#top gun maverick fanfiction

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x F!Reader | 1|2|4|

Word Count: 4,887

Summary: With weeks of work under your belt, the mission grows near. You are given your assignments and you’re not happy with them. Instead of putting aside your emotions - you let them drive, which makes things far more complicated than the actual mission you need to endure.

Content Warning: This is a successor to the first part, please read that first! ||This story will have TopGun: Maverick plot line elements to it and will possibly spoil the movie for you. Please be aware. This - and all of my stories - is 18+. By continuing to read you agree that you are 18 or older and that any content you come across is by your own decision. 

Author Note: Well, well, well, look what we have here! It’s the next part and honestly one of my favorite parts if you ask me. We’re really getting into the nitty gritty now. I’m having so much fun with y’all I hope you enjoy this part :D

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With the timeline for the mission having been pushed up, it made you that more tense and emphatically stressed. You had two days before Maverick was picking who’d be flying. 

Which is why you’re sitting in the dark in the common room, F-18 manual in your lap. Unable to sleep from nerves, you put the energy towards studying. Studying what? Valid question. You knew the book inside and out, had gone through emergency training, water exercises, you’d had an engine fail on you for cripes sake. Yet, here you are with seven different colored highlighters and a fresh copy of the manual you’d tattooed to your memory. 

Sipping at your (now cold) tea, you highlight the proper section with the corresponding color. You’re about to dig into the gummy bears at your side when you hear someone clearing their throat. Your head shoots up, only to be greeted with a very sleep deprived Bradshaw. Very shirtless… Bradshaw. He’s got a pair of leather sandal flip flops on and some sweatpant style shorts, rubbing at his face.  

“Is this tied to the callsign or… just being weird?” He asks, rolling his wrist to check the time. “Because it’s currently 4:30 in the morning.” Soon, he’s shuffling over to the couch you’ve made home the past four hours, making room by pulling pillows off the cushions. 

“Just… being weird, I guess. I couldn’t sleep.” You admit as he lets all his weight fall to the couch, looking at the book in your hand. Rooster reaches over, taking the manual and then shutting it. You’re about to dispute his actions as he takes it from you, but he’s moving far faster than you can react. A whine leaves you and he looks at you, holding the book up above you with a look that says ‘really?’ 

“Do you remember what Mav said, day one? They’ve got this book memorized just like you do, sweets. That’s not gonna help.” He’s quickly switching the book from one hand to the other, setting it on the other side of the couch. Once there, he’s letting his arm drop around your shoulder, slowly bringing you in, letting you get comfy against him. ”Practice is the best you can do, and you had great exercises this week.” You glance up at him and see his head is resting on the wall behind the couch, eyes closed. He looks exhausted…

“Why are you awake?” You question, shifting to get comfy as you pull a blanket over both of you. 

“I woke up, grabbed a drink and saw the common room light was on. Figured I’d double check that someone wasn’t binging on gummy bears.” You roll your eyes as he speaks, but you also hear the crinkle of the candy wrapper, only for a few of the gummies to make their way to his mouth. 

“Hey.” You whine, which wins you an eye peeking open and looking down at you. He smiles as he chews, pulling you closer. 

“My point is, you’re gonna do just fine.” His hand is now reassuringly making a soothing path up and down your arm, both of you curled up on the couch, reaching to the gummy bear bag every now and then. It’s a few more minutes before you speak again. 

“What if it doesn’t go fine? You heard Admiral Simmons. You need not one but two miracles to pull this off.” The male doesn’t give you an answer. You think he’s sleeping, honestly, but when he shifts you can tell he isn’t. 

“Don’t think. Just do.” Unknown to you, Maverick had told him the same bit of advice, mere hours earlier. As the two of you sit in the common room, he begins to hum a tune, making you smile, closing your own eyes. It’s not long after that he’s patting your arm. “Hey, grab a coat, I’ve got an idea.”

You pick up all your stuff and navigate to your dorm, dropping everything off, grabbing the first jacket you see, a streak of denim blue following you as you make your way to the parking lot again. Once there, Rooster opens your door before jumping in. It doesn’t take him long to find his destination, a parking lot right along the shore, not even off base. It’s the Commander’s Beach, which meant it was for the Navy’s use only. But, he backed into the spot, guided you to the trunk, and curled you both up in blankets just as the orange hue of the sun began to come from the shoreline. You’re laid back on his chest, resting comfortably as you watch the colors transform the sky, the darkness of the night slipping away as the colors melt together. Rooster glances up at the sky every now and then, but he’s solely watching you. Your reactions, how your face breaks out into a smile when you spot dolphins surfacing just off the shore. You’re pointing them out and then looking up at him, finding that he’s looking at you instead. Your joint gaze is held for a while, before he’s initiating a kiss, one that stood out from all the others. Not only was he upside down, giving you a new experience, but he had you in his arms, carefully wrapped around you almost in a protective wall. When he pulls away, he pushes hair from your face, the pad of his thumb lingering over your skin. You give him a small smile before looking back to the sun. His eyes don’t shift away from you. He’s not thinking. He’s just doing what he wants to. And that’s looking at the girl he loves. 

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The night before was always the worst, no matter what was going on. Before leaving for an assignment, before a test, really anything where you didn’t know the outcome? You would be up all night despite preparing in any way you plausibly could. 

So you laid in bed tossing and turning, making mental notes and lists of what you needed to finish packing before you were sent out of the country to board a ship in the middle of the Atlantic. It wasn’t going to be a long stay, well… at least you weren’t planning on it being long. It could easily turn into an eternity on a dime. 

You’re still awake when your alarm goes off, signifying it’s time to move forward. Up and out for the day. Which, you take your time readying yourself. Putting your hair up, getting your things together. As you exit your dorm, Phoenix is quick to your side, grabbing your bicep. “Morning, champ. You ready for this?” Maybe she doesn’t share your nerves. Hell, she seems excited out of all things. Mentally, you’re telling yourself to share in her excitement, yet the pit that’s growing in your stomach reminds you of the gravity of it all. 

“I’m not sure… it just seems like it came so fast.” You suggest, which gets her shrugging. 

“That’s life in the navy I suppose. C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”

The two of you arrive at a very different looking hangar than the first day you had all arrived. There’s no chairs, no whiteboards or projector screens. Not even a lectern. It’s empty. A clean slate. The lights were out, all except one or two toward the front of the building, and the doors were shut, giving a very intimidating feel. One by one, sailors arrived, each of you having something to add to the conversation. Rooster arrived not looking like himself. His head stayed down in thought for most of the time prior towards the looming discussion. All of you were nearly walking on eggshells. Six of you would fly. Six of you would sit on the carrier and wait. Wait and listen. 

When the Admirals arrive, they’re the ones with the first announcement. “Captain Mitchell will be announcing his decisions in a moment. But first, we are here to inform you, that after his impromptu performance of demonstrating the anticipated outcome of this mission - he will be the squadron leader and fly with those chosen. It has been a pleasure overseeing you all. Make our country proud.” Halfway through the announcement, Maverick had snuck in with the hope of staying hidden. As he approaches the group, he seems to look out over the twelve of you. 

“I have had the most incredible privilege of being your instructor these last four weeks. Each of you has a terrific skill set to offer and I have enjoyed watching you each flourish under the most rigid conditions. Before I list the members that will comprise this squadron, I want you each to take a moment to reflect on where you began when you entered this hangar on day one. None of you are the same pilot that you were that day. I would even dare to say that none of you are the same people. I’ve gotten to know each of you and it… has been incredibly difficult knowing that I am sending you into the best challenge of your career but also possibly your final one.” He takes a moment, collecting the best set of words to put together what he was attempting to say. “I… am so proud of the individuals you are. The pilots you are. The people you are. It’s been an honor.” Maverick clears his throat. “When I went through these assignments, I took my time. I contemplated, I looked… at your strengths. Your weaknesses. Your dedication to your team. It took me a damn long time, but.. I am confident in this team. I am confident in each of you.” 

The way he looks over you… it’s calming. Almost as if paying his respects one final time. It’s eerie and simultaneously thrill inducing. 

“Flying on my back in Dagger 2-”

You catch your breath. This is it, the payoff. The hours of studying, the first one at the lecture hall, the countless hours of training, the memorizations and the protocol recitings. This is your position. Your redemption. 

“will be…Rooster.” 

If you weren’t at attention, you’d be having a conniption. An aneurysm. You’d be rioting. And if you didn’t have respect for Maverick - you’d be right on his chest, screaming in his face. Your fingernails are digging so deeply into your palms that you nearly think there’s blood being drawn. 

“Dagger 3 will be Moonshine and Payback. Following on all of our tails will be Phoenix and Bob.” He gives a nod that is reciprocated by each of you. “Those of you who are flying, take care of yourselves the next few days. Get good rest. Those of you who will be on deck - same goes to you.” A nod from all of you before Maverick gets a wild smirk on his features. “This has been your captain speaking. Thank you for flying with us.” 

When you are released, you’re making a beeline to your dorm. With the rest of the day free to do as you please, you’re going to finish packing and get the hell away from base. You needed a release and a way to just forget this for now. So you go to your dorm, keep the door shut and blast your music as loud as physically possible while also not being a hindrance to those around you. It’s so loud that you barely register the knock on your door. You throw the door open only to be met with Rooster looking at you with a grin. 

“Phoenix and crew are headed to Hard Deck for one last round of pool and beer before we head out tomorrow, I was wondering… are you packing?” The original statement gets lost when he recognizes the bags that have piled up on your bed. He’s leaning against the doorframe, already out of his issued uniform, in standard fashion of a vest, a Hawaiian shirt and aviators on top of his head. You had turned away from the door the second it was open, a quick roll of your eyes at his mischievous grin, quickly resuming your task of folding things somewhat sloppily, trying to complete the task with speed.

“Yes, I’m packing.” Short, simple and to the point - hopefully, he takes the hint.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that later, c’mon, Bob was even going to do a shot or two.” There’s humor in his statement, a smirk on his face as he speaks. Rooster takes a step further into your room, making you stop and turn toward him. 

“I want to get packed and the hell out of here. So if you wouldn’t mind.” You’re about to move past him toward your ensuite bathroom when he cuts your path off, forcing you to freeze in front of him.

“Okay, what the hell is your deal? We’re about to go on this huge mission and want one more day before we get shipped out and you’re in here packing like you’re going to fucking Disney World.” Each word is sharp, a sense of offense in his tone, as though he was contagious and that was the reason you were making haste.

“Well that’s certainly what it is to you, now isn’t it?” You snap so quickly, not even sure where the stinging venom in your voice is coming from. Your attitude is soon being reflected right back at you as though you were staring in a mirror. 

“Ohthat’swhat this is about??” In rapid succession, Rooster is boomeranging the same attitude back to you. “Moon, you heard what Mav said, he went through hours to plan that out, it’s not a ranking.” He tries to console you on it, stepping forward toward you, an outstretched hand in your direction. However, you shrink away from him, avoiding his touch.

“No, no, it’s most definitely a ranking. One that I was working my ass off to try to top again, yet there he is in all his glory: Rooster Bradshaw everyone. Do you even know-” You speak mockingly and witness frustrating building as a hand pulls itself into a fist before he interrupts you. 

“It’s just a ranking, seriously, I’m rather certain there is far bigger fish to fry here-”

“I thought it wasn’t a ranking?? So which one is it, because I’m getting mixed signals here. If they are rankings-” You ignore Rooster’s groan as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“God, you are making this so difficult! Just let it go, alright? C’mon, we’ll get a drink and we can all forget about it. It’s really not a big deal-” Once more, he’s trying to grab your hand, making contact which forces you to wrench it out of his grip.

“Let it go? Like the last time I ended up second to you?!” You whine, throwing your hands up and turning to grab your open bag, shifting it on the bed - doing something aside from having to look at him. “Phoenix was right I -”

“What was she right about?” His tone is firm, irritated, and hoarse. “Huh? Please show me the light, because clearly she knows so much more than either of us.” Rooster’s gaze on you stays firm, his jaw clenching as he waits for a response from you.

Finally you’re snapping at him, unable to dance around it. “As if you didn’t know what game you were playing. From day one you’ve been planning it, trying to distract me again so that you could come out -” 

“Distract you??” His voice bellows over yours, drowning out your attempts to speak. “ If I wanted to distract you I would’ve been a whole lot fucking more forward, I think I can tell you that much!” 

You’re starting to grab more things from your dresser in a feeble attempt to avoid looking at him. The last thing you want to do is see him, yet here he stands in your bedroom. He’s scoffing, a hand running through his hair as you turn to face him. 

“I can’t believe you’re seeing this as a bad thing, Moon. Youwere chosen out of the top candidates in the last five years - one of twelveairmen. One of two women in a very small group of individuals, and to top it off you were placed SECONDto them. Out of the twelve which is a like - like - like zero point seven something or some shit. You worked overtime to get here. Absolutely busted your ass, so you acting like -”

“Acting like what?? Like a fool? ‘Cause that’s exactlyhow I feel right now-”

Exhausted, Rooster pushes fingers through his hair, gripping the ends of them with exasperation before releasing them, letting a few strands drift across his forehead. “Why the hell would you feel like a fool?? It’s not like you-”

“You’re not even listening to me! I can’t get more than two words in-” 

“Because there’s nothing to listen to!! You should be so proud of yourself and you’re acting as though this is the worst thing in the world-”

“It fucking feels like it!! I wanted your spot! I wanted to be at the head of it all, I worked my ass off, and you trickedme and pulled me away-” There’s a weak attempt to voice your concerns, yet he doesn’t give you the opportunity.

“I didn’t pull you away from anything! You were the one who insisted we try to get along-”

“For the sake of our jobs!!You’re the one that kissed me! As if thatwasn’t going to fuck with my head-”

The brown haired pilot is nearly screaming over top of you now. “Well sorry!! Is that what you want?? Sorry that I kissed you? Sorry that I showed you attention and some civility as we march towards what might be our deaths?? I don’t know what you want-”

“I want Dagger 2 and I can’t have it!! You know that! That’s allI’ve wanted the whole-”

“Enough,enough! I’m tired of this! You’re too in your head, Moon! This is sucha big deal and you’re not looking at it that way, I don’t know whyyou can’t see that! You should be so damn proud of getting here-”

“Oh, so you’re my dadnow?? Is that what this is?!”

It’s suddenly quiet.

All the energy from your voices has filled the room, making the air thick as he recoils, stepping back. Rooster’s face is tight, an emotion you can’t place fills it, leaving him frozen. 

“Roost, I-”

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant.” He avoids your face as he turns to the door. With the way he grips the handle, you could have sworn he was going to rip it right off its hinges. Following him, you step into the hallway even though he’s already halfway down it.

“Rooster, I’m sorry, please- Rooster!” You try again, but all you hear are his firm steps, each of them echoing in the hall. “Bradley!” One last try, only to watch him disappear out the door into the sunlight that spills over the base.

After everything you’d both done to get to a common ground, to be able to work with one another without being absolutely repulsed at each other - it had suddenly vaporized into the air while the two of you argued.

It’s easy to hear the words repeat themselves in your head, despite the hustle of the airport around you. You didn’t fly commercially that often, since most times the Navy would get you a seat on one of the commercial charters and you’d get around that way. But this was different, you were headed out of the country, on a one way ticket. Once you’d landed you’d sit and wait for one of the pilots on-deck of the carrier to come and collect you, and then you’d be in the middle of the ocean, ready for what might be your final flight. 

Someone pulls you out of your thoughts, making you tug off your headphones in the most unprofessional manner. “Sorry to bother you, we just wanted to thank you for your service. God bless you.” You give them a nod and smile in response before you’re sliding your headphones back on. You’re rarely in your Service Whites - save for Admiral Kazansky’s funeral - especially while traveling, but this is different. 

It’s making you stand out more than you’d like to, interruptions happening every so often, being pointed at by young children and having their parents scold them - it makes you uneasy. It’s the last thing you should be feeling right now. What you should be feeling is long gone. Confidence, honor, dignity…

Pride. 

You can hear his voice saying it. It makes you shiver, causing you shift in an attempt to readjust yourself, something you’ve already had to do multiple times in this uniform. It’s stiff and it’s not the most comfortable thing, primarily because it’s tight to your skin. There’s nothing you wanted more than a huge sweatshirt and leggings right now. 

Boarding the plane first was also such an odd standard of practice, yet you do so. And as you sit while everyone else boards, you continue to get thank yous and words of encouragement. Not that any of them resonated. These were strangers, many of them thanking you out of obligations that society had instilled. To make matters worse, the flight attendant decides to highlight the ‘military service member on board’. If you could hide in the checked baggage compartment you would happily do so. Anything had to be better than this.

The flight is long and you still can’t sleep. Primarily since training had accustomed you to feeling awake when you felt an active engine - which you most definitely could through the floor of the cabin. With little sleep and more nerves than when you started the trip with, the plane lands and you’re quickly getting off of it. Your phone comes to life with text messages from a familiar name. You smile as you read it over. 

‘Hey Sailor, I heard there were big things in store for you. Some of the very best pilots are with you - which includes yourself. Don’t doubt your skills. I can’t imagine how nerve wracking going away must be so I am sending you all my luck. Come back home soon.’ 

Natalie always seemed to have impeccable timing. 

‘Hey stranger, just landed. Haven’t been able to sleep. Some of the best pilots indeed. Some *very* familiar faces too.’ 

‘Oh shut up, is he there?’

‘Not actively but he’s in the squadron, yes.’

‘I’m sure that’s been fun.’ 

You know she means it as a jab at Rooster, but honestly… the last few weeks hadbeen fun. Growing closer with the team, with Maverick - finally getting along with Rooster… it had all been rather gratifying. It’s idiotic when you think about it. 

Even if Rooster had been distracting you, you’d enjoyed every minute of his distractions. You’d grown fond of being around him which was such a crazy change from when you’d initially returned to Miramar. When seeing him made your blood boil, where now when you saw him your skin was on fire. Any time he was close you felt so strangely at home, so reassured…

You needed to apologize. As soon as you could. 

The hours of lead up to this mission left you nearly following him like a lost stray. You would track him down to his location on the ship and when you did find him, he’d turn the other way. Mealtimes you’d sit at his table, just for him to get up. He was rarely in the gym, probably because he knew you’d be looking for him. When all other avenues had failed, you’d tried to ask Bob or Coyote - hell you’d even stooped so low as to ask Hangman for help. All of them gave you the same answer: he wasn’t listening. 

So when you climbed into your bunk the night before the mission, you laid down with defeat and nerves blazing. Hours felt like minutes as you imagined every possible scenario that could occur tomorrow. You were directly putting a team of six into the fire with hopes they weren’t flammable. No fire alarms, no extinguishers - facing the heat dead on. Before you can even register how much time has passed since you crawled under the sheets, your alarm is going off, forcing you to grab the device and silence it before it wakes up your bunk mates. 

Getting dressed, you’re up and attempting to prepare yourself. Yet, when you look in the mirror, you’re far from ready. Your hair is all over the place, the normal pristine hairstyle you’ve been doing for years is gone, instead, it’s a mess of an attempt at a ponytail. You can’t put yourself together. You had to retie your boots nearly four times and lost your name badge in between the time of going to bed and getting out of it. Your nerves had you all sorts of frayed like a wire. 

You needed a level head, you didn’t want to bother anyone else who was also flying, but you really needed the advice. So, somewhat shakily, you’re knocking on the private quarters door. When the door squeaks open, you find Maverick still in his sleep shirt and boxers. “Moonshine? We’re not meant to be up on deck for like-” He pauses and rapidly looks to his watch, almost wondering if he’s overslept.

“We still have two hours. I just.. Needed to talk.” Maverick nods and holds up a finger. 

“Alright, ‘kay, gimme like.. A minute. We can go get coffee.” He’s clearly not used to being up this early - that much was clear. There’s not windows in this hallway, but you can tell his room was still pitch black thanks to the early hour. He shuts the door and is quickly moving to dress. Soon enough, he’s on his way out to the mess hall where a coffee shop stood. He orders his usual coffee, but leaves the order ticket open so you can order. You weren’t sure you could eat anything, but you order a coffee anyway - hoping it would help. 

Once your cups are in hand, the two of you grab a seat, Maverick sipping at his desperately seeking the caffeine. “Okay, kid. What’s going on?” With a sigh, you’re trying to get out the words. 

“I- well, there’s a lot more to it than just this but- I don’t think I can fly.” You nervously look at him, yet he’s looking at you like you told him the sky was blue. With a slow sip, he puts his cup down. 

“And why’s that, Shiner?” He’s unimpressed, and you begin to ramble. 

“I haven’t slept, Maverick, I haven’t been able to eat, I barely could get dressed this morning, I haven’t had caffeine until now and my hands are shaking - I don’t even know how to start the damn plane if you’d asked me right now, I’m just panicking and scared-”

“There it is.” He has a pointed finger in your direction, cutting you off. His gaze meets yours, holding his cup with both hands as it sits on the table. “You are scared. And that is beyond logical. You’re about to do something that could possibly get you killed. It’s not an easy feeling and from what I know… there’s no real solution.” You shrink at this admission. 

“I- but Ma-Captain,” you’re switching his name as you see a higher ranking officer walk by, “how the hell do you expect me to fly a jet properly when I’m terrified?”

“You’d be surprised.” This confuses you. “Fear can make you do incredible things.” It’s then that he’s reaching out and taking your hand. “I think you have what it takes to do this, Moonshine. You’re here because I know you have the skills, the reaction time and the wherewithal to get through this.” You shake your head, beginning to disagree:

“I wasn’t good enough for Dagger 2, how on earth would I be good enough for this eith-”

Maverick’s turn to cut you off. “You think you weren’t good enough for Dagger 2? No, no, kid, I chose you for Dagger 3 for a reason. I thought you would be able to hit the target, no matter where it was.” He’s using his coffee cup and his hands to talk as he launches into his explanation. “If both Rooster and I miss this target, you are the last line to have the chance to hit it before Phoenix can take her shot. If we fail, you are the onlyperson who can ensure we have a chance to get below ground. You’re in Dagger 3 because I have fullconfidence in your shooting skills.” A wave of clarity floods over you at his words. 

You hadn’t come second. You’d came first. Before Maverick. You’d been given the most difficult position. While you were the fallback, you were the last line of defense. If everything went wrong, they were relying on you. 

“Oh my god.” You scoff in surprise, a hand moving to your forehead. It’s a mixture of pure shock, and heavy realization. 

You’d fought with Rooster - for no reason. And he wouldn’t talk to you, wouldn’t even let you get a message to him.

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Picking up the nearest pillow you’re forcefully throwing it in his direction, which he catches just before it hits a nearby lamp. “I can’t fucking do this anymore Bradley. I just - I can’t.” Your voice is broken, eyes riddled with tears.

“Baby…” he isn’t going to beg. This isn’t the first time the silent discussions between the two of you at occurred. You knew it was happening the minute he pulled his navy issued duffel from the closet.

“If you’re packing then so am I.” There’s gravity to your words. Both of you know what you mean. “All we can seem to get right is the hours spent in our bed.“ As you’re speaking you’re starting to the closet, grabbing a suitcase and making haste for your bedroom.

Bradley simply follows you, a forlorn look on his face as you begin shoving things into your bag with hot tears down your face. You stay quiet now, playing back every other time you’d fought him on this. Every time the bag would come down and the assignment would take you from him.

Your resolve falls when he slips his arms around your middle from behind you, a kiss to your neck as you let the tears consume you. “If you’re leaving… lets be right one more time.” He’s slowly begun a sway with you, your hands resting on his. The reality is - this is over. Both of you are all too aware of that.

“That’s all I ask, honey. I won’t stop you if you want to go. Just give me a kiss before you do?” He tries once again, only before he’s slowly beginning to turn you around by the waist, his eyes finding yours. The grip on your body strengthens as he adjusts his hand, slowly pulling you even closer. You find yourself locked in, unable to slip out even if you wanted to.

As his head dips to greet your lips with his, you certainly don’t want to go anywhere.

————

Have a peek of where my mind is as of late. Important: this is NOT Moon and Rooster from Crossfire. Just a little side thing I’m playing with.