intense urge to kiss her, to taste the residue of sugar-laden liquor on that perfect pink-stained mouth and tongue. Bradley wants to do more than kiss her, too. He has a sudden flash of those gorgeous eyes teary as those plush lips wrap around his cock. He wants to feel the weight of her pert breasts in his hands, to make those pretty little hands grasp his hair as she screams his name. He's never felt like this with anyone before. And he finds that he's embarrassingly growing hard just at the thought of her.

Her skin is soft and hot through the thin fabric of her dress as his hands rest in the dip of her waist. Her chest heaves with each shallow breath as she looks at him. He’s just about to tell her his name, ask her what she’s thinking, or do anything to hear another word out of that pretty mouth when the cry of ‘Overboard’ fills the bar. It looks like the men who had been fighting are getting thrown out. That’s when he realizes his hands have been around this girl’s waist for far too long. He steps back with his throat dry as he lifts his hands from around her. He can still feel her against the pads of his fingers as he flexes his hands uselessly at his sides.

The bar is soon back to normal around him. Penny drops off her drink and his beer, and as he grabs his drink and turns back to the pretty girl, he can hear Hangman calling for her. Her eyes are wide with recognition, and she waves at him. So she’s Hangman’s something, though he’s not sure friend is the best term. Bradley slips away just as Hangman reaches her, drawing her into a protective embrace.

The jolt of irritation that shoots through him at the sight is filled with something uncomfortably close to jealousy. He can feel something nasty crawling out his chest at the sight of the sweetest girl he's ever spoken to being swept up in Bagman's arms. The worst part is that she looks like she belongs there. Bagman'd bragged unendingly about his soulmate before. This must be her. It figures that she’s got a soul already. That her soul is Bagman is just salt in another open wound. He takes a swig from the cold bottle in his hand and turns his back on the sight, moving through the crowd to the pool tables. Phoenix and Bob are trouncing Payback and Fanboy in a game of nine-ball, and it’s looking to be just like any other Friday night the squad has had since it became permanent.

He’s brooding, and the squad can no doubt sense the suddenly foul mood seeping from his pores. Outwardly, he's trying, really trying to keep it from showing in his tone. Sure, she's Hangman's. That just means that his soul has to be out there, right? He still remembers the pact he'd made in that hospital bed years ago when he’d gotten his marks. Would his younger self begrudge his need to find the person who's right for him? It's exhausting having to play a part day in and day out. Even with Mav, he can't let his guard down. Bradley’s not even sure when he started looking for his soul in earnest or when the revolving door of girls got stale and boring.

All he knows is that one day he woke up and wanted everything his mom and dad had. He wants happiness like the time before Top Gun when it was just the three Bradshaws and his Uncle Mav. All the light and love and happiness. Neither his mom nor his dad had any family left before they died. He’s it. He’s the last of their lines. And after his close calls over the past few months, he never wants to feel like he’s at the end without a soul who loves him ever again. He just has to find her and hope she can love him despite his life's mess and stress.

Hangman pulls him out of his reverie by pushing his girl toward the rest of them. She grins at him, and he can hear her giggles as Hangman drapes an arm around her shoulder, drawing her into his side.

"Oi, Rooster. This here is Tinkerbell. She will be working with the squadron as one of the Aviation Maintenance Duty Officers. Tink, this is Rooster, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."

"We met earlier. Thanks for the save back there when things got crazy." God, her voice still sounds so good, melodic, and sweet. But, the nasty little voice in his head screams at him, ‘She’s not yours. She’ll never be yours. What about you could a sweet little thing like that want?’. The irritation ever-present since he realized she’s Bagman’s soul colors his tone as he nearly barks, “Good to meet you.” back at her.

He can see a little of the joy shutter in those doe eyes and immediately kicks himself for making her feel that way. An uncomfortable hush surrounds the tables. He can feel eyes on him. Hangman’s, Bob’s, and definitely Phoenix’s. He takes a swig of his beer, but before he can apologize or ease the hush, he’s dragged away by an incandescently incensed firebird.

“What the fuck was that, Bradshaw?” He’s pissed Tasha off. He hadn’t seen her this angry since Hangman left her and Bob behind while they were training for the Uranium Mission.

“I dunno, Tash.”

“Well, you better figure it out. Tinkerbell’s going to be working with us. You don’t fuck with the girl who maintains your plane, birdbrain. Not unless you want to be falling out of the sky.” Bradley can’t argue with her reasoning as she steals his beer and saunters back to the pool tables.

The worst part is that Tinkerbell doesn't even seem to care that she's set his whole world on fire. She's laughing and giggling with Jake and Javy by the dartboard as they take turns covering her eyes and showing her how to throw the dart accurately despite being unable to see. It's a shot he's seen Bagman make about a billion times, but he can't stand seeing their hands on her skin.

For the rest of the night, he's acutely aware of exactly where she is. It's like he's orbiting her, and he makes it a point to stay as far away from her as possible. But no matter what he does, he can’t make the nasty feeling in his chest disappear. Tinkerbell fits in so easily with the rest of the team. She’s laughing with Phoenix and has even pulled Bob out of his shell more gracefully than Hangman had all those months ago. But no matter how he tries, Bradley can’t force himself to be nice to her. So he makes what is probably the worst decision he’s made all night and starts knocking alcohol back. Bradley’s indiscriminate about what he drinks. He does shots of Tequila with Phoenix and then knocks back beers with Fanboy and Bob shortly after.

A few hours after he’s started drinking in earnest later, he’s feeling loose, and that knot in his chest is fading at least a little bit. Payback and Fanboy are laughing in a corner by the windows, and he wants to know what they’re laughing about. It’s a struggle to make his legs move, and he nearly bowls Fanboy over in his clumsy journey to laugh with them.

“Woah, Roos! Man, you’re so drunk!” Fanboy’s always a giggly mess when he’s been drinking. Tonight is no different. He and Fanboy are propped carefully against each other, giggling unendingly when Payback shoves a glass of water into each of their hands. Payback waits until both Fanboy and he have downed the water and sobered up a little before asking his question. "So? What do you think of her, Rooster?"

“Think’a who?” He’s slurring as he speaks, fighting back juvenile giggles as Fanboy makes silly faces next to him.

“Tinkerbell, Bradshaw. Y’know, the girl you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of all night?”

“Oh, her.” Bradley’s so drunk he’s looking for her again. He can’t see her patterned sundress or her pretty hair or her sweet smile or melodic laugh anywhere. But he does see Hangman with his eyes alert, watching for her.

“Bradshaw. What do you think of her?” Payback’s trying to keep his drunken self on track. Bless him.

“She’s beautiful. But, come on. There is no way she's a good Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. She's all over Hangman. What a slut." His voice has a cruel turn as he slurs out the words.

“Aren’t you being a little harsh, man? You don’t even know her. So what if she’s close to Hangman? That doesn’t make her a slut.”

"She does seem close to him." Fanboy is finally tracking a little bit of the conversation.

"Hah. Even if they're soulmates, I doubt there is a single thought in that little head. I bet she got here on her knees." He can feel his sense of balance reel just a little as he turns away.

He staggers through the bar looking for Penny to close out his tab and get more water. That’s when he makes contact with the one person he’s been trying to avoid all night. He nearly bowls her over, too, in his overeager drunken haze.

“Tinkerbell. You okay? I didn’t mean to run into you like that.”

He can't resist dragging his hands up and down her soft waist as he looks into her eyes. Those expressive eyes look hurt and are swimming with barely suppressed tears.

“Why? I’m just another garden variety slut, right? The only way I got to where I am in my career is on my knees, right? You don't need to apologize if that’s what you think.” It hurts hearing that gorgeous voice sound so rough. His hands sting from where she’d slapped them away.

His throat is inexplicably dry again. But Tinkerbell’s gone before he apologizes or says anything to redeem himself. Well, he’s not sure what he would have said anyways. He staggers to the bar, accepts the glass of water Penny hands him, and looks drunkenly at the squadron as they continue to have fun without him. He catches glimpses of Tinkerbell as she says what looks to be her goodbyes and flounces out the door.

“Bradley, hey, kiddo.” When did Penny get here? “D’you want me to call Mav to take you home?”

He can’t find the words to reply, alcohol weighing his tongue as he fights to talk about everything he’s been feeling tonight. Penny must have decided to call Mav anyways because the next thing he sees when he opens his eyes is Mav in front of him. He’s speaking, but it takes a few moments for Bradley to identify what he’s saying.

“Hey, Baby Goose. Penny called me. She said you needed a ride. D’you have your wallet and the keys to the Bronco?”

“Yeah, Mav.” He fishes the keys out and hands them to his uncle. It’s a bit of a struggle to get out the door, and he can’t help babbling at his uncle and one of the only dads he’s ever known as he staggers out the door propped against his shoulder.

“She was so pretty, Mav.”

“Who, Baby Goose?” Mav sounds confused, and Bradley can’t keep the goofy look off his face as he incoherently talks about Tinkerbell and how much he loves how she looks.

“Why do you like her so much, Brad?” Mav’s still trying to make his words make sense, and the more lucid part of Bradley’s brain understands exactly why. “She feels like what you told me it felt like when you met Uncle Ice. And what you told me Dad felt like when he met Mama.” Having a life like his parents, it's all he can think about, even when he’s blazingly drunk.

It’s quiet in the car as Mav drives him back onto the Naval base and towards his off-base quarters. That silence continues until Mav’s gotten him into his apartment and onto his bed. And that’s when the rest of the story spills out of him.

“But she’s Hangman’s, Mav. Why does she feel like she should be mine if she’s Hangman’s?”

“I dunno, Baby Goose.” His uncle’s running his fingers through his hair like he used to when Bradley was a kid and had a nightmare. “Maybe there’s more going on there than you know? Try to get to know her without assuming she’s someone else’s soul. Try to get to know this girl as she is, and maybe you’ll find that she’s what you need when you least expect it.”

“But what if she wants nothing to do with me?” Bradley’s not surprised to hear a tremor in his voice as he asks that one final question. Sleep’s already pulling on every sense as he fights to stay awake.

“Just be yourself, Bradley. And if you’ve truly done so much damage in one night that you can’t get past, then there’s nothing you can do but hope.” That’s the last thing Bradley remembers before he falls asleep, and he hopes he’ll be able to do what his uncle says the next time he sees her.

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