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ohtobeleah · 7 months

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Battle Scars // Bob Floyd

-> An Official Flight Deck Blurb

Summary: Robert Floyd doesn’t take his shirt off at the beach. But when the shirt stays on during sex? You start to wonder what he’s hiding.

Warnings: Mentions of parental Abuse. Mentions of Child Neglect. Foster Care Systems. Mentions of family trauma. Bob Floyd x Female!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author Note: Day Nine of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: ‘Scar reveal’ Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

People have secrets they keep close to their chest. Some are small enough to not cause a ripple effect onto others, and some are big enough to destroy lives, crush dreams, alter realities.

Bob Floyd wore his secrets across his chest. Scars that made his torso look like the Rocky Mountains. Littered with small to medium size scars that healed wrong, healed over, or healed with anger.

They weren’t pretty. If anything he wore a roadmap of abuse on his body that was hard to face in the mirror every morning. He never wanted to subject anyone to the sight of his scars, some red and raised, others faded but turned a deep purple in the cold.

“Mornin’ gorgeous—“ Bob's morning voice was something you’d never get tired of hearing. Those lazy Sunday mornings where you’d wake up to find the Naval Aviator already awake and reading whatever book he brought with him in his overnight bag were starting to become your favourite thing. “How’d you sleep mama?”

“Like a log.” You yawned, creeping closer and closer to where Bob sat on the opposite side of your bed. His T-shirt clad back pressed up against the headboard while his legs stayed covered by the sheets and covers of your warm, inviting bed. “I thought I had an early body clock.” Being a single mum and small business owner left little to no time for sleep-ins, which usually meant you were up before the sun got a chance to kiss the horizon good morning. “But here you are, Mr Military Man with your internalised alarm system.”

Bob couldn’t help but to chuckle as he closed his book and placed it on the bedside table you cleared just for him. Whatever this was between you and Robert Floyd you really liked it. He was the first man you’d ever paid attention to since your fiancé died. Bob was like a breath of fresh air and so was North Island. No one knew you, no one judged you, no one cared about the demons that haunted you.

“Force of habit I guess.” He shrugged before he sunk lower and lower, meeting your eyeline once again as you both settled in under the warmth of the covers. “How long do you think we have before Oliver wakes up?”

“Hmmm—“ You tried to hide your eagerness through a hum that kept your lips pressed together in a fine line. “He knows Sundays are bacon and egg roll mornings.” You began as your arms wrapped around Bob's shoulders.

His lips were hot against the supple skin of the juncture of your neck, in response your body ignited, sending waves of energy through your body that only Bob could create. He was just different.

“So like, five? Ten minutes maybe?” Bob looked up from where he’d been leaving small

but affectionate kisses against your collarbone and met you with a lust filled gaze. He was falling head over heels in love with you. “Because I only need like two—“

“Oh well in that case we have time for two rounds.” You teased before rolling yourself up and over to straddle Bob's waist. He let you easily. If he wanted to, he could have fought back. The thing with Robert Floyd was that he had a sleeper build. He wasn’t as buff as some of the other Naval Aviators that frequently stopped by the Flight Deck for their morning or mid afternoon caffeine hit. With the amount of sugar and caramel syrup you dosed Hangman with on a regular basis you weren’t entirely sure how he managed to maintain his muscle density.

But for as much as Bob was a gentle soul, he was strong and fast. He enjoyed a long run every now and again. But for all intents and purposes—he let you be on top. He liked the view. After all, he was just a simple man. Boobs were pretty cool. Especially your boobs.

“Can I ask you a question?” You cooed all the while Bob's hands trailed up your hips. You wore nothing but one of those silk nightgowns that made you look like an angel. The bed hair was cute, Bob liked you first thing in the morning. It was a side of you only he got to see. The side before the makeup, before being put together– he liked it. The authenticity. For what it was worth, Bob just really liked you.

“Depends what the question is?” Bob replied as his hands squeezed at your hips, rolling you gently back and forth over his boxer brief clad length. “I’m kidding, ask away.”

He had been expecting the question sooner rather than later. And with how things were going between the two of you Bob knew he would have to come clean. He was just afraid of what you might say. What you might think, and if his scars would be a deal breaker. They were, after all, a part of him that he couldn’t get rid of.

But even expecting the question to come didn’t make it any less hard to hear.

“How come you never take your shirt off?” You wanted to approach the question as politely as possible. “You don’t have to tell me, if you aren’t comfortable, I just—I’ve just noticed.” You saw the hesitation in Bob's baby blue eyes as he searched your face for any kind or fear. “Again, you don’t have to tell me.” You reminded the man lying beneath you as his hands stilled on your hips. “But I want you to know that if you’re hiding some sort of third nipple under there—I’m all for it.” You tried to make the conversation a little more lighthearted, Bob could appreciate that. He smiled softly at you while his hands needed at your hips like dough.

Bob didn’t say much after that, he simply laid beneath you stroking his hands up and down your exposed thighs as his mind ran rampant with memories. He hated his scars, but most of all he hated the people who gave them to him.

“You’re a waste of space!” The memories were all too prominent even after all these years. “I wish I never gave birth to you!” His mothers words were as cruel as she was violent and unpredictable.

“You’re the abortion I wish I fucking had.” The abuse Bob endured went with him everywhere, even well into his adult life. He learned not to complain, to cause a scene. “Stop crying for fucks sake kid.” He learned not to show emotion when it wasn’t asked or needed.

“You did this to yourself, if you had stayed out of the way, none of this would be happening.” But most importantly he blamed himself, for hiding his scars that clearly showed how strong he really was.

Bob sat up to meet your eyeline. For a man haunted by so many scars he certainly had the softest of eyes. He gently tucked your hair behind your ear and placed a fleeting kiss against your forehead, all before he reached up and over to take his shirt off over his head.

What you saw rendered you speechless for a few moments as you took in the terrain that was your, well, you wanted to say boyfriend but Bob wasn’t even officially that, torso—littered with scars he surely would have called ugly on the best of days.

“It’s a lot.” Bob whispered just barely above an audible level as he chucked his shirt off to the side. “But they’re not going away, ever.” It was almost as if Bob had struggled with that notion himself. He wished he could have them removed—expunge from his record. The tales of parental abuse he suffered before collecting more in the foster care system.

“Oh Bob—“ You tentatively reach out to glide your fingers over one of the many scars that were angry, red and what seemed to be risen. “You don’t have to hide these from me, ever.” Bob's heart was racing a million miles inside his chest, no one had ever touched him the way you were now. With so much love, with kindness, with understanding. “What happened here?” Your fingers gently glided across the scar down near the waistband of Bob's boxers. Right above his hip bone.

“One of the kids in one of the foster homes I was in.” Bob began, you could tell he was uncomfortable talking about it, but you didn’t stop him. You knew if anything he would stop if he didn’t want to talk about it. “I think his name was Ryan, had an old bow with those barbed edges on it.” You knew where the story was going. “It got wedged in there deep when we were playing around, but our foster parents didn’t have insurance, so they weren’t gonna take me to get it removed—so they ripped it out and poured bourbon over it.” Your heart sank into your stomach. “I was nine.”

“That must have hurt a lot.” You replied gently as Bob laid back down in your bed with his hands resting behind his head. His roadmap of scars on full display. “What happened here?” You moved your hand to the longer scar across his left peck. It seemed less angry, more healed, but the story attached was just as heartbreaking.

“When I was eighteen I went back to see my parents.” Bob's eyes were tearing up. He hadn’t ever spoken about this to anyone. Not even the people he trusted with his life. You were the only one. “It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have, but I needed some closure.” Your fingers gently ran the expanse of the scar that had never been touched but another person. Bob wanted to stop you out of fear you’d leave—but he willed you to continue because it felt comforting to be touched with such warmth. “My dad ran at me with a knife the second he saw me—I remember he was rambling on about how I broke my mum's heart when I went with CPS. I’m lucky it was only a graze, he still got me good enough to leave a scar though.”

“Bob, honey, I don’t even know what to say.” You were a mother yourself. You couldn’t ever imagine doing anything of the sort to your son. Bob reached up to guide your hand across his torso to his wrist—you’d seen those small circle cluster scars time and time again but never bothered to ask what they were from.

“These are from where my mum and my foster mum would put their cigarettes out on me.” Again, it made your heart sink, but Bob never faulted as he guided your hand around his body, back up to his stomach just above his belly button. Ridged abs peaked through the softness of his skin. “This one is from when I had to have surgery after I got an infection. Doctor said I could have died if my friend and I didn’t walk ourselves to the emergency room.”

Bob wanted you to touch every last scar that littered his body, he wanted your gentle touch to heal his old wounds. So you let him guide you as your straddled his waist and looked down at the roadmap of torture.

“These smaller ones are from when my dad swung the whipper snipper at me, I was in his way, I shouldn’t have been there, I remember they wouldn’t stop bleeding and ruined a bunch of my shirts.”

“None of these are your fault.” All his life, until he joined the Navy and ran as far away as he could, Bob had been told every scar he collected was his fault. The abuse he suffered as a child, from his parents and in foster homes, was his fault. “Someone who loves you doesn’t do this to you.” You reminded the man who laid beneath you. He could hardly breathe with how hard his heart was hammering in his chest as your hands trailed over the expanse of his torso. “Bob I don’t know your history, but from what I can gather about you in the present you are all but the problem.” You were the first person to ever tell him he didn’t deserve the scars he wore, the scars he hid.

“You’re a really good person, you know that right?” Flashes of your own war blinded your vision for a moment. The lies and haunting rumours that had you running as far away as possible could came flooding back to you in a blur as Bob sat up to kiss your lips softly, tenderly, and all so lovingly. “You don’t know how much you mean to me baby.” The term of endearment sent a shiver down your spine you weren’t expecting. But you welcomed it nevertheless. Bob was a dream, your new beginning.

“I reckon you’ve got about three minutes to show me.” You teased, deciding now was not the time to bring up your dead fiancé. “With the shirt off—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#ailesswhumptober2023 #leahs whumptober masterlist #bob floyd x female reader #flight deck // bob floyd #bob fliyd angst #Bob floyd whump #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #top gun imagine #top gun fan fic #tw: parental abuse #tw: mental health #tw: scars

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missathlete31 · 7 months

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Just A Scratch- Part 1

A dramatic angsty Hannix prompt:

Warnings: Phoenix is put into an uncomfortable and unwanted position at the bar so please be wary if anything like that sounds triggering to you.

It all happens so quickly. One minute Phoenix is heading over to Penny to get a round of drinks at the bar and the next second she is being pushed up against the panel-sided wall by a drunk man who's hands find the swell of her ass like they have a homing beacon. Before she can even react he is there, in her space and getting closer, face showcasing a smugness in the way he leers confidently down at her. She's been hit on before of course, and usually reacts better, but something about it happening at the Hard Deck of all places, an establishment that has become like a second home for all the Daggers, puts Natasha in such shock that she can only stare back at the man unmoving.

"Well aren’t you a sight” the man speaks; his breath hot on her ear as he somehow seems to come even closer into her personal space. Natasha can’t contain her shiver, her unease palpable as her mind screams at her to push him off and get out of there and yet her body stays put. It’s not like she’s drunk; Phoenix was the last of the Daggers to arrive and hadn’t even managed to get a drink yet but somehow she is as frozen as a deer in headlights as this stranger gives her ass another squeeze with a grin.

Her lack of fight emboldens the drunken man. Perhaps he is mistaking it for her being interested although from the way he has her virtually trapped against the far wall of the bar, Natasha has a feeling he is the type of predator that enjoys making his prey feel ensnared. She raises a hand and tries to push back, finding enough of herself to recognize she needs out of this situation immediately, but the man bats her attempts at escape away with a chuckle. “If you want to get handsy baby, I suggest we go some place a little more private.”

“Let me go” it’s the first Natasha has spoken and she would be embarrassed by the lack of power in her voice if she wasn’t so freaked out by the whole situation. The man shakes his head with a condescending look, almost as though he finds the female aviator adorable. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya-“

“I said-“ her voice raises as she pushes against the man’s chest again to try and find a path to escape, “let me go.”

“But we are having so much fun” one more squeeze to her butt and then the man is moving to cradle her face, framing the stands of hair that fall over her face. Natasha opted to wear civilian clothes with her hair down today, a decision she regrets as the man in front of her continues to show her no respect. She knows this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if she was in uniform, remembering all the times she’s been called a frigid stick up the ass when she told men no in her khakis. Channeling that power, that strength that she possess when she wears her Lieutenant bars and soon to be Lieutenant Commander if Maverick is right about the ceremony at the end of the month, Natasha gives another push, harder to the point the man actually stumbles a step. He isn’t deterred, merely smiling as he shifts a lock of her hair behind her ear and dares to kiss the spot of skin he removed it from. “Beautiful and a little feisty, my favorite combination-“

“Then you’ll love me” a voice announces and it would be comical how fast the drunk man’s head snaps up at the sound if the whole circumstances wasn’t so scary. Phoenix turns as well, finally feeling a moment of calm as she notices Hangman of all people have come over, his eyes assessing the situation quickly and picking up on her unease. He’s wearing his khakis’ as usual, one of the few Daggers to still dress in regulation despite being on their mandated month of leave. The military Ken doll look works on him though, usually combined with his infuriating smirk and winking sea green eyes. That’s not who stands in front of Phoenix right now though, the flirty and playful Jake gone, replaced with the stone cold killer that Nat only sees on missions. Tonight, Hangman looks livid, lips thin and eyes narrowed as he stares at the man holding Natasha hostage with a glare that would make smarter men run for the hills. The drunk doesn’t seem fazed though, or perhaps he has a death wish, because instead of backing off the man just scoffs Seresin’s way, “Find your own bitch” he warns, sparing Jake no more as he pushes back into Natasha’s body, a bulge in his pants hitting her hip and making this state of affairs a hell of a lot more real.

The pressure only last a second before the drunken man is ripped away from Phoenix and sent careening to the ground the other way. Before the female aviator can even process what is happening, Jake is in front of her, the expression on his face concerned though his eyes still look murderous. “Are you alright?” he asks immediately, his gaze scanning her for injuries while his hands hover without touching. Natasha knows she owes Jake some kind of thank you for saving her but something about Hangman being the one to see her so vulnerable and scared makes Phoenix raise her defenses, the defenses she should have had up from the beginning so she could have fought off the strange man herself. With embarrassment crippling her, she tries to roll her eyes, "I didn't need your help" she comments quickly, hurrying to hide the fluster off her face from the speed of the assault she just endured.

Jake barely blinks at her attitude, eyes still staring, still assessing, "But are you o-“ he’s cut off when suddenly a bottle breaks over his head, sending Hangman stumbling down to one knee from the force of the blow as glass rains all around them. Nat looks up to see her predator coming back, the other half of the broken bottle in his shaking hands, “you’re mine” he states, anger now in his tone from this delay in his conquest. He moves to take another step, but Hangman is up to the task, lunging up and tackling the man away from Phoenix once more.

The altercation has gained the whole bars attention at this point. The music of the piano cut away as everything descends into chaos. Natasha can see Jake land a punch before he is flipped over and lost in the movement of bodies converging on the two fighting men.

Phoenix is yanked immediately away from the wall and the fighting by Payback, who as the tallest of the group is able to spot her quickly as the other Daggers join the fight to back up Seresin. He deposits her over to Halo and Bob, a move that normally would anger Natasha for being ‘handled’ but she is still so shocked by the turn of events that she allows her friends to all but cocoon her in their safety. Pulled over to the side and out of the scuffle, Phoenix is able to watch as the men of her squadron rip the drunken man away from their teammate and throw him towards a corner booth. The man is bleeding from his nose and a split lip, and yet still he tries to fight his way away. Luckily the Daggers seem too formidable for him to overcome and they manage to box him in to the cushion, an image so similar to what the man did to her that Phoenix has to look away. She hears vaguely as Penny yells the police are on their way but Natasha’s attention soon becomes fixated on her savior. Jake is getting clear of the melee, Javy helping him over to a barstool, as blood covers the left side of his head and continues to trickle. Before she even thinks about it, Nat is moving, startling Bob and Callie with how quickly she is heading towards the bar top.

Just as she arrives Rooster is coming over too, handing Jake a towel to hold pressure as Javy runs to get ice. She watches Jake wince the minute the fabric hits his cut, the white of the cotton turning red quickly like it’s already done Seresin’s hair and skin. Natasha isn’t squeamish but the image is more than off-putting especially because it is her fault that the man is hurt anyway. Jake rubs his other hand along his jaw, showcasing the beginning of a bruise no doubt from a punch in the brawl.

Beside the injured aviator, Rooster lets out a long breath, “Penny is asking for an ambulance, just sit tight man-“

“Not needed” Jake moves to shake his head, and then as though thinking better of it, refrains. “I’m fine” though the way he teeters even while seated negates his entire argument. Bradshaw opens his mouth to argue but Nat beats him to it.

“Jake-“ Phoenix manages, because calling him Bagman right now feels wrong, “Oh god Jake-“ before she can say more, both men turn to look at her, wearing identical looks of concerns.

“Nat you alright?” Bradley asks at the same moment that Jake tries to stand and ask the same thing. Rooster pushes him back towards the barstool with barely any pressure, before turning to the female pilot again, “did he hurt you?” the mustached man asks.

“No, I’m fine. But, Jake he- God, I’m so sorry-“

“None of this is your fault Phoenix” Hangman answers, earning a look of approval from Bradley for not allowing Natasha to even try to feel any guilt for the night’s events.

“But- but your head-“

“A cheap shot, it’s nothing” though they can all see the wince when Jake tries to move the towel off. Bradley stands closer, looking over the top of Jake’s head, and giving a long whistle, “I think you’re going to need stitches Seresin” he shares gravely.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now” Bradley points out, emphasizing the now bloody collar of Jake’s khaki’s. It’s said with exasperation and concern, both Bradshaw and Seresin embracing the new level of friendship they had managed to reach after the success of the mission.

“Head wounds bleed a lot” the blonde reasons dismissively, “I’m good.”

“Yeah too good to be true right?”

Before Jake can reply to Bradshaw with his normal quips, Penny arrives, motherly concern on full display as she shuffles Jake towards the office where she keeps her first aid kit. Javy follows the pair, the four shots the man already had during the night making him more of a hindrance than a help, but still they manage. With Hangman gone, Natasha feels cold, not liking the man being out of her sight especially with him being so hurt because of her. As though he can read her mind, Bradley moves closer to Phoenix’s side, not touching her but providing comfort by making sure to block her from the view of her assaulter and the view of Jake’s blood on the floor.

Bob arrives with a glass of water, kind enough not to comment when Natasha’s hands shake when she grips it. Her WSO knows her better at this point than to ask her if she is okay, instead offering her a kind voice, “do you need anything?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “I’m good” she manages, naturally thinking of Jake with that choice of words and cursing herself when her lip wobbles with emotions. Bob, sensing all, places a gentle hand on her forearm “the minute he saw that man get in your space he was off” the bespectacled man supplies.

“What?”

“Hangman, I don’t think I ever seen him so worried. He didn’t even wait for Rooster or Coyote, he just barged on over to get to you.”

“Well you know how he likes to play savior” she murmurs though she hates herself for even saying those words out loud.

Bob eyes her for a moment, reading her mind like he always seems able to do, before shaking his head. “You know better than that” he speaks sadly, disappointment evident. “When I first met you all I thought you both were-“ he stops, pausing to follow Nat’s eyes that can’t seem to help but follow to the back room that Jake has left to go to. “You should talk to him. He- He’s not quite what I thought” Bob decides to share, squeezing his pilot’s arm one last time before giving her a moment.

Phoenix lets out a shaky breath. Its information she can’t process right now, not with the smells of the drunken man’s cologne and Hangman’s blood still under her nose. She wishes she could dismiss Bob’s observation as being misinterpreted but Natasha knows it’s not fair to Bob or Jake. In truth, she’s known Jake Seresin for a decade and though the man has been a thorn in her side, he’s also always been an ally. He’s pushed her harder than any other pilot or teacher ever has, and never looked down on her for being a woman like some of the other men has. In all honesty, if the turf war between him and Bradshaw hadn’t forced Natasha to pick a side, Phoenix knows Jake would be one of her closest friends, maybe even more at this point. They always had a good relationship, a give and take that kept things interesting and fun. She also isn’t blind; able to admit that Jake looks as good as he claims. Could it be that Jake feels the same way? Bob seems to imply as much, and the man’s deductions have been nothing but right since the day she met her WSO in the bar before the mission.

Natasha’s eyes turn back to the office door at the end of the hallway. The door is still closed and Nat knows that somewhere inside Jake is probably still bleeding because of her; hurting because of her. She wants to get to him, to thank him, to apologize, to hold his hand every time he wants to wince from the pain she has caused him. In the span of a few minutes Phoenix realizes that she cares for Jake Seresin, in ways that disguised itself as friendship and camaraderie but feels so much more now. She takes a few steps forward, ready to throw caution to the wind and just be there for the man, when the door flies open and a frantic Coyote runs out. His hands are red with Jake’s blood and the fear in his eyes are enough to almost stop Nat’s heart right there. “SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE” he screams, shocking the room silent, “NOW!”

And then everything descends back into chaos.

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 7 months

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Nevermore

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 11. Fainting, 19. Left Behind, 23. Forced to Watch, 28. Oxygen Deprivation Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader (Raven) Summary: When there is a malfunction during training, Rooster is forced to watch as his world comes crashing down. Word Count: 1153 TW: Character Death, Oxygen Deprivation, Passing Out, Panic

Notes: Thank you to @topguncortez for looking this over for me! 💕 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Bradley groaned as he sunk down deeper into the rec room couch. He absolutely hated these training days. Most of the time he was stuck in this tiny room for hours just waiting for his turn to get into his plane and then he would maybe get an hour up in the sky—if he was lucky. And there was very little to pass the time in here besides one uneven foosball table, a handful of magazines from the mid-2000’s, and a radio connected to the planes currently in the air.

It wasn’t so bad depending on who he was waiting with. But since they had downsized the Dagger squad, he was currently alone with Hangman as his only company. While the two of them had cleared the air and moved past most of their past grievances, it was still awkward hanging out one-on-one like this so they usually just kept to themselves. If only Bradley had been able to switch places with Coyote today. Then he and Hangman could have kept each other occupied while Bradley could have spent this waiting time with you.

It had been bittersweet when Phoenix was promoted out of the Dagger Squad. She more than deserved it but everyone knew the squad just wouldn’t be the same without her. However, Bradley had been overjoyed when he learned you were selected as her replacement to fly with Bob.

He had first met you a few years ago when you were both stationed at the same base. It was instantly clear there was a connection between you and things had gotten pretty serious pretty quickly. However, when you found out you were being transferred a few months later, the two of you mutually agreed long distance wasn’t for you and you parted on great terms. But ever since you joined the Dagger Squad, it was as if no time had passed and you both had picked things up where you had left off.

Neither one of you wanted to put much pressure on the relationship by talking about the future, but Bradley already knew that now that he had you back in his life, he never wanted to let you go again. He just hoped you felt the same way.

Ten minutes later, Bradley had just begun to doze off, lulled to sleep by the constant chatter over the radio, when suddenly Bob’s tone shifted, his words sharp with an edge of concern and nervousness. “Hey, Raven, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Somethin’s wrong…”

Bradley bolted upright on the couch at the labored sound of your voice. Jumping to his feet, he tore across the room and snatched the radio receiver before anyone else could. It was highly frowned upon for those waiting in the rec room to use the radio, but Bradley didn’t give it a second thought as he called out to you, “Rae? Raven, what’s happening?”

“Roo...Oxygen’s not working…Ca-can’t breathe…

No. That can’t be right. The oxygen systems are always inspected before every flight to ensure something like this doesn’t happen. You had been given the all-clear this morning along with everyone else. Yet as he continued to listen to the radio, it was abundantly clear that you were struggling for every breath.

“Lt. Floyd.” Oh shit. Cyclone was monitoring training today. “Is your oxygen compromised?”

“N-no, sir. It’s just Raven’s.”

This was both good and bad news. On one hand, at least Bob wasn’t also being affected and he would be able to stay alert and focused on the situation. But on the other hand, if something happened to you, there was little he could do to help. He didn’t have any steering or altitude controls in the back seat and all emergency overrides were out of his reach.

Grabbing the radio, Bradley carried it over to the window so he could try and see what was happening. Luckily, there were a few clouds covering the worst of the sun’s glare and he could just make out the planes far off in the distance. Two were circling at a normal altitude, but the third seemed to be steadily climbing.

Cyclone must have noticed this too because his voice crackled out of the radio, “Lt., drop altitude to below 10,000 feet immediately and return to base…..Raven? Do you copy?”

“....can’t….breathe….”

“Why is she still going higher?” Hangman murmured as he approached the window to stand next to Bradley.

It seemed counterintuitive but Bradley thought he understood what was happening. Right now you wouldn’t be thinking logically about how to fix the problem, you’d just be straining to get air into your lungs. He could almost see you with your arched back, wide eyes, heaving chest….and fist clenched tightly around the stick as you unwittingly climbed higher and higher.

But then your plane seemed to level out for just a moment—before it began to plummet towards the ground.

Hangman inhaled sharply, “Oh my God…”

“Raven! Raven, wake up!” Bob’s voice was frantic as he cried out, “We’re going in! She’s unconscious and there’s no one on the stick!”

“No, no, no, no!” Bradley screamed, his fist slamming into the window over and over. This can’t be happening. This can’t be…

“Altitude dropping rapidly! Raven, please! Wake up! What do I do?”

“Lt. Floyd…eject.”

“What?” Bob sounded horrified at Cyclone’s command. “No. I can’t. I have to do something! I have to help her! Just tell me what to do!”

“There’s nothing you can do but save yourself. Now eject. That’s an order.”

“But–”

Hangman snatched the radio receiver out of Bradly’s hands and yelled, “Bob, you have to punch out right now! Your chute won’t save you if you go much lower.”

“I can’t…I can’t leave her.”

Hangman turned to Bradley, his face a mix of pain and sorrow as he held out the receiver. They both knew what needed to be done.

Squeezing his eyes tight to keep his tears from falling, Bradley grabbed the receiver and whispered, “Do it, Bob. She’d want you to.”

There was a momentary pause. Then, “I’m sorry.”

A loud bang blasted through the radio as the canopy was torn open and Bob’s seat jettisoned from the plane. Bradley looked out the window, his eyes scanning the sky until he just barely made out the tiny plume of color that had appeared as Bob’s cute deployed. It would be a rough landing, but he had ejected just high enough that he should be alright.

The same couldn’t be said about you.

Bradley sank to the floor as your plane spiraled closer and closer to the ground, bile rising in his throat at the knowledge there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to save you now. All he could do was watch it happen.

Then, just before your plane slammed into the ground in a fiery explosion, he heard one final word whispered through the radio.

“...R-Rooster?”

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @tavners, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @topguncortez @footprintsinthesxnd, @airhogger, @notroosterbradshaw, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @fangirlinc, @sparrows-corner, @ryebecca, @mads-weasley, @trencher4lyfe, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @maggie8002sq, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @tellrock35, @shanimallina87, @mak-32, @ohtobeleah, @blue-aconite, @deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @wkndwlff, @writercole

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 7 months

Text

Nevermore

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 11. Fainting, 19. Left Behind, 23. Forced to Watch, 28. Oxygen Deprivation Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader Summary: When there is a malfunction during training, Rooster is forced to watch as his world comes crashing down. Word Count: 1153 TW: Character Death, Oxygen Deprivation, Passing Out, Panic Notes: Thank you to @topguncortez for looking this over for me! 💕 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

“Somethin’s wrong…”

“Roo...Oxygen’s not working…Ca-can’t breathe…

“Lt. Floyd.” Oh shit. Cyclone was monitoring training today. “Is your oxygen compromised?”

“N-no, sir. It’s just Raven’s.”

Cyclone must have noticed this too because his voice crackled out of the radio, “Lt., drop altitude to below 10,000 feet immediately and return to base…..Raven? Do you copy?”

“....can’t….breathe….”

“Why is she still going higher?” Hangman murmured as he approached the window to stand next to Bradley.

But then your plane seemed to level out for just a moment—before it began to plummet towards the ground.

Hangman inhaled sharply, “Oh my God…”

“Raven! Raven, wake up!” Bob’s voice was frantic as he cried out, “We’re going in! She’s unconscious and there’s no one on the stick!”

“No, no, no, no!” Bradley screamed, his fist slamming into the window over and over. This can’t be happening. This can’t be…

“Altitude dropping rapidly! Raven, please! Wake up! What do I do?”

“Lt. Floyd…eject.”

“What?” Bob sounded horrified at Cyclone’s command. “No. I can’t. I have to do something! I have to help her! Just tell me what to do!”

“There’s nothing you can do but save yourself. Now eject. That’s an order.”

“But–”

Hangman snatched the radio receiver out of Bradly’s hands and yelled, “Bob, you have to punch out right now! Your chute won’t save you if you go much lower.”

“I can’t…I can’t leave her.”

Hangman turned to Bradley, his face a mix of pain and sorrow as he held out the receiver. They both knew what needed to be done.

Squeezing his eyes tight to keep his tears from falling, Bradley grabbed the receiver and whispered, “Do it, Bob. She’d want you to.”

There was a momentary pause. Then, “I’m sorry.”

The same couldn’t be said about you.

Then, just before your plane slammed into the ground in a fiery explosion, he heard one final word whispered through the radio.

“...R-Rooster?”

Taglist:@valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @sugarcoated-lame, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @chouricojr, @king-of-milf-lovers, @high-fidelities, @shaded-echoes-recs, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @thescarletknight2014

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sarahsmi13s · 6 months

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Past Pursuits

whumptober day 19: left behind / "why wasn't i enough?"

pairing: platonic!robert 'bob' floyd x y/n 'star' rogers

characters: bob floyd, y/n rogers, bob's mom

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, canon death, death, death of a parent, grief, self-doubt, questioning worth, feelings of abandonment, driving in the rain, crying, endgame!steve, marvel/top gun maverick crossover, please let me know if I missed any

word count: ~1.7k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

this is a part of the lieutenant rogers series, but can be read alone

i am so so sorry i got this up late, please forgive me

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: after star's father stays in the past when he returns the stones, she's hurt and angry. where better to go than to her best friend?

One thing Bob wasn’t expecting to see on his parents front porch was his best friend soaked by the rain and her motorcycle under the carport.

But there you stood, soak to the bone as your eyes welled up with tears and you fell into his arms.

He wasn’t sure why you were there in Colorado, sobbing into his neck and clinging to him like you had when the Avengers’ civil war sent your dad on the run. And he knew another Blip just happened, bringing back the half it stole five years ago. He knew that only because his mom's sister in law, May, had called her and his mom called him in tears saying that Peter and May were brought back.

It could be any reason, he wasn’t certain though.

He just needed to know why you were crying, he was going to be there for you of course, but he wasn’t sure how to help because he didn’t know what was wrong.

So he pulled you in and got you a change of clothes from his sister and got you some hot coco before sitting on the couch with you under his arm.

“I’m sorry t-to just drop by like-like this… But N-Neil was de-deployed and I didn’t know where else to go…”

Bob kissed your head, “It’s okay. I’m always here for you.” “Thank you Bob. Is.. Is it okay if we talk about it all tomorrow? I need to sleep on something that’s not a motel bed…”

“So my Ma’s couch is better?” He said with a slight chuckle. “I know what’s been on this couch.” He shrugged, “Okay that’s fair.”

The next morning Bob came downstairs to the smell of coffee but no you in the kitchen, just his mom.

“Hey where’s Y/N?” Bob asked as he poured coffee in a tumbler cup.

His mom turned and gave him a sad smile, “She’s out on the porch with a coffee. She’s… um she’s not doin’ okay Bobby… Take her on a drive. Get her to talk.” He nodded, “I will Ma.”

Bob sighed a little and went outside to see you sitting on the step and looking out at the rain with your coffee cooling in your hands.

“Hey Star… you okay?”

You sniffle and shake your head, “No… no I’m not, Bobby…”

“Do you wanna go for a drive?” You sniffled and looked at your feet, “You hate driving in the rain… your glasses fog up.” “But you like it, and this isn’t about me. I want to help you feel better.”

He held out a hand to you, “So, let’s get you some fresher coffee, put you in some fresher clothes. And then blankets and a drive, you can sit in silence or vent that’s up to you, Star.”

You look up at him and he hates how red your eyes are, “Thank you…” You wiped your eyes and took his hand. “What are friends for?”

After getting changed into fresh out of the dryer clothes and then a small breakfast, Bob fixed you a tumbler of coffee grabbed fresh out of the dryer blanket before you both got in his truck, driving off to go down your favorite road.

You were silent for the most part, sniffling every once in a while as Bob drove the scenic route.

Rain pelted the windshield and the windows, the weather around you matching the weather inside you. You stayed curled up against the door with a blanket wrapped around you.

You knew you needed to talk about it, if you didn’t you would explode at the wrong time and say the wrong thing in a fit of anger… risking it being the last thing you ever said to someone.

That was the whole reason you came all the way down here after everything that happened in upstate New York. You went from upstate to Oceana to wish Omaha good luck on his deployment, to Colorado where you knew Bob was spending leave – having got back just before the second snap.

You needed someone, someone that would both understand and not understand your feelings. If Neil was still on dry land you would have brought him out here with you, to have the comfort of both your best friend and your boyfriend. But Bob had seen you in a similar state once before, he had an idea on how to handle it.

Bob pulled his truck into a scenic outlook spot on the road. He knew you liked the area. You came out here with him on your motorcycle a few times.

He parked the truck and just sat there, picking up his coffee and listening to the low music coming from the radio. He wasn’t going to ask questions, knowing that you needed to open up in your own time.

And you would, about 15 minutes into sitting there.

“They’re gone Bobby…”

Your voice was so soft and meek that Bob almost didn’t realize you had spoken.

He sat his tumbler down, “Who, Star? Who’s gone?”

“Tony… Nat… they’re gone,” you said, voice thick with emotion and tears. “They both sacrificed themselves to bring everyone back.”

“Oh Y/N… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s what heroes do though, right? Make the hard decisions so we don’t have to… sacrifice themselves for some dumb fucking rock. Snap their fingers to beat someone at their own game. Take the infinity stones back and leave your only fucking daughter behind in pursuit of your own fucking past because you can’t–”

You stopped yourself, realizing what you had begun to say.

“Y/N?” Bob said with an arched brow.

“That… I…” He turned your head to look at your face. “Hey, what happened? I know Tony and Nat aren’t the reason you’re here… you’re upset at someone other than them.”

You sniffled and wiped your eyes before unbuckling to turn to him fully.

“I just got a-a run down from Bruce, I don’t really understand it but… In order to bring everyone back they had to go through time to get the stones… but once they were done with them, they had to take them back to ‘preserve the timeline’ or whatever.”

You sniffled again and ran a hand through your hair, “Dad… he-he volunteered to take the stones back after Tony’s and Nat’s funerals. He told me and Buck he was giving the shield to Sam and that’s not what I’m upset about…”

Rubbing your face, you groaned, “But when he went back… he stayed in the past. With Peggy. So one minute I was looking at the dad I knew and the next I saw a man I barely recognized… He was older… had a wedding band, had a family with her…”

You sobbed and buried your face in your blanket.

“He left me… He stayed with her and he had a family… Did-Did he even remember me? Did-did he even care that he lived a whole life without me…”

“Star…” Bob said gently, trying to get you to look at him.

“Was I not enough for him? Was I so disappointing that he wanted to start over in a time I didn’t exist?”

Bob shook his head and scooted closer to you, “No, Y/N, that’s not the case at all. He loves you.”

“Then why couldn’t he just retire!? And not start over…” You look up at him, “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong,” Bob tried to assure you, reaching up to wipe your tears and frowning when you turned away. “Then why did he leave me behind?”

Bob shook his head, “Y/N…”

You shook your head, before burying it back in your blanket. Your sobs were muffled by the fabric as you put your hands over your head, shielding yourself from your best friend – trying to shield yourself from the universe.

You were angry with him before and now you were just… hurt.

What did the past have that you didn’t? Familiarity? Predictability? Peggy?

Was that all this was? Chasing an 80 year old kiss? Leaving his daughter and two best friends for someone that thinks he’s dead?

But he was happy with her right? He went back and got to live with her, the love of his life. He got to be happy.

Except… could he not have been happy with you? With his best friends? With the people he left behind?

Bob gently put his hand on your leg, “Star, he loves you, I know he does. He’s so proud of you. He loves being your dad.”

“Then why did he stay… Why couldn’t he come back? I barely got a chance to have him as a dad… and then he started a whole new family…”

“Have you talked to him about this? Did you tell him about how him staying in the past would make you feel?”

“I… He looked so happy thinking about it… and at the time I thought about how if it was me and Oma, I would spend a life with him in a heartbeat.” You wiped your eyes with shaking hands, “But when I saw him something inside me just got so… angry and-and-and so hurt.”

You looked at him and Bob’s heart broke at the desperation in your eyes. “Why am I so angry? Why am I so angry that he lived a life? Why am I so angry that he got to be with the love of his life? Just… why?”

Bob shook his head, “I’m sorry… I-I don’t know..” You sniffled and threaded your hands in your hair. “Hey, c’mere. C’mere,” he gently pulled your hands out of your hair and into his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. “I got you, I got you…”

You cried into his neck as he held you close, clinging to his shirt as he wrapped you in the blanket.

He rested his head against yours. He wished he knew how to help you feel better, but this wasn’t something fixed with a few words. He tried that and it just made you more upset. This was something that you just needed to vent about and then work out later. You needed him to just listen and then hold you, that’s what he could do right now for you.

So that’s what he did, he held you close in the cab of his truck as the rain got heavier and your sobs died down to weak cries before you fell asleep in his arms.

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

lt. rogers tags <33: @milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @malindacath @twsssmlmaa @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 @mayhemmanaged @nikkipea @that-one-random-writer

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

#vinny's whumptober #vinny's rainy day records #ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #whumptober day 19 #marvel/top gun maverick #lieutenant rogers #avengers endgame #steve rogers #rogers #bestie bobert #platonic!bob floyd x reader #crossover #whump #angst #sarahsmi13s

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topgunruinedme · 1 year

Text

Seen not heard - DADvrick

Synopsis: Rooster and Payback pull a prank on Hangman, not realizing it could have been fatal. Maverick and Iceman step in to help the pilot recover.

"He will never be allowed to fly again; do you realize that?"

Word count: 4,023

On A03

Main Master list, Hangman Master List, Prologue.

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so they may be mistakes.

It had been a long eventful day. Maverick managed to shoot him down again despite his best efforts the old man just wouldn’t go down, and then he had to deal with the teasing Phoenix dealt out. As if she herself had not been shot down by the man. He was beyond tired, but he had stayed back after class to look at some old flight manuals. If he was going to beat Pop’s he needed to be in the same court, he couldn’t do that if he didn’t have the ball.

He hadn’t realized how late he had stayed; he hadn’t realised the light in the look had long past dimmed and the crickets had started chirping. He glanced at the clock passingly before realizing it was almost 8 pm, he stood and rolled his shoulders back with a groan. These chairs were certainly not made for long-term use, he winced as his back cracked loudly in the quiet room. He let out a yawn as he collected his book and pen before stepping out into the hallway towards the parking lot. Thank heavens the classroom he had picked wasn’t far, he really didn’t want to walk halfway across base to get to his truck.

It was awfully quiet for a Naval base at night, he could faintly hear a few janitors and the occasional Admiral talking in their office. That’s why he loved studying at night, it was so much more peaceful. The world was sleeping around him, he stepped out into the parking lot; glad to see his truck, his lip twitched in relief. He had hardly made it two steps towards his truck before it happened.

Jake didn’t have any time to react when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled away from his car. His keys and books slipped from his grip, and he fought his capture. His shout was muffled by a hand as he was dragged backwards down a familiar hallway. He saw the classroom he had been studying in passingly as he attempted to dig his feet into the ground to stop them, he only achieved in the souls of his shoes creating a loud squeaking noise on the polished floor before one of his captures kicked his legs out from under him; forcing him to lose his leverage as he was dragged along.

The further into the hallway they travelled the darker it got, why the hell was the lights turned off?

He struggled against his captures almost breaking free once when he shoved his elbow back into someone, the man grunted in pain and Jake's eyes widened at the familiar voice before he was recaptured. Tight grips on his arms and waist as they forced him into an office. There was a chair, it looked out of place - clearly being placed there for this purpose alone. Someone shoved their weight on him, forcing him to stumble blindly into the chair. The other capture did quick work at tying his ankles and wrists to the chair while he was retrained. He attempted to strain and looked around in the darkness to find something, a hint at his capture's, anything. His heart pounded in his ears, unable to move as the rope pulled around his chest as he threw himself forward attempting to dislodge it. He managed to dislodge it enough to sink his teeth into the man’s hand, and his capture jerked away with a cry of pain.

“He bit me!” a hand was thrusted through his hair grabbing a fair chunk of it and yanked his head back using their other hand to force his jaw open as something was forced between his teeth. “Shut up you idiot!” the other person hissed as the object in his teeth straps were tightened and dug painfully into the skin of his cheeks. It made swallowing hard, and he felt a moment of panic as if he was suffocating.

“Done,” the first person said stiffly as they yanked the rope tightly, “let’s get the hell out of here!” he stood and herded the other person out of the room. The small light in the hall allowed a small stream of light to tumble in revealing the face of Rooster and Payback.

“See you later” Rooster smirked, and Payback laughed, “let’s see him leave his wingman after this”, as they shut the door leaving him in pitch darkness.

Nobody will come for you, a voice that sounded frightening like his father muttered. They don’t care about a pilot like you, dead weight. You’re not even useful, just the spare.

His mind flashed back to the day of the mission when Maverick decided who was the mission leader. He hadn’t slept the night before too afraid to go to sleep spending most of the night throwing up, petrified. This was a suicide mission no one should be happy to go on. It was their job, to go where they are told. There was no guarantee they would come back from this.

He had known the moment Maverick stood in front of them all, he didn’t once take his eyes off Rooster. Don’t, don’t make that mistake he begged silently, don’t let the past get in the way.

But there was nothing he could do, “Rooster” the man declared anyway. Jake felt like his heart had dropped, he had tried. He had worked so hard to get here, he tried to get along with the others. He wasn’t going to pretend this wasn’t dangerous, he wasn't going to put himself in danger because the others were playing house. Why wasn’t he enough? He had tried to work with the others, he had gotten better. He had been flying successfully with the others, he tried to prove himself. He was the only one to pass the mission, the simulation. The only one to get close to the time, the only one to lead without complications or death, Rooster was the only one in the squadron who didn’t pass the mission!

He was going to get them all killed.

“The dagger spare will be Hangman”, dagger spare, that’s all he ever was a spare. Maverick was going to get everyone killed, no one was coming home from this mission.

His father chuckled in his ear; see boy they can see through you. Through that pathetic act, you put on. They can see you.

He wasn’t terribly surprised to hear Maverick go down, or that Rooster ever the stupid impulsive spoilt man he was went back after him getting shot down himself. He was relieved to see dagger, 3 and 4 return, even if they were grieving the loss of the others.

It was inevitable, he had warned them all in the beginning.

But then they had survived, somehow. Wrecking 2, two-million-dollar planes pointlessly in the process. He was ordered to go after them, Hangman fixing it once again.

He didn’t remember much of the time in the air, he said something about putting a tray up, trying to focus on his pounding heart in his ears and trying to force down his own panic. He heard Rooster laugh and forced himself to continue their usual banter. But once they were on the ground, he had been forgotten again, shoved to the side.

Maverick and Rooster reunited, and the crew celebrated, Javy came to his side silently and lead him away. Hidden in his rooms, his hands trembling and his chest constricting in the undeniable panic as his best friend held him as he sobbed. He had killed again, this time he hadn’t hesitated.

When he joined the celebration, everyone seemed to have forgotten his sacrifice, his kill. They ignored him, he sat at the table eating silently with Javy by his side as they watched Maverick and Rooster be flaunted and fawned over. He wasn’t sure he even wanted that; he was somewhat grateful he was so forgettable. His achievements were forgotten.

But they didn’t even acknowledge him in their squadron anymore, he didn’t attempt to sit with them anymore, receiving odd looks. “What do you want Bagman?”, they didn’t want him.

He wasn’t the best, not anymore, they didn’t need him anymore. He had spent every night worrying someone would come and tell him to leave, that Top Gun was only reserved for the best. His anxiety jumped every time he heard someone knock on the door, always keeping a go-bag packed and ready to go. For two weeks straight until they hit land.

His heart jumped, and he swore he had heard footsteps behind him. He strains his eyes to look out in the dark. A familiar chuckle entered the room, and he felt the blood in his face leave, and he pulled at the ropes in desperation.

“Did you really think you could escape me boy?” his father whispered as he leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear, Jake could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I’ll make you pay for staying away so long” the man promised, Jake yanked harder at the restraints, feeling them chaff his skin and the pain of it rubbing them raw. He attempted to cry out waiting for the unforgettable whip of a belt on his back, only becoming more distressed when it didn’t immediately come as the room stayed silent.

Where was he? Why was he drawing it out? Why was he tormenting him?

“Why did you not get top marks, boy?” the man finally spoke again, Jake’s eyes tried to scan the room in confusion. His body jerked as the wind from the window caused the blink the smack against the wall, making a ‘bang’ flood through the room. He could feel sweat rolling down his back, which only prompted the next question.

“Why is your uniform in such disarray?” the man fumed, “Do you have no pride!”. Jake shifted his jaw as if to speak when his father cut him off, “Did I say you could speak?”. His tone was a cold and frightening one, he had become used to it early in his childhood facing down the furious man.

“Little boys are seen not heard” his father whispered softly, the familiar manter he had heard throughout his childhood.

“Stop your sniffing!” his father yelled causing him to flinch, he hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down his face. “Only little girls and weak men cry” he sneered, he heard the terrifyingly familiar snap of a belt hitting the air, and his father’s deadly voice “do I need to give you a reminder?”. Jake couldn’t stop the whimper he releases, his eyes screwed up in fear as he waited for the belt to strike.

Maverick signed as he searched through the hazardly stuffed documents he had put in his bag this morning before realizing he was missing one. Damit, it must still be in his office, he had no clue how he had missed it; he had just grabbed the entire lot and stuffed them in. although he didn’t pay attention to what they were, maybe it had just slid his notice. He ran a hand through his hair in exhaustion, it was already making itself aware. He hadn’t been sleeping well, he never did when Ice was away on meetings, he was thankful his husband had returned last night. Although he was glad to finally have a chance to get some decent sleep, he did everything but sleep last night. He left his bag on the bike as he started the short trip back to the office.

Slider had stayed to keep him company while Ice was away, while he appreciated the man’s concern, his taunting and misplaced jokes got old quickly. He really hoped the man was gone when he got home, he didn’t want a repeat of this morning. Slider had smirked at him over his cup of coffee, “Have a good night last night?”. Ice hadn’t even batted an eye at the man, of cause they spend most of their Navy career living in the same room. It was not something new to Ice, Maverick however still couldn’t get used to how casual the man was about sexy to have the gull comment about it to his face not even an hour after.

He stilled when he heard a noise, he frowned and flicked on the lights in the hallway. Why were they off? It was far too early for the janitors to leave yet. He heard it again. A small whimper, and then someone cried out, it was muffled but definitely there. He followed it to his office; he was not looking forward to interrupting two lieutenants who decided to try and have a tumble in his office as an idea of fun.

He opened the door with an air of caution.

Jakes’s eyes flew open when he heard the door open, light flooded into the room. Maverick stood in the doorway with a look of confusion and horror.

Please! Please help me, Maverick! Please chase away my monster! Don’t let him hurt me!

He hadn’t expected this, the terrified clouded blue eyes that were stretched wide. Visible strips ran down his face where tears had been previously, the red ball gap shoved between the man’s teeth preventing him from speaking. His arms were tied behind him on the chair the rope stretching across his chest all the way down to his legs efficiently pinning him to the chair, making it impossible to be in any type of comfortable position forcing him to sit up straight.

“Jake?” he rushed to the man; the boy was trembling in the chair. He pulled the boy’s head forward resting it on his stomach as he quickly undid the buckle of the gag. He carefully pulled it from Jake’s skin and gently urged the man to open his mouth wider to pull it out. There were distinct marks on his teeth where he had subconsciously bitten into the ball in an attempt to escape. He then allowed the man to rest his head against him as he rubbed the man’s undoubtedly sore jaw; his other hand running through the man sweat covered hair. Allowing the panicking man to pant against him, chest heaving as he whispered to him soothingly. It’s alright, just breathe. I’m here now.

“Are you ready to continue?” he asked softly, Jake whimpered “no? that’s ok we can stay here for a bit. Whenever you’re ready” he stroked the man’s hair softly. Very slowly, Jake’s breathing started to settle into a steady rhythm.

Jake nodded giving him permission to continue, he stepped back releasing him; stepped around behind him as he went looking for the pocketknife, he kept in his desk drawer. He heard the desperate whine, and Jake let out in distress.

“I know Jake, I’m going as fast as I can alright” he tried to soothe as he found the knife and rushed back to the man’s side. He grabbed Jake’s wrists and mumbled softly to the terrified man, “I’m going to start cutting now, try not to move”. Maverick focused on the boy’s grip that was holding his wrist desperate for contact as he pulled the rope away from his wrists to ensure he didn’t cut the younger man, wincing as the robe tightened somewhere else on his body; cut the robe thread by thread.

He waited anxiously as the robe strained against more and more weight until it finally snapped, cut through and dropped to the ground. Jake sagged forward without the strict rope holding him back, Maverick quickly shifted the knife out of the way, so the man didn’t skew himself on it. Jake cried out in pain when he attempted to move his numb arms, “they’re going to be sore for a little while, darling” Maverick said as he rubbed up his left arm carefully to his shoulder and then repeated it on the other side, paying extra time to carefully rub his raw wrists where the ropes had down the most damage.

“Alright, I’m going to move on to your legs next alright?” he warned waiting until Jake nodded, Maverick knelt to cut the robes around his ankles. He felt the man’s hand grip the back of his t-shirt. He was still trembling still, he stood back up chucking the knife to the side when Jake was free. “Alright I’m going to lift you Jake”, he warned lifting his arms under the man’s shoulders and knees standing adjusting to the man’s weight.

Thank God it was after hours, he stepped out into the hall quickly using the back hallways towards the med bay.

He moved swiftly not wanting to risk raking to much time, this may not have hurt the man physically but who knows what it did to him psychologically?

“I need help over here!” he yelled out as he shouldered his way into the med bay, startling the idle medical staff. Forcing them to jump into action as he placed the trembling man onto the bed.

He attempted to bring the covers over Jake to give him something to ground him, but it only made him panic more, “please don’t” Jake asked with a small voice. Looking up at him, “don’t tie me up again, I’ll be good” Jake whispered his jaw trembling. Maverick swallowed hard and gripped the boy’s hand, he wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t.

He dug out his phone from his pocket confident he would be spending many more hours here and sent a message to his husband.

He stood in front of his class the next day after spending all night in the midday by Jake’s side before Ice took over. He stared at the empty chair in the otherwise full classroom he didn’t miss Rooster and Payback’s grins. Please no.

“Last night, there was an incident involving Lieutenant Seresin” he started sullenly, his eyes scanning the class; “I’m giving you a chance now to step up and take responsibility before I start my own investigation”. Rooster’s lips twitched and he nudged Payback who laughed, “it was just some harmless fun sir” Payback smiled, “Rooster and I, we just wanted to teach him a lesson”.

Ice stared at him from his crouched position beside him, “go, ill watch over him. I promise nothing will happen; I’ll get you the moment he’s awake” his husband promised with a kiss.

Maverick clenched his jaw, oh god please no. “Congratulations” he watched confusion fall over the class, “Lieutenant Seresin had been removed from active duty and handed in his wings. You have single-handedly dragged a man out of the sky for your own entertainment”.

The nurses looked at him in sorrow “I’m Sorry Captain Mitchell, He failed his physiological exam. I can’t in good conscience let him fly any time soon”.

“When?”

“He might never recover”

“What?” Rooster asked in shock, “we didn’t do anything to him!”. Maverick closed his eyes for a moment to retain his anger and despair, we didn’t raise you like this.

“What do you mean he won’t recover?”

“It will take time, a lot of time. He will need someone to be there for him. Every moment of the day-”

“I’ll be there, we both will”

He opens his eyes and forces himself to look blankly at the man, “There will be an investigation and a trial. Please hand in your wings”. Don’t make me take them.

He watched devastation and anger crawl onto Bradley’s face, this was like when he pulled his papers all over again.

Expect this time he hurt someone; he couldn’t stand for that.

He held out his hand palm face up as he watched Rooster stand and shove the pin into his outstretched hand storming out to the door, Payback was much quieter placing it carefully down on the palm.

“Bradley” he stopped the boy before he could storm out, his form almost vibrating in anger. Bradley stopped in the doorway standing stiffly but did not turn to him, this was exactly like his papers.

“He will never be allowed to fly again; do you realize that?” Bradley stood there for a moment before storming out, he had lost 3 pilots in a day.

The room was silent for the most of it, surprisingly it was Bob who broke the silence pulling his gaze away from the empty doorway the two men have long left. “Sir” Bob broached carefully sending him a concerned look, almost nervous “is he ok?”.

Bob was asking about Jake; he hadn’t even realized the two men were talking. But Bob seemed worried almost, “Stay after class Bob, Class dismissed” he waved his hand clenching his fist with the pins as the classroom emptied.

Bob silently stood and came to his side as they waited for the classroom to empty. Once the last person left, and the door slid shut, Maverick leaned back on his desk with a wearily sign.

“I’m not going to sugar-coat it, Bob. It’s not good” He held out a hand before the younger man could talk, “I can’t tell you what happened, but you can come to see him” he added hesitantly, “if you want that is”.

The WSO nodded silently and followed him without prompting, they walked down the busy hallways moving around people. Not once did Bob move from his shoulder, when had this happened? He didn’t remember Jake talking directly to bob once, surely this wasn’t a hidden in private friendship. He watched the man out of the corner of his eye, the man was fiddling with his book, bending it before soothing the creases out of It; moving determinedly but also attempting to keep to the same pace he was. He could see the man’s pace speed up almost anxious when the med bay came into sight, perhaps the man wasn’t aware of it.

Bob walked straight into the hospital bay without any hesitation walking past his husband to Jake’s bedside. He wasn’t sure if Bob just didn’t care at that point or if he hadn’t realised the man in civies was Admiral Kazansky but he didn’t stand at attention or salute. Ice let it pass silently moving to give the man space, Bob didn’t look at him once his attention was captured by Jake who looked at him with a dopey smile.

“Hey,” Jake said quietly as the younger man who pulled the man over the bed and brought him into a hug, “hey” Bob grinned at the man shyly.

Ice moved to the side and came to Maverick side, “How is he?” Maverick asked his husband softly. Ice signed and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s not good” he admitted, “they think he’s claustrophobic, he won’t let the nurses give him any blankets. I’m not sure how he’s going to get back into the cock pit Mav”.

“Well take care of him” Maverick smiled, Ice returned it and kissed his husband on the cheek as he pulled the smaller man in for a hug, “the spare bedroom is already set up for him”. Thank God Slider had left, he couldn’t deal with the man on top of this.

Maverick laughed softly, “God I knew I loved you for a reason”.

“Maverick?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you ever get that document you were after?”

Maverick mind blanked and he let out a startled laugh, after all, that had happened in the last two days, he had forgotten all about it. He laid his head back on his husband’s shoulder the man just rolled his eyes fondly.

A/N: What does everyone thing about possibly turning this into a series?

Tag List: @tallrock35, @inthestars-underthesun, @luckyladycreator2, @fortunatelycrazyyouth, @lgkoval.

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topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Brosectomy - J. Seresin

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x shy!wife characters: Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC!Wife (Valerie), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Alex Seresin, Ella Seresin, Eli Seresin, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace warnings: vasectomy, crude language (?), Jake and Javy are dramatic, Jake post-surgery word count: A/N: I saw these tiktoks about Link and Rhett's brosectomy, and now here we are:) And here's a little break from all the whump

|| masterlist || Opposites Attract World || library page ||

When Jake and Y/N found out they were expecting not one, but two children, Jake knew that it was time to get a vasectomy. Y/N had mentioned getting her tubes tied after Eli, but Jake didn't want her to make a decision that would be so permanent when they weren't sure if they were totally done having kids. He also didn't want her to have an extra surgery that would take her longer to recover from, when he could get a local anesthetic and be done within an hour and be able to run after the kids that same day.

Jake wanted to wait until at least after the twins were born to get the surgery, wanting to make sure that he would be able to help. But then he changed his mind when Coyote explained he was also looking into the surgical option.

Coyote and his wife Valerie had three kids under the age of three, and were done for the time being. And Jake couldn't blame them. He was happy that him and Y/N had spaced their kids out by three years.

Y/N and Valerie were sitting in the kitchen as their kids played together. Y/N was the closest with Valerie out of all the wives/partners of the group. She had known her the longest and was Alex's godmother. Y/N felt like she was ready to pop being nearly seven months pregnant with the twins. Valerie was in the middle of telling some story about her oldest girl, Jenna face planting down the stairs when Jake walked in.

“We’re getting a brosectomy,” Jake announced and opened the fridge to get a water out, handing one to Coyote who trailed in behind him.

“A what?” Y/N asks, turning to face the boys.

“A brosectomy,” Coyote repeats.

“Got that, Javy… what exactly is that?” Valerie asks.

“A vasectomy with the bros,” Jake smiles, “Val, Javy here tells me that you two have talked about him getting the ol snip, and well if i even mention having another baby, this missus right there looks ready to commit murder.” Y/N and Valerie shared another look at Jake’s explanation, “So why not go through this stage of life with your bro. Javy and I have done damn near everything together.”

“What brings two guys closer than cutting your swimmers off,” Javy shrugs.

“The two of you literally fly death machines together,” Y/N pointed out, “But I mean… it’s your bodies, your choices.”

“I agree with Y/N. At least a vasectomy is reversible if we want more kids,” Valerie said. Jake gave Y/N a look and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

“Don’t even think about it Seresin, five is enough,” Y/N said pointing a finger at him, and if as right on que, three blonde haired Seresin children came running in, followed by three dark haired Machado children.

"How fast can you get this appointment?"

Jake got the appointment very quickly. Having already researched an arsenal of surgeons in the area, him and Coyote chose one that they both liked, and made appointments for as soon as possible. They schedule time off work, the doctor recommended at least 10 days totally off work and another week or so of no flying. Jake thought he was going to die not being able to fly for three weeks, but he told himself it was a small price to pay compared to the intensive labors Y/N had gone through.

Phoenix was watching the Seresin kids as Y/N sat in the small room with Jake. He was cursing up a storm about having to wear the hospital gown, but Y/N found it hilarious. She had become a near expert about hospital gowns and always came prepared. Jake climbed up on the small exam table with a sigh, and Y/N giggled.

"You think this is funny?" He said looking over at her, "Some doctor is about to come in here and cut my balls off."

"Okay, you are not a dog," Y/N said rolling her eyes, "And it's just a clip on the-"

"I know, I remember the video," Jake shuddered. He waited a moment before looking over at his pregnant wife, "Is it weird to be sad?"

"No, I don't think it's weird," Y/N said, and leaned over the best she could to run her fingers through his hair, "It's a big thing. It's a life changing thing, really. Means no more babies," She looked down to her very round stomach.

"It's really the end," Jake sighed, "But it doesn't mean we still can't practice." He gave her that classic Hangman smirk and wink.

"Once you start shooting blanks, we can," Y/N sat back in her chair as there was a knock on the door. She smiled as Jake's doctor and Coyote came trailing into the room, "Doctor Miller."

"Y/N, Jake, you ready for this?" Doctor Miller asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Jake sighed and shifted on the exam table, "Give me the ol' snip, doc!"

"I think that's my cue to leave," Y/N giggled. Coyote helped her stand up from the chair and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Val already out there?"

"Yep, so is Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy," Coyote said and Y/N gave him a questioning, "Moral support."

"Oh good god, you would think you two are about to have brain surgery with the dramatics," Y/N rolled her eyes, "I'll see you in an hour," Y/N said to Jake and he nodded, "I love you."

"I love you too," Jake said and kissed his wife.

Y/N said a goodbye to Coyote and Doctor Miller before going out to the waiting room with Valerie. She sighed as she sat down next to the woman.

"We are married to two of the most dramatic men I have ever met," Valerie joked.

"Their mothers deserve an award," Y/N smiled.

It was nearly an hour later when Doctor Miller came out to tell the two wives that their husbands surgeries were complete and they were in recovery. Y/N waddled her way down to the recovery room that Jake was in. She giggled at the look on his face and the ice pack pressed to his groin area.

"I'm glad you find my pain funny," Jake slurred.

"I'm sorry, baby," Y/N said and walked over to her husband. Jake sat up a bit and put his hands on either side of growing belly.

"I did this cause I am a true man and true men do this for their wives," Jake said to her bump. Y/N had to bite back her laughter, "Even if one of you are, or both of you, are girls, you make your man get the cut. Or if you are boys, you get the cut for your wives."

"Okay Mister True Man," Y/N said and Jake looked up at her eyes. His pupils were slightly dilated, probably from the pain meds he was given. He had a lazy smile on his face as he leaned up to kiss his wife, "How are you feeling?"

"Amazing," He sighed and laid back on the bed, "Javy saw my dick, said you're a lucky woman."

"Oh my god," Y/N blushed.

"You are! The luckiest, ever. And now we can fuck all the time and not have to worry about kids. Even though they are a blessing and I love them so very much. We can raw dog it all the time now," Jake gave his wife a lazy smirk and she shook her head, "What!? You like it when I hit it raw." He reached down and grabbed his wife's ass making her squeal.

"Jacob Thomas Seresin!"

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saltsicklover · 7 months

Text

Part Thirteen

This is a long chapter for this fic! It's most definitely a rollercoaster and I should probably just put a huge warning on this chapter because it's a lot! Hangman Sucks, Natasha Sucks, Bob sucks, hell even Sunny sucks towards the end. It's one giant suckfest, most definitely a whump at the end. That's to say, I'd love to know what you think about it!

ALSO This Fic has just surpassed 40k words with this chapter! Technically its over 43k but still! Thank you for reading so many of my words! I love and appreciate all of you!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6300+

Rating: R

Warnings: Tobacco, Swearing, Fighting, Blood, Crying, Anger, so so much Anger. Bob being slightly obsessed with Sunny's perfume in what could be a low key creepy way.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The trilling of Natasha's cellphone does nothing to pull Sunny out of her dumbfounded state, her brain playing Nat's bombshell of a sentence over and over again on loop. A broken record minus the squeak of the vinyl.

"It's about time, Bagman," Natasha answers the call with a swipe of her finger, her voice carrying an aggravated tone. She tucks her phone between her shoulder and her cheek, leaving her hands free to stir her coffee.

"Phoenix," Hangman's voice comes through the phone a bit muffled, like his hand is covering his mouth, "I fucked up,"

If he fucked up, maybe he should sound a bit more remorseful, but Natasha doesn't point that fact out. It's really not important, and it's not like she plans on letting him forget about this any time soon.

"Yeah, no shit," That much is obvious to her, and finally Jake realizes it too, "Glad you finally put that together, what, twelve hours later?" Natasha does nothing to hide her annoyance. If it wasn't for Jake storming from the Hard Deck, his phone going unanswered, then Natasha and Sunny could have been out on the town by now. They would be shopping until Sunny couldn't possibly stuff anything else in her duffel. What's paying for one more checked bag, right?

"Yeah- well, I remembered when I woke up an hour ago-"

"An hour ago?! And you're just returning my call now? Jesus, Bagman, how hung over are you?" Natasha rolls her eyes, her hand coming back up to grasp her phone, though Hangman won't be able to see either action. She hopes that he will hear it in her voice- how ticked off she is becoming. If anyone could make the vocal eye roll a thing, it would be Natasha Trace.

Glancing over at Sunny, Natasha notices she still has the same bewildered expression painted on her features. She can see the gears in Sunny's head turning with the way her eyebrows are furrowed, lips pursed, the only thing missing is the steam that should be pouring out of her ears. Then, Hangman's sputtering from the other side of the phone drags her back to that conversation.

"Spit it out Hangman,"

"I came out to my truck to grab her bag and bring it into my place so it would be safe until you got here, but, Phoenix, it's not here," Seresin's almost whispering the last bit, Natasha even hits her volume button with her thumb in a failed effort to hear him better.

"What?"

Confusion. Natasha hopes she heard him wrong.

"It's not here, Phoenix. Sunny's bag, it's not in the bed of my truck. It isn't in the cab either,"

"What?"

Anger. She hadn't.

"I didn't even remember that I had it until I got my phone plugged in this morning. Damn thing has been dead all night," Jake swears to himself under his breath, feeling the tension growing over the dead space of the call.

Pinching the bridge of your nose is supposed to help stop headaches. Nat has never believed that fact, yet she pinches the bridge of her nose hard with her fingertips.

"I swear to God, Hangman, I am going to murder you if you don't find Sunny's duffle," That gets Sunny's attention, the wheels in her head slowing, expression changing, confusion visible on her face. But, as soon as she locks eyes with Nat, her eyebrows lift to her hairline in question. Natasha pulls the phone away from her ear, but makes zero to attempt to cover the microphone when she tells Sunny, "Hangman fucked up and if he doesn't fix it, I am going to kill him,"

The nod that comes from Sunny pleases Natasha, the trust the younger woman has for her is evident in her lack of concern. Hangman is almost humming through the phone, impatient. The sound of a slamming truck door accompanying the swearing he is failing to cover up.

"Fix it, Hangman," Is the last thing Natasha threatens the man with before hanging up the phone.

"What was all that about?" Sunny has laid herself back down in the sun, one arm under her head, the other coming up to shield her eyes. She still squints a bit, her whole expression wrinkling over.

Natasha notices just how relaxed she is, even with all of the bullshit that has been going on, so she takes a moment to think of her next move. Sunny wriggles a bit in her chair, watching Nat closely, waiting impatiently for an answer. So, Phoenix huffs, releasing a large breath from her lungs.

"Somewhere between last night and this morning your duffle bag disappeared from the back of Hangman's truck," Natasha tries to wave her hand as if to emphasize that this little bit of information is really no big deal. She doesn't necessarily believe this herself, but she doesn't want Sunny's trip to get any worse than it has been already. After all, this isn't exactly how Phoenix had imagined their first visit going. "He is going to find it, but until then, lets find you something to wear and we can use it as an excuse to get you a new outfit."

The wink that Natasha sends Sunny across the deck makes Sunny giggle. Though she knows she should be worried about her lost items, Sunny can't find it in her to care all that much. The biggest disappointment would be having to replace the bag itself. Everything else in that damn duffel bag could go up in cinders and there wouldn't be any big loss. After all, Sunny already abandoned the most important thing to her at Bob's feet, the night before at the Hard Deck.

"Give me a cute shirt to put on over my dress and we can go shopping, how does that sound?" Sunny shoots her friend a smile.

"Deal,"

After Sunny manages to pull her day old clothes back onto her body, fighting off the way they feel tear stained and gritty from the sand, she combs her way though Nat's closet. Her fingers wonder over the hangers, one by one. Each piece is different, but all of them soft and well loved.

"I'm surprised how many pieces ofclothing you have in here," Sunny teases, her voice light as it meets Nat's ears over the sound of running water. "So feminine, too, Nat. I thought you'd dress a little more, I don't know... President of the boy's club,"

Natasha tries to feign offense but the toothbrush that's set between her closed lips keeps her quiet.

"I mean, half of this is still uniform pieces, I know that, but still so feminine," Sunny jokes, trying to ignore the way Nat hangs her upper body out of the bathroom, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman.

"You're in a fucking dress, you yahoo," Phoenix speaks through a mouth of suds, her toothbrush in her hand.

"I know that, and I'm trying not to be," Sunny shoots back, sticking her tongue out.

"I know a few Aviators that would love to help you with that problem," Phoenix's voice sounds a little more muffled from her space in front of the sink, but definitely lacking in suds.

"Bradley would never!" The gasp is fake, but the giggling coming from both women is all too real.

"Maybe not, but I can think of one very deserving man, and one who is less so, who would both be equally thrilled."

"And who exactly is the deserving one, Nash?" Sunny inquires, yanking a t-shirt off of a hanger before tugging it over her head. She ties it in a knot at her waist, allowing the skirt to peak out below it.

Natasha is leaning out from the bathroom once more, grinning at Sunny as she fixes her clothes in the mirror. The shirt reads FORD is large blue letters across the front. It clashes a bit with Sunny's dress, but the fabric is so soft she can't help but claim it for the day. She chuckles to herself, thinking it's most definitely something Bob might have owned once upon a time, and that thought warms her a bit on the inside.

Natasha is grinning because she knows that shirt wasn't hers, once upon a time. It had been stolen from Bob one day when she came home from a night out and found it discarded on the hardwood by the front door. It was intended to be a little piece of blackmail, but this, this was better. She wants to let Sunny know that little tidbit of information, but decides to keep it to herself, enjoying the joy on her friend's face. Maybe Bob will see her in it and say something, or maybe he will enjoy getting to see her in it too.

"Behave while I am in the shower, would you?" Natasha's voice is muffled by the now closing bathroom door, the sound of water coming through the pipes erupts a moment later, giving Sunny zero time to actually form an answer. With a mumble of "not likely" to herself, Sunny runs her hand over a garment bag that's hung towards the back of the closet. After a chance look back towards the bathroom to insure the door is still shut, she pulls the zipper on the garment bag down, revealing Natasha's stark white Dress Uniform in all of it's official glory. The damn thing is almost blinding in person between the pristine fabric and the shining of the buttons.

An idea that hits Sunny almost makes her laugh out loud. With nimble fingers, Sunny pulls the entirely too white jacket off of the hanger. She pulls it on, carefully easing the stiff fabric up over her shoulders. With one gentle finger, Sunny feels the coldness of the nametag pinned to the chest.

The plate reads the wrong name, Trace, filled in with white paint.

Sunny takes in the sight of herself in the full length mirror Nat has propped up against the wall in the front of her bedroom. She attempts to ignore the tight feeling in her chest.

The bright red of Sunny's dress, and the gray shirt she had just pulled over her body a few moments before, now partially obscured by the bright uniform top. It looks funny on her, from the way her eyes look to innocent against the hardness of the uniform to the way her fingers dance along the stiffness of the fabric.

The urge to see Bob in is own uniform tangles in her chest along with the tight feeling- there is not enough space for both and she wants nothing more than to rip the fabric from her body. But, as she moves to pull it from her shoulders, she catches a glance of herself in the mirror one last time, pain in her expression, loneliness in the spaces of darkness below her eyes and suddenly, the uniform looks a little bit more correct.

---

When Bob pulls his truck into the driveway later that morning, he carefully shifts down into park, shutting off his truck with a feeling of defeat clawing at his chest. He knows he shouldn't be tiptoeing around his own home, or holding his breath over the fact that Natasha's car is still parked out front. Yet, he can't shake that feeling from his bones. Both women still have to be home, not that Bob really expected anything different. After all, Sunny'sduffle is sitting in the passenger seat of his truck and he didn't expect her to wear her day old clothes out of the house.

It's not like Bob thought she would mind, exactly. Sunny grew up on a ranch after all, and day old clothes worn in the city are still cleaner than any workwear found on a ranch. But, it's the principal. At least, that's what Bob has been telling himself.

The fact that Hangman took off with Sunny's bag last night in the first place ticked Bob off, and so Bob went over to Jake's place to get it himself. Bob told himself when he pulled into Jake's driveway that he was doing the right thing- fixing his wingman's problem. He planned to call him later and let him know that the bag had been picked it up. Jake was bound to be sleeping off some sort of monster hangover, right? And there was no selfish motivation behind it, right?

Bob lays his head against the steering wheel, forcing a couple of deep breaths into his system. It's getting increasingly more difficult to lie to himself about Sunny, now that she had walked back into his life, looking like everything he had ever wanted. Hell, she looked better, if that was even possible. She looked like his future, and up until she opened her mouth and the pieces fell into place, Bob thought he might break out his rusty moves and flirt the night away with her.

That certainly didn't happen.

Now that he has Sunny's bag, he's going to have to face her, right? After all, he can't exactly avoid her the whole time she is here, that wouldn't make him a very good host. Even if all of this history is stuck between them like some sort of unconquerable dividing force. Bob put himself in this situation, twice now. First when he abandoned her all those years ago, and again just this morning when he drove himself to Hangman's house and pilfered the bag from the back of his truck.

The urge to unzip the bag and let the smell of Sunny's perfume flood the cab of the old Ford is almost too tempting. He can smell the faintest bit of left over fragrance on the bag itself, the smell all wood smoke and cedar under the lightest brush of vanilla that seems to be fading faster than the rest. Bob can't help the way the corner of his lip curls up at the scent. Sunny has never been a flowers and sweets kind of girl, those scents all too feminine and soft for a woman like her, at least, that's how Bob saw it. Hell, the damn burnt woodsmoke smell reminds him of home and it just makes sense that Sunny would wear it.

Sunny has always been the worlds strongest girl in Bob's eyes. Maybe that's what allowed him to be so mean to her during school, and why he stood there and took her verbal beating in front of the crowd at the bar. Growing up in a Man's world, on a ranch in Florence, no doubt forced her into being strong- and if she couldn't punch her way out, she could sure as hell use her words. All Bob cared about was the fact that those words were directed at him, even if they hurt as he replays them over and over in his mind.

There's that old saying, you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl. Bob assumes the same thing can be said about Montana. After all, Duchenne- Sunny is a Montana girl through and through and he can't separate them in his head.

Hell, even if Bob has to remind himself over and over again that Duchenne isn't the one sitting in his house, it's Sunny now, all grown up, Bob still looks at her and sees, strength, sees home. He can see the clear of the sky in the smoothness of her skin. The wind plays through her messy hair, now in metaphor but still all there, fresh and crisp, bringing goosebumps to his skin.

The damn smell of cedar and woodsmoke just completes the picture in his head; it leaves him yearning, which in a way feels just like home too.

There isn't a way he can put it off anymore without a fear that he will throw the car into reverse and not come back until dark, so Bob pulls the bag over his shoulder and heads into the house. The sound of water running through the pipes hits his ears as soon as he walks in, and a deep breath he has been holding makes its way out of his lungs.

Maybe he'll get lucky, he thinks, maybe she's in the shower and he can give the bag to Phoenix, delay talking to Sunny for another day, maybe two. Bob stalks up the stairs, the weight of Sunny's duffle threatening to collapse him at any second.

It's not the weight, not really.

It's the impending doom of it all. The bomb just a few seconds before it goes off, fragile and ticking down with each step he takes.

The floor board creak beneath him, and it's a fitting sound, really, the groaning of the house matching the aching of his bones as he fights against the gravity pulling him down; pulling him in. It's the dizzying smell of woodsmoke that is flooding his senses that really seals the deal. It is stuck in his nose, much like the scent of jet fuel used to be. A part of him hopes that it also takes weeks to fade, to become something he no longer notices, that way, he can drown it while she is here, but then it will disappear our the door with Sunny.

There is a moment where, just for a second, Bob wants to turn right around and head back out to the truck. Maybe not to leave, but to just exist in that scent for a little while longer without the fear of losing it. He hopes that it will stick around, that it will have embed itself into his upholstery.

Hell, he hopes Sunny will stick around too, but that thought is fleeting and too far fetched to entertain for more than a second. After all, what's worth sticking around Miramar for, anyway?

The flash of stark white in his peripheral stops Bob in his tracks at the top of the stairs. There are few things in this house he knows to be that color, that bright, and none of them even come close to making his blood rush through his ears like the sight before him does. Sunny stands twisting her body in the mirror in Phoenix's room, the older woman's dress uniform jacket pulled carefully over her shoulders. Bob can't help but watch her, his mouth slightly agape has he takes in her form, clad in stark white, his Ford t-shirt speaking out between the open buttons.

Suddenly, Bob is fighting against his own body to drag some sort of breath into his lungs.

There is a wave of jealousy that snakes through Bob at his core. If she's in anyone's dress whites, she should be in his. Bob knows Natasha poses no threat, and hell, he is acting like Sunny is his to protect when in reality she is almost the furthest thing from that. From him and his love and his hands. But still, there is a part of him that's thankful that the jacket is hers, if Sunny has to be in someone else's. For a moment, the thought of Sunny is Hangman's uniform flashes through the forefront of his mind, but he doesn't entertain it any longer than it takes for the anger to drift out to his fingertips.

The anger sits there, in his hands, beating under his fingernails and in the densest part of his palms. It's hot, searing, burning.

Bob is not a stranger to the feeling, to the yearning. No, it's second nature by now.

He is fighting for another breath, the ache somewhere between swallowed salt water and broken ribs.

Anger will not ruin this moment, Bob won't let it. Instead, he watches as Sunny's polished nails run over the pristine fabric, the lacquer only making the jacket look brighter. Bob takes in the subtle gleam in her eyes as she adjusts one of the cuffs. The wave of jealousy rolls through him again, this time, though, Bob wishes it was him under her well polished fingertips, so he could see the way the red of them pops out against his skin as she adjusts his cuffs.

He almost lets himself imagine it- Sunny helping him into his dress whites. Bob has been in the Navy long enough to not need help with a uniform, he can pin his own ribbon racks on and make sure his name plate is sitting straight on his chest. Bob doesn't need the help. Yet, he can almost feel the gentleness that would be Sunny's touch, buttoning up those tacky gold buttons. He swears, if he closes his eyes he can see Sunny smiling up at him, the bright white of the uniform shining in her eyes like sunlight and it would be beautiful.

And so he does. Bob closes his eyes right there, on the top landing of the staircase and lets himself imagine the way her fingers would bush over his uniform, too delicately, and how he would have to practice the upmost level of self control to keep himself from kissing all of that gentleness out of her.

He takes the image of Sunny, smiling up at him on Prom night, under the stars, and lets himself remember how she felt under his hands. How it felt to kiss her. The feelings ebb and flow through him, his imagination pulled completely out to sea. He can feel the way her rings would dig into his skin, like they had years before. That feeling has never been forgotten. He wants to know how it would feel for Sunny to run her hands down the fabric of his uniform- or how it might feel for her to unzip the impossibly long zipper of his flight suit.

Bob stops himself before his mind wanders too far- before he's unable to reign it in.

When Bob finally cracks his eyes back open, Sunny is standing there, her hands still on the crisp white fabric near the bottom of the coat, eyes meeting, gaze tangling with Bob's own. Her gaze is a bit more sad, or maybe grief stricken, but she no longer looks angry as she stares at him. His breath hitches, the strangled breath caught in the denseness of his chest, and like a deer caught in the headlights, he has nowhere to go. The only thing left for him to do is squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the impact. And yet, he can't even get himself to squeeze his fucking eyes shut. Not when Sunny's finally looking at him with such kindness in her eyes.

God, how Bob missed that look.

The way Sunny looks at him is like a rush of blood straight to his head; like turning three-sixty in the cockpit a few thousand feet in the air. But that he was trained for- this? Nothing could have prepared him for this. For the softness behind her eyes where he has only been met with sadness in meetings past. Then, Sunny quirks an awkwardly shy expression, the whole thing coming out a little bit sideways and so very guilty.

Neither of the pair is willing to speak first. Just the night before, Sunny couldn't keep her mouth shut and Bob wanted nothing more than to speak to her. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness. But now, they both stand in the cross fire of silence and desperate stares and it's not as heavy as either expected it to be.

The sick swarming feeling of anxiety is back in Bob's stomach, still raging but less sour than before.

When hasn't this girl, this woman before him, not made him anxious?

Maybe it's the softness of her eyes that quells it, or that guilty little grin that hasn't left her face even as the tinge of crushed raspberries takes over her skin. Bob tastes blood, the crimson invading his mouth from how hard he is biting his cheek.

His heart hits against the backside of his ribs, calling out to her hands once more, the feeling threatening to make him as dizzy as her perfume.

Silently, Bob slips her bag from his shoulder, taking a few steps closer to the bedroom door. He stops just outside of the jamb, still in the safety of the hallway. He brings a hand up to the jamb, leaning in just a little bit, just to get a little closer to her. Bob is chancing everything with this, as he leans, but he's do anything right in this moment if it meant he could be just that much closer with her eyes on him. Hell, he'd do anything to keep her smiling at him like that, even if it looks so damn guilty as it does nothing to cover up the sadness in her eyes.

Then, Sunny is moving towards him, still clad in that damn white coat, sad eyes, and guilty smile.

Bob's heart almost stops. The closer she gets, the more irradic it beats. He can see his Ford t-shirt under the open jacket and that's almost kills him.

But, his heart keeps beating, he keeps living, so he holds the bag out to her like a peace offering, though he could never use it as one. It dangles between them, the muscles in his arm flexing to keep the heavy duffle from meeting the floor. The look Sunny gives him almost brings him to his knees, a fit place for him to beg for forgiveness, though his tongue is dry and still in the prison of his mouth.

Then, her hand is reaching. Inch by inch, second by second, until her fingertips run over the back of his hand, so soft but still there, before grasping the strap in her own fist. He can't believe the moment that has just transpired between them; how soft her touch was or the fact that it was really her who touched him.

And again, Bob's heart calls to her hands like the moon calls to the waves and he is left wishing that it could be strong enough to pull them closer; until he is gifted with something just as sweet.

"Thank you, Bobby," The words leave Sunny's tongue as no more than a mere whisper, but Bob wouldn't have missed it. He couldn't have. Not when it was her words- not when it's her.

Words fail him again, but instinct kicks in and he is bringing his free hand up to his hat, nodding at her with a gentle touch to it's brim. Bob lets his fingertips graze over the brim just as soft as Sunny's touch grazed over his hand. The smile he is given lights his nervous system up, sending pin prick sparks dancing across the expanse of his body. Then, he is backing away, back towards the stairs.

Bob knows he has to get out of there, he just has to. There needs to be just one moment between them that isn't tainted. And Sunny smiled at him, in that fucking jacket that she had zero business wearing with his t-shirt underneath and it sent his mind reeling the closer she stood. So, he has to go.

The takes the first two backwards before finally turning his back to her, unable to fight the smile trying to claw its way into his face. In that moment he knew he finally murdered Dr. Jekyll, and the feeling of standing over the metaphorical corpse of a twisted doctor is almost as good as that smile of hers when it's directed right towards him.

When Natasha finally exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel in her hand as soaks up the water droplets that still fall from her hair, she is met with the sight of Sunny. She is still clad in Nat's coat, her duffle in her hand, staring out the doorway into an empty hallway. She stands so still, so quiet, Natasha thinks something might be wrong from the way the younger woman is just standing there. That is until she notices the smile on Sunny's lips and the doe eyed look that has taken over her features.

That makes Phoenix smile too, her expression filled with a little too much knowing. She can almost picture the way Bob must look, leaning up against something, with that damn cowboy hat in his hand, or maybe held against his chest to cage in the beating of his heart. He's wearing that same fucking smile, that same doe eyed, hopelessly, head over heels in love look.

Natasha want's to scream "go after him, you idiot!" but it's too soon, they need more time. Bob needs more time to figure out just how to make up for it all, and Sunny needs more time to trust again, to trust him again. Phoenix then notices the bit of sadness in the depts of Sunny's eyes.

"Sunny," Natasha's voice is quiet, in attempt to not spook the lovesick look of of her friends face. Sunny doesn't turn from the door, still staring hopelessly into the hallway. She mutters a "Yeah?" in response. "Did he walk away from you again?"

There is anger spiking through Natasha now, her fists balled, knuckles white.

"Yes,"

That's all Natasha needs to hear. Suddenly, she is pushing past Sunny, rage taking over her in an instant. Nat is already down the hall, leaving her standing there sputtering.

"Robert Floyd!" Natasha comes crashing into the living room. There is no answer from inside the house, so she turns, heading right for the front door. Sunny is clamoring down the stairs behind her, confusion and fear laced over her features.

"Nash!" Sunny is hot on her friend's heels, her duffle bag now thrown over her shoulder, as the door swings shut with a loud slam. The walls shake, the nob still vibrating as Sunny pulls the door open.

By the time Sunny makes it out to the driveway, Natasha is pulling Bob close by the collar of his shirt. Then, she is throwing him to the ground. His body hits the pavement hard; he winces, his glasses falling from the bridge of his nose. Bob opens his mouth to speak, but is met with a sharp right hook to the jaw. Then, a fist meets his nose.

It's not clear which is louder in Bob's ears, the crunching of cartridge or the small scream that manages to escape from Sunny. He can taste the blood, metallic and sharp in his mouth, leaking into the paces between his lips and gums.

"I told you not to hurt her again, Floyd," Bob is groaning, not in response but out of pain. He makes no effort to fight back as Phoenix drops on top of him, ready to hit him again.

But the punch never comes.

And then her weight is being dragged off of him, Phoenix protesting the whole time. Bob carefully brings his hands to his face, blood smearing all over his skin. It's already dripping from his chin, collecting in dark, angry patches on his shirt.

"What the fuck was that, Natasha?!" It's Sunny's voice that cuts through Bob's bleary state, his whole face wet. Sunny is still holding Natasha back, her hands pulling Phoenix's elbows together behind her back. He was just standing there, smoking, thinking about how fucking pretty Sunny looked in his shirt, and the way she touched him, and the next thing he knew, Natasha had him, and now he couldn't be more confused. This's an answer he wants to hear, too.

"He had one more chance, Sunny, and he fucking hurt you! What else did you expect me to do?" This is the most angry Bob had seen her, even after yesterday. Sunny doesn't exactly look surprised, but God, she looks hurt.

"No," The word is so stern it get's Phoenix to stop fighting against her grip. The anger is slowly simmering out of Natasha, and Sunny may as well have been absorbing it because she is fucking livid now.

"But he hurt you, Sun-"

"No," She starts again, letting go of Nat's elbows, only to put herself between her friend and Bob. Suddenly the aviators are wearing equally confused expressions, but neither dare interrupt Sunny's angry tirade. "First of all, Natasha, you do not get to come out here, acting like a goddamn fucking fool then turn around and use that nickname with me. When I told you to call me that, I thought we had an understanding. Be there for each other, not fight each other's battles," Sunny's pointing a finger in Natasha's face. She is inching closer and closer, and it's taking all of Nat's will not to slink away.

"Second, Bobby didn't do a goddamn thing. If you would've stuck around instead of going all Rambo, you might have found out what happened. We actually came to an understanding," Sunny's not sure if that's really what happened, or if an understanding is really something that could be reached between them, but it seems to be the best word to describe the complicated situation right now.

Natasha looks at the blindingly bright jacket on Sunny, now decorated with Bob's blood. The coat is ruined now, stained with anger and lines crossed. She glances down to her hands, taking in the bright crimson decorating her knuckles. Natasha feels sick.

"Third," Sunny takes her outstretched finger and tips up Natasha's chin with it, making the older woman look her in the eyes. Sunny pays no attention to the tears threatening to flood over her waterlines. "Look me in the eyes when I'm speaking to you. Even if he did hurt me, that doesn't give you the excuse to punch him, let alone break his nose! What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears are slipping from Natasha's eyes now, her lower lip quivering. She chances a look over Sunny's shoulder to Bob, who is still bleeding profusely from his nose. He doesn't try and stop the blood, instead to focused on the women in front of him and the way Sunny is defending his honor. Then, she is shaking her head, sidestepping Natasha and heading back for the front door.

Both Bob and Natasha watch her go. Nat is doing the best she can to hold in her tears, push them back down as she sniffles. Bob wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, already too coated in blood to really help anything. It just smears the blood further over the expanse of his rapidly bruising face.

When Sunny returns a moment later, she has two purses slung over her shoulder, an ice pack and a set of keys in her hand. She approaches Natasha, she is shoving the keys and the smaller of the two purses into the older woman's hands. Natasha sniffles again, taking the items from Sunny's hands without a word. Hell, even if Natasha knew what to say, she wouldn't have been able to peel the words from he tongue.

Then, Sunny is moving towards Bob. She kneels down, grabbing his now bent glasses from the pavement. Folding them up as best as she can, she places them on Bob's thigh. She is shucking the once crisp white coat from her shoulders a second later, wrapping the icepack in it before offering it to him as a sort of rag to help with all the blood. Bob takes it with a shaky hand. She guides it in his hand up to his nose. Sunny attempts to give him a reassuring smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Natasha is going to take you to the hospital," The words are sharp and loud, loud enough for Nat to hear. They are meant for her anyway. If Sunny's tone of voice didn't make him feel sick, the completely crushed expression on Phoenix's face would have.

With a quick squeeze of Bob's thigh, Sunny is moving away. As she stands, she swipes the still smoldering cigarillo from the ground, bringing it up to her lips. The look Sunny sends Natasha as she grabs her duffle bag from the grass sends chills down both her and Bob's spines. Then, Sunny's back is turned to the pair as she heads down the driveway.

The Aviators watch as she goes, turning down the street and slowly disappearing into the distance. Neither dare to move, dare to speak. After all, there is nothing to say, not when there is so much understanding between them now. Natasha knows now, how Bob felt at the Hard Deck as he watched Sunny walk away. Her anger clouded her eyes before, too focused on getting answers. But, she knows now, too, having watched Sunny walk away in a cloud of stolen smoke.

When Nat finally turns back to Bob, he looks at her with such empathy, and that fucking breaks her.

A strangled sob wracks through her from deep in her chest, clawing its way out of her throat as hot tears all but burn trails down her face. Then, Bob is holding a bloody hand out to her, beckoning her closer, to sit with him. So she does, the tears coming hard and fast, almost choking her. Bob wraps a comforting arm around Phoenix's shoulders, pulling her into him, a makeshift way to ground the both. She buries her face into the now crimson jacket as Bob rubs her back, letting her cry. As the sun gets higher in the sky, and the tears slow, neither attempt to move from their space on the concrete. Both are too weighed down from the day, from the fight, from watching Sunny walk away from their fucking mess.

And so, the pair sit on the pavement, up against Bob's truck, covered in slowly drying blood; watching the road that their girl disappeared down, just hoping, praying that she might turn back around.

#bob floyd angst #robert floyd angst #robert bob floyd angst #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #best friend phoenix #best friend natasha trace #once an asshole

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make-me-imagine · 2 years

Text

Top Gun Masterlist

(Main Masterlist)

If you notice any missing or incorrect links, let me know~

A/Ns: All fics are GN!Reader unless stated otherwise. Fics for the character Maverick are divided between which movie the fic takes place in/around.

Top Gun (1986)

Multiple Characters:

Scenario Match-Up Game

Christmas Scenario Game

Valentines Scenario Game

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss- Part One (fluff/romantic) *Iceman, Maverick

Incorrect Quotes

Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky:

Headcanons/Preferences:

'Iceman with an s/o who is always cold' (cute/gen)

First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Fics/Oneshots:

'The Future Awaits' (cute/humor/fluff)

'Expectations' (angst/comfort)

'Better Late Than Never' (angst/idiots to lovers)

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell

Fic: 'Perspective' (fluff/bit of angst/humor)

Headcanons:

First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Anniversaries with Maverick (cute/fluff/romantic)

--------

Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Multiple Characters:

Scenario Match-Up Game

Christmas Scenario Game

Valentines Scenario Game

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss - Part One (fluff/romantic) *Hangman, Rooster

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss - Part Two (fluff/romantic) *Fanboy, Bob, Phoenix, Coyote

Incorrect Quotes

Secret Santa (Choose Your Own Character Ending) *Possible Endings: Bob, Fanboy, Hangman, Rooster & Maverick

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Fics/Oneshots:

'Just Don't Go' (whump/angst/fluff)

Secret Santa: Part One (suspense/mild Christmas) Maverick's Ending (fluff/romantic)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Ship Drabble: 'Marriage Proposal' (cute/fluff)

Fics/Oneshots:

'Torture' (fluff)

'About Damn Time' (fluff/idiots to lovers)

'Stranded' (suspense/spooky/halloween)

Secret Santa: Part One (suspense/mild Christmas) Rooster's Ending (fluff/cute)

'Love is Stored in Post-It Notes' (fluff/Valentines Day)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Fics/Oneshots:

'Drunken Confessions, Sober Reminders' (humor/fluff)

'Home To Me' (cute/fluff)

'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not' (angst/slow-burn/fluff)

'What Happens in the Haunted House...' (fun/fluff/halloween)

Secret Santa: Part One (suspense/mild Christmas) Hangman's Ending (romantic/cute)

'In Your Dreams' (fluff/slight angst/valentines day)

'Scaredy Cat' (cute/fluff/crack)

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Fics/Oneshots:

'Halloween Party' (fun/fluff/halloween)

Secret Santa: Part One (suspense/mild Christmas) Fanboy's Ending (cute/fluff)

'Comfort of Home' (comfort/fluff)

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Mood Board: Bob Floyd x Cottagecore

Fics/Oneshots:

Secret Santa: Part One (suspense/mild Christmas) Bob's Ending (cute/fluff)

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

Javy "Coyote" Machado

Headcanons: First Date + First Kiss (fluff/romantic)

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petcr3 · 1 year

Text

petcr3’s RomCom Party! { a Valentine’s Day event }

Whether you’re celebrating Valentine’s with friends, a significant other, by yourself, or not at all, there’s one thing no one can resist… a good ol’ romantic comedy!

So to celebrate V-Day, I’m hosting a movie party! Send in the movie titles, guests, and snacks that correlate to your favorite tropes, characters, and extra flair! Feel free to be specific in what you’re looking for or let me take the reins! You can make a whole movie marathon or just come for the snacks, it’s up to you! While I can’t guarantee I’ll get to everything (and I’ll definitely be working on this stuff past February 14th) I’m really excited to be taking requests again!

Check out the options below!

The Guest List (aka who I’m accepting prompts for)

Top Gun: Maverick - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Reuben “Payback” Fitch, Robert “Bob” Floyd, Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia, Javy “Coyote” Machado, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Leverage - Tara Cole, Sophie Devereaux, Alec Hardison, Parker, Eliot Spencer

Stranger Things - Jonathon Byers, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler

The Amazing Spider-Man - Peter Parker (as played by Andrew Garfield), Gwen Stacy

Movies (aka tropes, scenarios, etc)

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days - Dating based on a bet! Specify whether you’d prefer the reader or the love interest to be the one making the bet. Otherwise, dealer’s choice!

13 Going on 30 - Childhood friends/Friends to lovers, perhaps a la the girl/boy/person next door trope!

Say Anything - Grand romantic gestures! Can be for any reason; specify if you like! Maybe a character wants to apologize or someone needs cheering up. Maybe even a love confession!

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World - This one’s all about exes. That could mean exes to lovers, a run in with an ex while out with a partner, or just a simple dating history conversation. If you feel called to, get creative!

Sleepless in Seattle - Anything long distance/related to being apart!

You’ve Got Mail - Enemies/rivals/frenemies to lovers!

Bridget Jones’s Diary - Love triangle or two (or more!) characters competing for someone’s heart!

My Best Friend’s Wedding - Love is in the air… somebody’s getting married! Who knows what could happen? Meet cutes, objections, love confessions, or whatever your heart desires!

No Strings Attached - When friends with benefits become something more!

The Proposal - All things fake dating! Green card marriages, making someone jealous, helping out a stranger at a bar, placating the family… it’s all on the table!

He’s Just Not That Into You - Not so unrequited love! Mutual pining, idiots to lovers, etc.

Never Been Kissed - This one’s for firsts! First kiss, first time, first date, first relationship! Can be a one-sided first (ie, character A’s first kiss ever) a mutual first (both characters have never had a serious relationship before) or a together first (first time the characters have been together).

It Happened One Night - Road trip! Is this a romantic getaway? Is someone running from a bad breakup? Is this just a fun drive between friends that blossoms into something more? You decide!

Snacks (aka extra plot elements/details)

Candy Hearts: a love confession occurs!

Chocolate Covered Strawberries: the story takes place on Valentine’s Day!

Popcorn: the characters sing karaoke (or sing along to any kind of accompaniment)

Pop Rocks: the characters fight! (And then make up because I said so)

Cotton Candy: any kind of hurt/comfort, whether it be emotional or of the whump variety

Bonus (aka flavor of fic)

Musical - Song Fic! Either choose a song or I’ll pick one that I think fits the vibe of your choices!

Rated R - Things get a little heated… (it’s smut)

Sequel - What it says on the tin! A sequel to a previous prompt reply!

Happy Valentine’s Day everybody! I can’t wait for you to join the party! 💘

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lewmagoo · 1 year

Note

For the Sleepover, can I request “I know it hurts, love. You’ll be okay.” (the first one from the Whump list) with Floydsin? 💖

it was bad. bob knew it was. he tried to hide his concern from jake, but it was futile. bob was terrible at masking his emotions. his face always revealed his feelings. but this instance was life or death, and bob was terrified. his hands were pressed against jake’s side, where a nasty wound was causing crimson to stain the dark green of his flight suit. they’d gone down together, with bob manning the backseat. he’d come out relatively unscathed, save for a pretty deep gash on his shoulder and some other cuts and bruises. but jake hadn’t been so lucky. there was no sugarcoating it; if he didn’t get help soon, he was going to die.

bob was trying to put as much pressure as possible on the wound to slow the bleeding. however, he couldn’t pretend jake’s growls of pain didn’t slice into his heart like a sharp dagger. “i’m sorry,” bob apologized, gazing into the blonde’s face. “i-i-i know it hurts, love. you’ll be okay.” but jake let out a breath, which may have been intended to be a laugh, but it was all he could manage. “will i?” he asked. bob closed his eyes for a moment. “you have to be. i need you to be,” he whispered in reply. jake groaned again, taking a shuddering breath. “stop lyin’ to yourself, bobby. it’s bad, i can see it on your face. i’ll pr-probably be gone before search and rescue even get a read on our location.”

but bob was unwilling to accept that. “no!” he cried. “no. don’t talk like that. i won’t let you die.” at which jake gave him a hard stare. “what, are you god now? you can suddenly stop death from happening?” there was more venom in his tone than he intended. he felt bad when it made bob cry. “please, stop. i don’t…i can’t…jake, i can’t lose you!” jake finally placed his hand over bob’s, quieting his cries. “bobby, you’ll be okay without me. i promise.” but how could jake say such a thing when bob felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest? he was losing the greatest love of his life and he was unwilling to accept it.

“please,” bob whimpered. “just hold on a little longer.” but he was fading fast. jake had always been so vibrant and intense and larger than life. but now, he seemed so small as bob held him in his arms. in fact, he looked more like a wounded little boy than anything. there were tears glimmering in his eyes. they slipped down the sides of his face. he was trying to be brave, but he was scared. and he knew he couldn’t hold on, not the way bob wanted him too. he was so weak, and he could not fight the inevitable. “l-listen to me,” he whispered. “i love you, bobby floyd. do-don’t you ever forget that.”

“i love you too!” bob wailed, afraid that if he didn’t say it, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. “but please, don’t do this! stay with me!” however, jake was already gone. his body grew heavier still in bob’s arms, and the other man knew there was nothing that could be done now. so he remained there, huddled over the one he loved, the one he’d always love, and he sobbed brokenly, like a wounded animal. and that was how search and rescue found him. they had to physically pull him away because he refused to let jake go. letting him go meant that this was real. jake seresin was dead, and bob was left behind to pick up the pieces of his own broken heart.

#asks #floydsin #this ran away from me #leah’s sleepover

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ohtobeleah · 7 months

Text

Poison Ivy // Bob Floyd

Summary: Bobs got the hots for the admirals assistant. Bad. So bad it makes him feral. But what happens when he gets the dosage wrong and messes the whole thing up.

Warnings: Drug Overdose. Spiked drink. Bob Floyd x F!reader. Mentions of date rape drugs. Man slaughter.

Word Count: 1.5k

Author Note: Happy Whumptober everyone! I’m so beyond excited to get to break your hearts for 31 days. So here’s to Day One of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Drugging. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“How’d you kill her Lieutenant!” Bob Floyd, with his big eyes and even bigger glasses sat in the police station held up in an interrogation room. He wasn’t talking—not without a lawyer. Sure he did it. He didn’t mean to, but still, he did it.

***~***~***~***~***

The human body is designed to compensate for loss. It adapts so it no longer needs the thing it can’t have.

But sometimes the loss is too great and the body can’t compensate on its own.

“Will you watch this for me?” It was common sense really, especially in this day and age, to not leave your drinks unattended at bars or clubs or restaurants. Your mother had taught you that. “I just need to use the bathroom real quick.”

“Oh yeah—“ Bob raised his brows as if he was shocked you were trusting him with such a thing. “Yeah sure thing Ivy.” You’d been enjoying a drink or two, or possibly even three after work with a few colleagues. Normally you wouldn’t indulge so frivolously—but the more you worked amongst the Aviators that called North Island home, you grew accustomed to Hangman's incessant pestering with that devilish panty dropping smile and Roosters charming aura that seemingly had you nodding along in agreement to a few fruity beverages after a long day in the Admirals office. “Not a problem.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.” And then there was Robert Floyd. The soft smiling, baby blue eye having, kind hearted soul who always had an empty seat available for you to perch yourself up on beside him. He was all encompassing, endearing even.

The time and energy he’d put into listening to you drone on and on about how your day wasn’t hard to notice. He always had time for you, no matter what.

As you got up, you leaned in to kiss Bob gently on the apple of his cheek. It was the simplest of gestures that you hoped he perceived as an intention for something more. You wanted Bob Floyd—

And he wanted you.

As you walked away Bob's eyes lingered down towards your drink, then back up to scan the expanse of the bar, then again to your drink. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest all the while he fished the small, glass bottle of rohypnol out of his pocket.

To be fair, Bob had tried to get you to go home with him in the past. He’d tried to give you small hints here and there but you just weren’t getting the hint. And there was just something stopping Bob from outright asking you to follow him out into the carpark so that he could take you home. His tongue always felt tied, so—the next best thing?

Spike your drink, get you a little giggly and easily influenced all so that Bob could feel what your velvet walls felt like clenching around him. He was no Hangman or Rooster, he didn’t have that confidence or the charming mannerisms. Bob was simply Bob.

And you should have known, it was always the quiet unassuming ones.

Bob watched your cocktail fizzle as the white substance settled to the bottom of the amber coloured liquid. He stirred the contents with the little black plastic straw and soon enough you’d never even know the beverage had been tampered with—and certainly the last person anyone would ever suspect would be the quiet and somewhat shy weapons systems officer that would bring you coffee in the morning and visit you during lunch.

He was going to fuck you tonight, wether you liked it or not. Bob knew that much for sure—he was done playing Mr. Nice guy. He was done waiting, tired of always being second to none. Bob wanted you and he needed you, bad. There was no negotiation. He wasn’t about to lose out again.

“You look a little paranoid there Floyd.” Hangman smirked as he let his hand fall to Bob's shoulder. Clamping down like a vice. “How’s things going with Ivy? You made a move yet?” It was no secret that you and Bob were in the beginning of what seemed to be a blooming romance.

At the sight of you coming back from the bathroom, Bob shrugged Jake's hand from his shoulder and sat up a little straighter, just a little taller as he sent you an all encompassing smile that ignited your nerve endings.

If only he knew how you felt about him.

“If you’d buzz off I’ll let you know in the morning.” Bob hissed over his shoulder and Jake left it at that. He didn’t press or stick around to see the train wreck unfold before his very eyes. He knew Bob didn’t have the guts to ask a lady of your callable to go home with him. Hell, Hangman was quite certain Bob was punching above his weight with you.

But if Jake had stayed, perhaps if he’d stuck around just five minutes more—you wouldn’t have taken a sip of your drink as you sat back down across from Bob at the small barstool table. Maybe you wouldn’t have gotten lost in the way the corner of his lips curled into only one of his cheeks as he sent you a half faced grin. If only Hangman had hung around, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed the burning taste in your mouth or the way Bob's eyes darkened when you saw the sediment at the bottom of your glass. Oh. Oh no.

“Bob?” You felt sick to your stomach as He reached across the table to place his hand atop yours. “You didn’t, did you?”

“I’m not gonna do anything you don’t already want.” Bob cooed, his thumb ran over your knuckles. “Come out to the car with me?”

“Oh—“ This couldn’t be happening. “No, no—I really don’t think I want to go.” Everything was beginning to spin as you tried to step down from the stool. “Bob?” It came out as a whine for help. Bob was at your side playing worried for his friends as he caught you, your knees felt weak and your feet felt like lead bricks. What was happening? Why, why would Bob do this to you? “I don’t feel good.”

“It’s alright, I got you.” Bob cooed as he helped you stand—he was quick to wrap your arm up and around his shoulder as your head lulled. Your neck felt weak, atrophied to the point where the muscles just simply couldn’t support the weight of your head any longer. Shit—this stuff worked quickly. “We’re gonna head out guys, Ivy’s not feeling all that great.” Bob explained without hesitation, the sad part was no one ever suspected a thing. “We’ll see you all Monday.”

“Atta boy Floyd!” Jake teased as he clapped Bob out of the Hard Deck, completely none the wiser as to what Bob had done. But it was always the quiet unassuming ones. It was a goddamn cautionary tale at this point.

“Come on baby, in we get hey.” Bob cooed as you felt you burning up, he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead as he tried to get your seatbelt done up. Safety first, as always. “You’re gonna be so good for me aren’t you? I’m gonna give you everything you need.” It was his lips against yours that really took your breath away as his digit’s slipped around your neck. You didn’t kiss back. You couldn’t do anything but whimper into him—which told Bob you wanted him. But in fact it couldn’t have been further from the truth. “Shit I dunno if I can wait till we’re home now that you’re making those pretty little sounds for me.” Bob could feel just how strained against his jeans he’d truly become. “Hold on—let me jump in the driver's side.”

You’re always so hopeful at the beginning of things. It seems like there’s only a world to be gained, not loss. And as you watched Bob open the driver's side door, everything was beginning to darken—you couldn’t hold your eyelids open. Couldn’t see, hear or think. All you knew was that this wasn’t right, it wasn’t what you wanted, that this wasn’t the Bob Floyd you thought you were falling in love with.

“Bob—help.” You couldn’t breathe. Your throat was so tight, you couldn’t get anything in. Couldn’t fill your lungs. “Please—help me.” People usually say that the inability to accept loss is a form of insanity. It’s probably true. Because as you took your last breath, all you saw was Robert Floyd.

Unbuckling his belt like the devil himself had whispered over his shoulder and had dared him to do it.

***~***~***~***~***

“I didn’t kill her.” Bob lied through those puppy dog eyes. “Someone must have spiked her drink! But it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

***~***~***~***~***

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines

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captain-bo-bob-bobby · 2 years

Text

Series & Picrews;

[ Picrew Links Here ]

Prompts & Drabbles;

[ Prompt Masterlist Link Here ]

[ Drabble Masterlist Link Here ]

About Me;

My profile picture (pfp) is from u/rattiemummy on Reddit; from her post on r/RATS. I do not own this photo.

My header/background image is of crocheted rats. It's also from r/RATS, posted by u/DB1_5. I do not own this photo.

I am u/captain_bo_bob_bobby on Reddit. I am Captain Bob on YouTube. This blog will have whump, rats, and a little bit of Groot.

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 1 year

Text

No Laughing Matter

Winter Whumperland: Day 3. Public Whump

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd, f!reader

Summary: Ever since the Dagger Mission, hanging out with your boyfriend's teammates has been a lot of fun. Until one night when a drunken Jake takes things too far and everyone discovers that there is more to Bob than anyone anticipated.

Word Count: 1914

TW: Public Embarrassment, Punch, Drunken Comments

Make Me Forget (Part Two)

Things had been different between the squad members since the Dagger mission. The tension and slight aggression you always felt between the Naval aviators seemed to have dissipated and everyone had been getting along as if they had been old friends for years instead of new team members or rivals just a few weeks before.

It made going to the Hard Deck with Bob more enjoyable. The first few times you visited your boyfriend there, the two of you spent most of the time alone in the back corner of the bar, practically hiding from his teammates. Now, you sat in the middle of the fun, surrounded by people Bob considered friends. And they had all welcomed you with open arms despite the fact you were a civilian.

Phoenix and you had bonded instantly, much to Bob’s delight, and it eased some of your worries knowing she was the one flying with Bob. Rooster had been one of the first to try and include you with everyone else and he always seemed like such a warm presence in the group. Fanboy constantly tried in vain to stump you with random movie trivia questions while Payback laughed at his frustration every time you answered correctly. Coyote offered to teach you how to play darts but after you accidentally impaled him, it was decided that maybe darts wasn’t for you.

And then there was Jake. For some reason, you just had trouble calling the man Hangman but he didn’t mind. He said he loved the sound of his name on your tongue. And that was part of the problem. Jake liked to flirt with you. A lot. It was all harmless and you never took it too seriously, but sometimes you did catch a certain look in his eye that made you think that maybe it wasn’t all that harmless after all. Not that his little pet names for you or his jokes about being in the wings if you ever changed your mind about Bob bothered you, but sometimes you wondered how serious he really was.

Though when at the Hard Deck, he was usually too preoccupied with other women to pay you much mind. When he returned from the Dagger mission, Jake did not want for attention from the female patrons. Once they heard that he had been the “savior” on the mission, rescuing two of his fellow pilots from certain death, they flocked to him like flies to honey.

None of the other aviators who were actually part of the mission really minded that all of the attention was focused on their friend instead of them. They just enjoyed watching Jake’s antics.

However, it had now been close to a month since the mission and things were changing. Jake had been playing the hero card for a while now, but it was slowly losing some of its power as the summer season at the bar began winding down and he was left with mostly the regulars to try and impress. However, there were only so many times they could hear about his rescue of Maverick and Rooster before the stares of astonishment and awe turned to eyerolls of “here we go again”.

And tonight seemed like a particularly bad night for Jake. You had noticed him trying to talk to a group of three or four women when you first walked in, though you hadn’t paid much attention. That is until about ten minutes after you sat down with Bob by the pool table, when the women all burst out laughing. All eyes in your group of friends went to Jake, whose face was a deep red as the women all turned to each other as they continued to laugh. Then you all watched as they grabbed their belongings and walked out of the bar.

Jake’s eyes shifted towards the pool table where everyone was still staring at him, and his face grew even redder. He quickly turned and stormed off to the bathroom.

None of you had been able to hear what had been said, but it was clear the women had been laughing at Jake. And when he finally exited the bathroom ten minutes later and stalked over to the group, everyone tried to pretend they hadn’t noticed anything had happened but the weird tension around the table made it clear they knew.

For the next hour, Jake sulked against the wall, downing drink after drink as everyone tried to keep their distance. Fanboy and Payback challenged Rooster and Bob to a game of pool while you and Phoenix chatted at your table, sometimes joined by Bob when someone else was taking their shot.

As Fanboy was taking his turn, you were telling Bob and Phenix an embarrassing story about something one of your coworkers had done earlier at work. As you got to the funny part, all three of you began to chuckle amongst yourselves.

“Something funny over there, Floyd?”

The group grew quiet as Jake pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps towards your table. You hadn’t seen Jake use that tone since before the mission. He had softened since then, still overly cocky and slightly arrogant, but not harsh or mean. Not like this. You exchanged a look with Phoenix which confirmed you weren’t the only one who noticed this shift in Jake’s behavior.

Bob straightened up from where he had been leaning on the table and looked at Jake. “No, we were just talking.”

“Yeah, I could hear that.” Jake’s eyes narrowed. His words seemed slightly slurred and there was no doubt he was drunk. “Seems like your girl there said something pretty funny. Care to share?”

You didn’t like being referred to as “your girl” but as you opened your mouth to say something, Bob placed his hand on your knee. His eyes were still locked on Jake, but you knew what he was trying to tell you. Stay out of this.

“Not much to share. She was just telling us something that happened at work.” Bob took a few steps towards the pool table. “I think it’s my turn.”

But as he reached for the cue that Fanboy offered him, Jake blocked him, his body only inches from Bob’s.

“You think you’re so much better than the rest of us because you have someone waiting for you when you go home at night. But don’t get too confident, she’ll wise up soon enough and move on to someone more on her level.” Jake glanced at you and winked before turning back to Bob with a smirk. “What a girl like her thinks she sees in you, I’ll never know.”

You tried to jump to your feet, but Phoenix dragged you back down. Leaning close, she muttered, “Don’t make this worse. He’s drunk and he’s embarrassed and those are not a good combination. Bob can handle himself.”

Bob took a deep breath and then said, “Listen, Bagman, I’m sorry if you can’t find someone who wants to put up with your bullshit, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about my girlfriend or my relationship like that.”

Your heart fluttered slightly. Of course Bob would ignore the fact that all of Jake’s insults were actually aimed at him and defend you instead.

Coyote placed a hand on Jake’s arm as he tried to get his friend to step away from the situation, but Jake yanked his arm free and took a step closer to Bob. Leaning in until his face was inches from Bob’s, Jake gave him a cocky grin. “One night, Bobbo. Just one night with me is all it would take for her to forget your name.”

Rooster had silently joined your table, and it took both he and Phoenix to keep you from leaping out of your seat and storming up to Jake. Yet, as fuming mad as you were, Bob seemed just as calm as usual.

He gave Jake a small half-smile. “Good luck with that, Jake.” Then he took a few steps back, signaling the end of the conversation.

You weren’t sure what tipped Jake over the edge. Whether it was the fact that Bob hadn’t seemed even the slightest bit rattled by anything he had said or if Bob’s comment and dismissal of Jake hit some nerve. Maybe it was even the fact Bob had called him by his real name. But the next thing you knew, Jake had wound back his fist and threw a punch.

What happened next was so fast that it took you a minute to process that it had even happened. One second, Jake was swinging his arm wildly, his fist aimed directly at Bob’s head. And the next second, Bob effortlessly ducked under the incoming limb and drove his fist directly into Jake’s solar plexus. Jake’s eyes bulged as he crumpled to the ground with a loud groan.

The bar fell completely silent save for Jake’s gasps for air. Bob’s eyes flickered around the room quickly before he gave everyone a tight-lipped smile and a small nod. Then he walked back over to your table and picked up his drink, oblivious to your slack-jawed staring.

Rooster was the first one to regain his senses. “Woah, Bob! What the hell was that?”

Bob shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “I have a lot of older cousins who like to play rough. I learned a few things.” Taking one final drink from his water, he turned to you. “Are you ready to go?”

You could only manage to mutely nod before Bob took your hand. As he began to lead you out of the bar, you looked over your shoulder at Phoenix, your eyes screaming what just happened? She held up her hands in utter confusion and shrugged. Apparently, you weren’t the only one surprised by this other side of Bob.

It wasn’t until he had walked you halfway to the car that you finally snapped out of your daze. Using the fact your hands were still connected, you yanked him back into you, causing him to stumble slightly. Before he could ask what was going on, you slammed your lips against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You felt him stiffen in surprise but he soon melted against your embrace, returning your kiss with a similar intensity as his hands rest on your hips, drawing you in even closer. The two of you continued to make out in the middle of the parking lot, oblivious to the stares of the other bar patrons walking to their cars. It wasn’t until someone honked and cat-called that the spell was broken.

Pulling back, you grinned as you noticed his glasses were slightly askew. Straightening them for him, you place one more quick kiss on his lips before sliding your hand into his once more.

“What was all that about?” Bob asked breathlessly.

“Do you have any idea how hot that was in there? The way you took Jake down with just a single punch?”

Bob’s face grew a bright red as he muttered, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“No, it was a huge deal.” Your eyes roamed over his body quickly then you began practically dragging him towards the car.

“Woah! Slow down,” Bob said as he struggled to keep up. “What’s the hurry?”

You stopped and looked over your shoulder at him. “Either we get home in the next few minutes, or I am blowing you in this parking lot.”

Part Two out now!

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @merlehs, @green-socks, @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @topguncortez, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @hederasgarden, @callsign-phoenix, @wildbornsiren, @lt-natrace, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @joalsglasses, @curlyolly, @nobody7102, @footprintsinthesxnd, @thesewordsxlibrary, @double-j, @phoenix1389, @some-lovely-day

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #public whump #fic #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob #bob x reader #f!reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin #lewis pullman #public embarrassment tw #punch tw #drunken comments tw

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

A Mistake

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd, f!reader

Word Count: 2614

TW: Fluff, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Fighting, Hangman isn't the best guy

Top Gun Masterlist

One minute everything is peaceful and calm, and then the next minute chaos erupts. Suddenly, the entire group of Top Gun trainees in the corner of the bar all jump to their feet. From behind the bar, you don’t have a clear view of what is going on, but you can hear shouting and see limbs flailing about as everyone scrambles to stop whatever is happening. You quickly rush over to the scene of the fight but there is so much commotion, you can’t see what is going on in the middle.

Remembering what Penny told you to do when these rare instances occurred, you ran back to the bar and grabbed the military-style whistle from the hook under the register. Hurrying back to the fray once more, you get as close as you can and then blow the whistle as loudly as possible.

A shrill, high-pitched screech fills the bar and all the trainees instantly stop their fighting to cover their ears. You hold the note for as long as you can and then an eerie silence falls across the bar. Taking a deep breath, you shout, “I don’t care who started it, I don’t care who was involved. You know the rules. You have fifteen minutes to collect your things and pay your tabs, then I want all of you out!”

The trainees all grumble under their breath and shoot you dirty glances, but you know they all feared what Penny might do to their bar tabs if word got back to her that they disrespected you. So, you motion to Jimmy, who had just come out of the back, to go behind the bar and ring everyone out for the night. Once he nods, you turn back to the few men still picking themselves up off the ground.

At the center of the fight, you see to no surprise that Hangman is brushing himself off as he gets to his feet. His hair looks a little tousled and there is a single red mark on his jaw that will probably turn into a bruise, but for being in the middle of the fight he seems remarkably fine.

Bob is still laying on the floor, a soft moan escaping his busted lips as he shifts slightly. Instantly, you drop to your knees and begin examining him. His glasses are bent and askew but at least they seemed to be unbroken. His bottom lip is split wide open causing a trail of blood to run down his chin. There are a few marks on his cheek and jaw that you are almost certain will turn into nasty-looking bruises in a few days’ time. And those are just the injuries you can see. He is clutching his hands pretty tightly to his side and you just hope the damage there isn’t too bad or he will need to go to the hospital.

Rooster kneels down next to you, and you can see someone got one or two good hits on him too, but he seems fine for the most part. “Hey, Bob. Are you okay?”

The WSO slowly opens his eyes and stares up at the two figures leaning over him. When he seems to recognize you, he struggles to sit up, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” But the tight grimace of pain that shoots across his face tells a different story.

You place one hand gently on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Why don’t I look you over in the back to make sure everything really is fine?”

“I don’t want to cause you any more trouble,” he says softly, glancing at the floor.

You try giving him a reassuring smile, but since he refuses to look at you, you doubt he sees it. “No, it’s no trouble at all.” Turning to Rooster, you ask, “Can you help me get him to his feet?”

The pilot nods as you both carefully grab one of Bob’s arms and ease him to his feet. Bob is still holding his side and you can see he is favoring one foot, but he is able to stand on his own. As you give him another smile of encouragement, you hear Hangman behind you as he whispers something to Coyote, and both men chuckle. You glance over your shoulder and shoot them a dirty look, but Hangman just grins and winks at you.

As forcefully as you can while still trying to remain professional, you say, “I think I said everybody out. That includes you two.”

Hangman doesn’t break eye contact as he pulls a fresh toothpick from his pocket and slips it between his lips. Then he gives you a small nod and purrs, “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You resist the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes at him as he brushes past you, his hand briefly skimming across your arm. But as soon as they are gone, you turn all of your focus back to Bob. There is still a small crowd of people around the bar trying to pay, so you say, “Here, come with me.”

You wrap one of his arms over your shoulder and give Rooster a nod of thanks. “I’ve got it from here. But I appreciate your help. Don’t worry about your tab tonight, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind paying or sticking around if you need the help. Plus, I was Bob’s ride.”

“No, it’ll be okay. Jimmy can handle the cleanup out here while I look after Bob. And I pass the base on my way home. I can drop him off.”

“Okay. Thanks. But call me if something changes or he needs a ride.”

You give him a big smile. “Thanks, Rooster. I will.”

Once he exits the bar, you help Bob limp into the back office. Penny is out with Mav tonight so you know no one will bother you two back here. Once inside, you help him over to the couch and ease him onto the cushions.

“Okay. What hurts the most?” you ask, your hands on your hips as you look down at him.

“You don’t have to do this. I appreciate it, but I can look after myself,” Bob mumbles.

“I know you can. But I was in charge tonight and I feel partially responsible for what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve this.” Bob glanced down at his feet as his words grew even softer.

You tap his knee gently. “It’s not that big of a deal, Bob. I’m just going to look you over really quick and then I can take you home. Okay?” He nods slightly. “Good. Now, let’s get started.”

You begin by examining his ankle and side since there isn’t much you can do for either except assess the severity of the injuries. Neither looks too bad, though he might have trouble walking for a while and his side is going to be aching for quite some time. You give him an ice pack for each and it seems to help a little.

Next, you grab a fresh towel from the closet, sit down next to him on the couch, and start to wipe the blood off his chin. When you get to his lip itself, he hisses in pain as you dab it.

You quickly pull away. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be. I appreciate your help. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, you already said that. But I get to spend more time with you this way.” You playfully nudge his arm as he blushes deep red.

Gently, you start to clean the cut on his lip again and though he still flinches slightly, he holds himself in place long enough for you to finish cleaning it up. As you examine it, he asks, “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

“My mom was a Navy nurse her whole career. That, plus I had three older brothers who liked to play rough. Between the two, you pick up on a lot of things.” Sitting back, you say, “I don’t think anything looks too badly injured, though that foot might cause you some problems for a few days. Do you think you’ll be okay to fly tomorrow?”

“As long as I can still see, I’ll be fine. After all, I don’t really need to use my feet once we’re in the air.”

“No, I guess not. But then let’s make sure your vision isn’t going to be impaired with the damage to your glasses.”

You carefully remove the wireframes from his face. The bridge of the glasses is bent where it had been driven roughly into his nose and you can see a fairly deep gash there where the force had broken his skin.

As you tenderly begin cleaning the wound, you finally ask, “So…. are you going to tell me what the hell happened? Both Hangman and Rooster seemed involved. Were they going at it again?”

Bob tries to turn away, but you are holding his chin firmly in place. “It was nothing. Just some things were said that shouldn’t have been said and someone got upset.”

“I guess that’s not too unusual in a bar. When drinks get poured, tongues get loose and people get bolder. And why doesn’t it surprise me Hangman was involved in saying something stupid. But how did you get caught up in the middle of things? Wrong place, wrong time?”

Bob stares down at the floor as his face and the tops of his ears turn bright red. He mumbles something but you can’t quite make it out. “I’m sorry, I missed that.”

A little louder, Bob repeats, “I was the one who got upset.”

Slowly, you lower the towel you are holding and stare at him in confusion. “Wait, you got upset? Are you telling me you threw the first punch? At Hangman?!” He nods slowly, not able to look you in the eye. “Why? He says terrible stuff to people all the time. What could he have possibly said to make you attack him?”

“It doesn’t matter. He said it, I lunged at him, and you saw the rest. Obviously, it was a stupid idea seeing as I’m the one back here getting patched up, and he’s out there probably bragging about it, but it happened and now it’s over.”

“Bob, whatever he said must have really bothered you. Let’s talk about it. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.” He still refuses to look at you, and suddenly you realize why. “Oh…. It was about me.”

Slowly, he lifts his gaze. “How did you know?”

Now it’s your turn to look away. Standing up, you walk over to Penny’s desk and lean on it heavily, your back to Bob. Finally, after a moment of silence, you say, “I made a mistake a few years ago. I… I slept with Hangman the last time he was training at Top Gun.”

“Yo-you what?” Bob’s voice is full of astonishment, but what really breaks your heart is the slight anger and disgust in his tone.

“As I said, it was a mistake. He was charming and attractive, and I knew it was just a little fun, only a one- or two-time thing and nothing more. But afterward….” You turn to face the couch. “He just likes reminding me it happened. I never had any feelings for him or anything, but anytime he finds a new girl to hook up with or sees me flirting with someone else, he tends to make some not-too-subtle comments about us. Like he’s rubbing it in my face.”

Bob puts his glasses back on and gazes at you. “That’s horrible. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t think he does it to be hurtful. He’s not a terrible guy, he’s just selfish and arrogant and doesn’t like to lose. I think he was expecting me to come crawling back to him for more after a few days and when I didn’t, it was a blow to his ego. So, he reminds me of what happened between us whenever he gets the chance. I usually ignore him or brush it off as teasing but sometimes he does go a little too far. So, I can imagine what he might have said tonight after all those drinks he was downing and then seeing me flirting.”

“Huh. I didn’t notice you flirting with anyone tonight.”

You chuckle warmly as you walk back over to the couch. “Yeah, that was pretty obvious.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t say anything, and it takes him almost two full minutes to finally get it. “Wait! You were…. With me?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying for almost a week now. I didn’t know what else to do. But I guess Hangman finally noticed and that’s why he said those things about me to you. It really means a lot that you would stick up for me like you did. I’ve never had someone fight for my honor before.” However, you then thought back to the anger and disgust in Bob’s voice when you told him what you had done. “But I guess if you would have known the truth, you wouldn’t have.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The fact I slept with Hangman. When I told you, I could hear in your voice how you felt about it. About me.” You start to turn around, but he grabs your hand.

“What? No! Tha- that wasn’t about you! I swear! I just couldn’t believe that Hangman would sleep with someone and then say the things he did tonight. It made me even angrier knowing that it wasn’t just him being crude. That he actually…. But I promise I wasn’t judging you. Who hasn’t had a date or hook up that they regret?”

Now it is your turn for your eyes to grow wide in surprise. “Wow! I wasn’t expecting you to say that, but good to know.”

Bob blushes again. “I know I’m not as confident as some of the other guys here, but that doesn’t mean I’m totally unable to get a date.”

“I mean, I’ve been giving you signals for a week, and you haven’t made a move, so I was starting to have my doubts.” You glance at the clock and sigh, “Well, it’s getting late. And now that you’re all patched up, I guess I should take you home.”

You help him to his feet before helping him limp out to your car.

As you drive, you chat about where you grew up and how you ended up working at The Hard Deck while Bob tells you why he had wanted to join the Navy. It feels easy and comfortable, and you don’t want it to end.

But eventually, Bob points to a sign up ahead. “Um, you might want to start slowing down. The base is coming up on the right.”

You don’t respond. In fact, you just press down harder on the gas pedal. Bob’s head whips around as you blow past the entrance to the base. “You missed the turn.”

“No, I didn’t. I said I was taking you home. But I never said who’s home.” You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and are thrilled to see him beaming next to you. Reaching over, you take his hand and give it a tight squeeze.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want there to be any regrets later like with Hangman.” Bob asks as he squeezes your hand back.

You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “No. With you, it could never be a mistake.”

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