Bradley Bradshaw (Rooster) x Reader

Chapter 2-Show Me What You're Made Of

The sun. A great big ball of gas and fire. A star, something beautiful that provides us with the right climate for human life, something that could end us in an instant, something that scorches our skin on summer days, something we bathe in on the beach to give our skin a 'healthy glow.' 

Unfathomable energy and power sitting just over eight minutes away- if you can travel at the speed of light that is. 

It can both blind you and light the way. 

A weapon that can easily be turned against you. Or that you can use to your advantage when you're up there, above the luminous ocean of clouds.

Mornings are always difficult. 

My alarm blares at the crack of dawn as the fiery orange light peers through the gap in my curtains. A violation if you ask me. 

It's an ungodly hour to be awake but I dug the grave, I have to lie in it. 

I peel myself from my warm sheets after a short internal argument and force my heavy body into the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

After what feels like an eternity (but was probably closer to twenty minutes), I pull on my heavy leather boots, jog out the door to my bike, throw on my jacket and speed off into the horizon, hair flowing- just kidding. It's like 6Am, no one looks good this early in the morning. 

I make my way to the pristine base, filled with stunning machinery.

My element.

I approach the large door and park quickly before entering. I take my seat along alongside the other aviators, facing an unnecessarily large flag. 

We all sit, muttering to each other. Hangman doing his best to be intimidating but consequently  reinforcing the idea that he's a prick in all of our minds. 

After five or so minutes Vice Admiral "Cyclone" steps behind the small podium to address us. He gives a short speech before introducing the one and only "Maverick."

Hangman facepalms as Maverick walks between the columns of seats. As I seem to recall, he was fleeced at the bar last night after Penny (the gorgeous woman behind the bar, as mentioned) rang the infamous bell- meaning Mav had to buy us all a round.  This soon led to his card being rejected. Hangman and a couple of others physically lifted and  threw him out. 

Tradition? Yes. Disrespectful? Also yes.

Karma's a bitch Hangman. 

I smirk to myself and glance around further, only to be met by a slight look of discomfort on Rooster's face. I can't imagine why. 

He flew on a mission alongside Uncle Ice back in the 80's. In fact, he was his wingman.

With real life experience in a dogfight where they were massively outnumbered, he's possibly the best qualified person to teach us for the mission ahead. 

I whip my head to the front as Captain Mitchell begins to speak, lifting a hefty pile of textbooks.

"I'm assuming you all know these cover to cover?" He questions, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. 

"Damn right." Payback announces confidently, a stoic expression on his face.

"Good. So does the enemy," Maverick lifts the books once more before throwing them down into a small bucket beside him.

"Today is gonna be about what you can do. I want to show me what you're made of. Because out there, it's about the pilot in the box. The enemy knows what you know. It's how you use it. Go get your flight gear on. First up, Rooster, Fanboy and Payback. Good luck."