#But I’ve never done it with the pilot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

espinosaurusrexex · 1 month

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Remember Me

WinterSoldier!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: After a fight against the most notorious Hydra agent of all, Steve and you discover that your assumed diseased friend Bucky is still alive. Old wounds resurface as you are confronted with the grappling reality that you have lived vastly different lives for the past 70 years. Will he remember your shared history? And most importantly: does he still feel the same?

word count: 3.1k

a/n: Just a short piece that I managed to finish. I know it's not a lot, but I hope you enjoy anyway 💕

warnings: a bunch of fluff and angst, mentions of war, mentions of sexism, swearing, Bucky is really broken in this one, happy ending (:

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Proceed with caution, unidentified shooter on bridge. I repeat: unidentified shooter. It is not clear what the motive is. Take cover and shoot on sight.”

“Dispatch, this is Captain America - we’ll take it from here.”

“With all due respect, Cap, I will keep my men on site to keep your cover.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Least I can do for you, sir.”

“Stop chatting it up with the police and do your job, Rogers.”

“Alright, alright.”

You chuckled and turned to Tony. “How long are we out?”

“Three minutes, 46 seconds.”

“You gonna survive that long, Stevie?”

“That guy’s got a good aim on him, gotta give him that.”

Muffled noises pushed through your earpiece before you stepped into the back of the Quinjet to gear up.

“Can’t let him do anything. It’s one guy they’re fighting... one.”

“Yeah, one Hydra-trained assassin who’s apparently immortal and got more deaths on his record than Romanoff.”

You huffed as the meeting recollected in your mind. The Winter Soldier had been the newest pain in the Avenger’s asses ever since you discovered that Hydra was still operating in the shadows of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“They’re just making a show out of everything, huh?”

You strapped your gloves over your wrists and watched as Tony chuckled in the pilot seat. You and him had become good friends over the past few years. Ever since you and Steve had been discovered in the frozen airship of what you had thought to be your last mission about 70 years ago, you and Captain America had woken up in a vastly different world. One through which Howard’s son, Tony, gladly guided you.

Both you and Steve were overwhelmed by the amount of changes the world had endured while you had soundly served your time as human popsicles, though Captain America seemed to struggle a little more with 21st-century technology and norms.

It was fine, Steve had always been a little old-fashioned, even back in the day. You for one were delighted to learn about all the opportunities the world had to offer for women and other people who couldn’t have dreamed of any in the 40s. Because while Steve was celebrated for being the face of hope for the American people, you were still dodging snide comments doubting your place in the Army. And while you tried not to let anyone see the toll it took on you, it was the reason for enough nights you spent with Peggy sharing stories over a bottle of wine.

You both decided the important men in your life should never find out. Though, of course, your not-so-secret didn’t stay hidden from Bucky for long. Which was one of the reasons you had jumped on that plane with Steve. Even when Bucky was already dead. Even when Steve was still oblivious. You constantly needed to prove yourself. But this one time, it had actually changed something – well, time had.

You shook your head free of that thought and walked towards the cargo hatch. Tony had landed the Quinjet – it was go time.

“Ready?”

“That guy won’t know what happened to him when we’re done with him.”

“Let’s rock his world, then,” Tony winked before his helmet closed and he flew out of the jet. You were close behind him, running the short distance from the ramp to the bridge from which you swung yourself off with a grappling hook.

“What’s the status?”

“I’ve been shot.”

“I’ve got it, Bearcat check on Steve. He looks ridiculously helpless.”

“Roger that,” you sprinted towards the two fighting men on the street, as the Winter soldier threw Steve to the ground, his shield nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, my turn.” You stepped in front of him, analyzing his movements, and dodging punches, trying to get some in yourself.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair.” You huffed when he took a knife out of your leg holster and almost acrobatically threw it over your head just to graze your cheek with the blade.

He had knocked off your guns at this point, leaving you with choking wire and some smaller daggers in your jacket. When he turned the right angle, you jumped his shoulders and locked your thighs around his neck, kicking the knife out of his hand and watching as he ripped your choking wire in half. Damn.

“Now, that’s not nice.” You threw the torn metal to the side as The winter soldier struggled to get you off him. A look to Steve told you he had a new plan, and with a short nod, you signaled your understanding to him.

“But if you wanna be like that...” Steve threw you his shield and in a swift motion you managed to drag it over the soldier's head. He pushed his metal arm forward just in time, though your hit had already knocked the mask off his face.

When the shield came down, you heard Steve’s footsteps halt next to you, the world going quiet.

Your stomach churned when you watched blue eyes twitch between the dark smudges. Familiar and oh-so strange at the same time.

“Bucky?” Steve stammered, and at the sound of his name, goosebumps rippled over your skin.

The Winter Soldier’s look darkened before he reached for a gun. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

From then on, the day seemed like a blur. You remembered Sam knocking Bucky down and the lot of you flying back to the compound on standby. Steve was functioning a lot better than you were, considering the man you thought to be dead for over 70 years was currently handcuffed to a handrail on your jet.

James “Bucky” fucking Barnes. Captain America’s best friend, founding member of the howling commandos, infamous war hero apparently turned assassin, and the man who stole your heart somewhere along the way.

You dared a glance at the chained-up, unconscious brunette in the corner as Steve sat down next to you, a calming hand squeezing your shoulder.

“Can I get you anything?”

You ignored him. “How are you not freaking out?” You whispered through glassy eyes instead.

Steve’s expression softened when he pulled you into his chest, his other hand pressing your head further into him. His heart was hammering beneath his ribcage, his fingers cold to the touch.

“I am. Just trying to be a captain.” His voice was strained when he mumbled into your hair.

You just nodded in understanding, finding comfort in the fact you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

❁ ❁ ❁

You watched him through the glass of the interrogation room with your arms crossed before your chest. Buck was sitting at the table, his head hung low, his dark hair falling in wet stands into his face. He didn’t move a muscle. For half an eternity, he stared at the table his wrists were chained to, almost statue-like. But when he finally looked up, you could see the confusion and nervousness in his ocean-blue eyes.

They had given him time to recover, to shower, and feel like a human again. They forced him into normal clothes and offered him a bed to sleep. But it wasn’t enough. The man you were looking at was terrified and lost - exhausted and overwhelmed.

Bucky visibly tensed when the door opened and Steve stepped into his sight. They spent the next hour reconstructing his past. Steve told him how he had ended up in the 21st century and by the end of their conversations, the tension was a lot less static.

“She’s alive,” Bucky stated and tore his eyes away from Steve to look at the one-way glass.

“She’s a tough one. Survived the crash without super soldier serum and came out of the ice just as unharmed as I did.”

“What are the odds?” Bucky chuckled bitterly. “What are the fucking odds we all end up together again?”

Steve only gifted his friend a sympathetic smile along with a squeeze to his shoulder. “Take it as a chance.”

“Feels like a punishment.”

They were locking eyes and even though you were watching the interaction from the outside, you could feel the atmosphere turn somber. The men were staring at each other in silence for a while, though you knew there was an entire discussion happening in their eyes.

“Does she... does she want to see me?” Bucky’s voice was hesitant and broken. And you couldn’t help but somehow imagine a different question nestled in his words.

You almost had to stop yourself from touching the glass with your hands, wanting to tell him that you were already seeing him - really seeing him.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Steve stood and with a last smile to Bucky, he exited the room.

This was it. The door was open. The love of your life sitting only a few feet from it. Though it seemed like he was trapped inside another’s body.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Steve murmured as he stood in the doorway looking at you by the window. And you just nodded, trying to suppress your pulse rushing in your ears.

“Thanks.” It was only a whisper. You weren’t used to your voice being this small. And Steve didn’t seem so either. He was looking at you with sad eyes, fists clenched by his sides. There was nothing he could do to make you feel better. Not this time. And he seemed to know so. With one last tight smile, he sent a short nod your way and then left.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky didn’t look at you when you finally built up the courage to step inside his room. He was much bigger than you remembered. Thick muscles adorned his arms and shoulders. Shaggy, longer hair fell from his head and over his scrunched brows. His left arm was entirely of metal, a red star reminding him who had taken claim to him several decades ago.

If you hadn’t known, the man before you had almost no resemblance to the soldier you loved in 1941. He had been lean and full of life. He was broken now. And you were terrified someone had taken the very thing from him that would keep him from becoming himself again.

Without a word you approached Bucky, cupped his hands with yours, and undid the restraints that tied him to the table. And this was the first time he looked at you. Really looked at you. Bucky’s piercing blue stare was full of awe and sorrow, a deep pain etched beneath the grey flecks within the vibrant color.

You sat down beside him.

“Hey.” Your voice was shaky, dragging a long silence in its wake that only made your heart beat faster.

“Hello,” Bucky finally whispered, breaking the spell. His voice was a raw timbre, like a long-forgotten melody. And so much more tangible now that you weren’t listening to it through a speaker.

But that was it. Neither of you spoke afterward.

There was so much that could have been said, so much that could have been exchanged, known, explored about the other. And yet it didn’t feel like any of the words known to you were enough to break the static tension in the room. You were just looking at Bucky, scanning every part of his body like it was a flash card for the most important test of your life.

So, here you were: With the opportunity of a lifetime right at your fingertips and the confidence of a kicked puppy settled deep in your wounded soul. The person you had known for the longest looked so timid as if he were looking at a stranger. Not that he had ever been shy about strangers back in the day. But this was different. This was strange and beautiful, and scary, and exciting. No book in the world held the answers as to what to do in this situation.

And the solution was so easy: you just had to say something. So why didn’t your damn mouth open?

The speaker above your heads crackled and then Tony’s voice rang through the room. And for the first time in what felt like hours, a tiny bit of the weight on your shoulders lifted with it. “Bearcat, If you don’t open your mouth and put the guy out of his misery in 5 seconds, I’ll personally mediate this incredibly static confrontation.”

You rolled your eyes and then glared at the mirror, knowing full well Tony was watching you despite your asking him to leave. You mouthed a ‘shut it’ towards the glass and then turned in shock when a familiar voice rose from the silence.”

“Bearcat?”

You stared at Bucky with soft eyes. There was an innocence in the way he slowly guided this conversation - almost like he’d always had. It was an easy question, a nice entry to the heavier stuff that was bound to be discussed.

And just as you began to explain, it dawned on you how much you had missed about each other. How differently your life could have been if it weren’t for the cruel turn of fate.

“When Steve and I were discovered, S.H.I.E.L.D. was our home for a long time. They tried to put us in apartments, even set us up with chaperones to guide us through the new century.” Bucky looked intrigued, even leaning forth as he listened intently. You wondered if he ever realized how much time had passed when he was the winter soldier... if anyone ever cared to tell him. “But it wasn’t until I met Natasha that I felt like I had arrived. She showed me so many things and trained with me until I became an agent here. Howard’s son came up with the nickname. He reminds me of him.” You smiled and shook your head “He’s a pain in my ass but a genius that can be genuinely helpful even though I don’t want to admit it at times. I haven’t grasped the explanation fully, but apparently, my fast learning and efficiency when it came to fighting reminded him of one of those small powerful fighter jets that were finished just after the war.” You chuckled at the memory before your eyes found Becky’s again only to see pain all over his face.

A silent tear rolled down his cheek and hit the floor before you could see it stain his skin. “I'm so sorry.” His voice was shaking, his body trying to make itself smaller but failing miserably with all the muscle surrounding it. He took up the room and your heart right along with it.

“Hey you have nothing to apologize for, you hear me.” You cradled his face and his hands instantly covered yours, only for his metal one to retract just as fast again. He was sorrowful and it made your heart ache.

“You’ve been navigating through so much alone and this is yet another thing you had to do without me.” He confessed through his tears and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t changed within - always caring for everyone around him and never putting himself first.

“I’m fine. Was then and am now.” You ensured him. “If you want to worry about someone, take Steve. He’s a lot more overwhelmed than I am.” Bucky chuckled through his tears, a deep seriousness settling in his eyes. “If anything, I’m sorry we didn’t save you sooner.”

He shook his head. “You couldn’t have known.” And there it was: a glimpse of the loving, caring, charming man you’d known so many years ago. A small smile snuck onto your face at the revelation and a spark of hope shot through your body.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you confessed, "We never had the time to actually be just us. To live all the dreams we shared back then.”

Bucky's eyes were full of sorrow before he closed them and pressed his forehead to yours. “I wish I could say I missed you,” he whispered and slung his arm around you, “But I didn’t remember.”

“And that’s not your fault, you hear me.” Your hand stroked over his damp hair, pulling it back and making Bucky look at you again. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever doubt yourself. What happened to you is horrible. And I vow to kill every single person responsible for keeping us apart for this long. But not once will anyone ever consider this your fault.”

Bucky averted his eyes and turned his head but you were quick to catch his face with your hand. “Promise me you won’t beat yourself up. Please. That’s all I ask of you. Let Steve and me handle the rest and focus on becoming comfortable in your skin again. I can’t wait to meet the man you can become.”

“You don’t want to know me, doll. Not anymore. Even if it wasn’t my fault, it changed me. I’m not the man you-“ he stopped talking as you watched regret flash over his features. “I don’t think I can give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t care what I deserve, Bucky. I want you. I always have and that won’t change because some bullies tried to brainwash you. The very fact that we are here talking like this shows how much stronger you are than them. How the good in you never wavered.”

“But I can’t even trust myself. How can I expect you to do so of me?”

You cradled his head harsher as you felt your own tears roll down your cheek. “All I need is for you to try and trust me. We’ll figure this out... like we always do.”

Bucky’s flesh hand had fallen to your thigh, a soft thumb stroking over your leg and he watched the movement in awe. You didn’t know how long it had been since he had last felt comfort but you were determined to make up for all the lost time. With the wild beating of your heart, you took his metal hand and laved your fingers with his, watching as Bucky’s eyes glued to your smaller hand in his. There was no fear of what could happen, no aversion towards the alien element attached to his body. And then, finally, he encased your hand with his silver fingers.

Your other hand still stroked his cheek and you waited until he caught your gaze again. And once he did, you did not hesitate to slowly push your lips to his.

Just a short, sweet kiss. One that held more words than you could ever say. And then you waited. What for? Maybe a rejection, the shake of his head, or the sheer confidence with which he used to kiss you decades back.

Bucky’s breaths were shaky, his hands still touching you and sending softly timid comfort through your body. He held your gaze for a second... and then, he finally kissed you back.

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thewulf · 3 months

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 month

Text

Sky High.

(pilot!harry x airhostess!yn)

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here x

in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

word count - 2.8k

"So, which lucky city are you off to today?"

Cabin crew had always been a passion of yours since you were a child.

When you were young, you used to adore gazing at the impeccably dressed flight attendants as they moved gracefully through the aisles of the plane. That longing to be among them, to embody the essence of professionalism and hospitality, never wavered, even as you grew older.

So when you turned eighteen, and were fresh out of college, you signed up for flight attendant school and not once have you looked back.

The course took ten weeks and they were the best of your life, because at the end of it, you gained your wings and was ready to fly.

That was when you met Samia, your bestest friend, the two of you were in the same cabin crew training classes and had practically been inseparable ever since, it was a friendship that was made to last.

You and Samia make your way through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, where families were executed to finally have a nice holiday that they had waited all year for and people who were solo-travellers ready to embark on a boring old work trip.

With a grin, you respond, "New York, simply feels like forever since I’ve been there.”

Samia feigns a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ugh, why do you get all the fun flights? I'm just headed to Dublin."

You chuckle at her mock disappointment. "Hey, Dublin's pretty great too!”

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I guess you're right. But next time, I'm definitely snagging that New York flight!"

You nudge her teasingly. "Deal!

As you and Samia continue your leisurely stroll through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, she suddenly stops in her tracks, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

"Wait, did you say you're heading to New York?" she asks, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

You nod in confirmation, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I've got a three-day layover there before heading back. Why? What's up?"

Samia's eyes light up mischievously as she leans in closer. "You know who the pilot is, right?"

You shake your head, curious about her sudden intrigue. "No, who is it?"

With a smug look on her face, Samia leans back, relishing the moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Captain Styles," she says, her voice laced with amusement.

Just like that, your eyes widen.

The dim lights of the party cast a warm glow over the room as chatter and laughter filled the air. You stood at the bar, holding an almost empty drink, observing the festivities around you. It was a celebration for the graduating pilots and cabin crew, and the excitement was palpable.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the noise, and you turned to see a handsome young man approaching you. His brunette hair had a slight curl to it, and he wore an open t-shirt with only the bottom buttons done up, showcasing his tattoos along his chest and right arm. He flashed you a charming smile that set your heart racing.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "M’Harry. Can I get you another drink?"

His flirty demeanor caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but be intrigued by his confidence and his striking appearance.

With a smile, you accepted his offer. "Sure, that would be great. Thanks."

As he ordered the drinks, Harry leaned in closer, his playful banter making your heart flutter. "So, what brings you to this party? Celebrating y’graduation as well?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention. "Yeah, I just finished my cabin crew training. It's been quite the journey."

Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Well, congratulations. Y’must be excited to start flying high."

You chuckled at his pun, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his flirtatious remarks. "Thanks. And what about you? Are you one of the graduating pilots?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guilty as charged. But tonight, M’more interested in getting to know you."

As the night wore on, the energy of the party only seemed to intensify, fueled by the pulsating rhythm of the music and the electric chemistry between you and Harry.

With each exchange, the attraction between you grew stronger, igniting a fiery passion that neither of you could ignore.

Before you knew it, the party had come to an end, and Harry suggested continuing the festivities at his place. Eager for more time together, you eagerly agreed, your heart racing with anticipation as you made your way to his doorstep.

As Harry fumbled with his keys, his lips found yours in a heated kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that burned hotter with each passing second. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating embrace, the hunger for each other driving you forward.

Finally, the door swung open, and Harry pulled you inside, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch. With a sense of urgency, you stumbled into his apartment, the desire to be close to him consuming every fiber of your being.

And as the door closed behind you, the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you entwined in a passionate embrace, lost in a whirlwind of desire and longing.

As you approach your gate, you come to a halt, a wave of anticipation washing over you. Turning to Samia, you give her a final hug, the warmth of her embrace a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I'll see you soon," you say, your voice tinged with both longing and determination.

Samia returns the hug with equal fervor, her support unwavering.

"Text me when you land, just so i know that you got there safely." she tells you you, her words a comforting reminder of your shared journey and the strength you draw from each other.

"Take care up there, and don't forget to enjoy New York," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “You deserve it.”

During the embrace, your gaze drifts past Samia, and that's when you spot him. Captain Styles, striding confidently towards the gate, his navy blue pilot uniform impeccable, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the fluorescent airport lights.

The women around him stare in awe, admiration evident in their eyes as they admire his striking looks and commanding presence.

As Captain Styles catches your eye amidst the throng of admirers, a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallow harshly, feeling a sudden rush of nerves at his knowing gaze, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the bustling airport terminal.

As you bid farewell to Samia and take a step towards the bridge leading to the plane, your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Captain Styles stands nearby, engrossed in conversation with the gate control personnel, his commanding presence unmistakable even from a distance.

As you approach the bridge, you catch Captain Styles' eye, and he immediately breaks off his conversation, his gaze fixed on you as he strides towards you with purpose.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't m’favorite cabin crew member," he says with a playful grin, his tone laced with flirtation.

You can't help but return his smile, the familiar spark between you reigniting with each step closer.

Ever since that night you spent together four years ago, the two of you have sort of started an arrangement, when one of you needs the other your there and vice versa.

But your feelings grew above just meaningless hookups.

His as far as you were concerned didn’t.

"Captain Styles, always a pleasure," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

He falls into step beside you, his presence magnetic as he matches your stride.

"So, headed to the Big Apple, are we?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of flying to New York with Captain Styles as your pilot.

"Yep, three days of layover in the city that never sleeps," you say, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Captain Styles chuckles, his charm on full display as he leans in closer, his voice low and intimate.

"Well, if you need a tour guide while you're there, y’know where t’find me," he says with a wink, his flirtatious demeanor sending a thrill down your spine.

You play along, matching his flirtatious energy with a playful smirk of your own.

"I might just take you up on that offer," you tease, the familiarity between you sparking with every word exchanged.

As you reach the entrance to the bridge, Captain Styles stops, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of intensity and longing.

"Until we meet again, m’cloud member," he says, his voice husky with promise.

You meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding between you hanging heavy in the air.

"Until next time," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation as you step onto the bridge and make your way towards the plane.

Standing at the entrance of the plane, you greet passengers with a warm smile as they board, checking their tickets with practiced efficiency.

Beside you stands Suzie, a petite blonde cabin crew member from France, her cheerful demeanor adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the aircraft.

"Bonjour! Welcome aboard," Suzie chirps in her melodious French accent, her eyes sparkling with genuine hospitality as she assists passengers with their carry-on luggage.

You nod in agreement, echoing her sentiments with a friendly greeting of your own.

"Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen. If you could please have your tickets ready, we'll get you settled in no time," you say, your voice projecting confidence and professionalism.

As passengers file past, you and Suzie work in tandem, ensuring a smooth and efficient boarding process. You exchange glances and quick smiles as you assist travelers with finding their seats and stowing their belongings in the overhead compartments.

"Next please," you say, gesturing for the next passenger to approach, your attention fully focused on providing top-notch service to everyone boarding the aircraft.

Suzie chimes in, her cheerful demeanor infectious as she assists an elderly couple with finding their seats.

"Right this way, monsieur et madame. Allow me to help you with your bags," she says, her gentle touch earning her grateful smiles from the passengers.

As the last few passengers board the plane, you and Suzie share a brief moment of camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

As the final passengers settle into their seats and fasten their seatbelts, you and the rest of the cabin crew begin to make your way down the aisle, ensuring that everyone is safely secured for takeoff. With practiced ease, you exchange reassuring smiles and nods with passengers as you pass, checking seatbelts and offering assistance where needed.

Once you confirm that all passengers are securely strapped in, you make your way to the front of the cabin, ready to perform the mandatory safety demonstration. Standing in the aisle, you and the other cabin crew members demonstrate the proper use of seatbelts, oxygen masks, and life vests, your movements fluid and precise as you emphasize the importance of safety during the flight.

As the plane taxis towards the runway, you continue the safety demonstration, pointing out the locations of emergency exits and demonstrating the brace position in case of an emergency landing. Your voice is calm and reassuring, your demeanor projecting confidence and competence to the passengers seated before you.

Three hours into the flight, you find yourself in the crew mess area, diligently preparing warm nuts for the passengers as part of the in-flight service. The gentle hum of the aircraft fills the air, a comforting backdrop to the routine tasks at hand.

Suddenly, the sound of the call button interrupts the steady rhythm, prompting you to glance up from your task.

With a quick exchange of glances with your fellow cabin crew members, you make your way towards the source of the signal, ready to assist the passenger in need.

Approaching the row where the call button was activated, you find a mother and her little girl, the child looking pale and visibly uncomfortable.

Concern washes over you as you inquire, "Is everything okay? How can I assist you?"

The mother looks relieved at your arrival, her voice tinged with urgency. "My daughter isn't feeling well. Do you have a sick bag?"

You nod empathetically, understanding the urgency of the situation.

"Of course, let me grab one for you right away," you assure her, before swiftly making your way back to the crew mess to retrieve a sick bag.

Returning to the passenger's row with the sick bag in hand, you offer it to the mother with a sympathetic smile.

"Here you go. I hope this helps. Is there anything else I can do to assist you and your daughter?"

The mother gratefully accepts the sick bag, her expression conveying a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you so much. This should do the trick. We'll let you know if we need anything else," she says, her voice soft with appreciation.

You nod, reassuring her that you're available should they require any further assistance.

Just under four hours into the flight, you find yourself tasked with delivering the pre-ordered meals to the cockpit crew. Carrying a tray with their dinner selections, you make your way to the front of the aircraft, where the cockpit door awaits.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knock lightly on the door before pushing it open, revealing the familiar sight of Captain Harry and First Officer Max at the controls.

"Dinner delivery," you announce with a smile, stepping into the cockpit.

Harry looks up from the control panel, his eyes lighting up as he sees you. "Ah, if it isn’t the queen of the clouds herself," he says, his tone playful yet subtly flirtatious.

Suppressing a smile, you approach him with the tray, presenting him with his sushi and a glass of apple juice.

"Here you go, Captain Styles. Enjoy your meal," you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

You bend down in front of the captain, knowing that it will simply drive him crazy, and because we’ll….your a little tease, your skirt isn’t that short, because it’s not aloud to be but it certainly does the trick, because you softly hear him take a small intake of breath which has you trying to surpress your smile.

You then stand back to a normal height and give the first officer his choice of food for the night.

Max looks up from his own console, offering you a polite nod of acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he says, his tone professional as he accepts his lasagna and a glass of milk.

You return his nod with a polite smile, acknowledging his presence before turning your attention back to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Captain?" you inquire, trying to keep the conversation light and professional despite the underlying tension between you.

Harry's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don’t think there is no." he replies, his tone teasing yet filled with underlying sincerity.

As you turn to leave the cockpit, you catch Harry's gaze and offer a sheepish smile.

"I should probably go wash my hands," you say, feeling a sudden need to break the tension in the air.

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Of course, can't have our cabin crew getting their hands dirty," he teases, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation.

You laugh along with him, grateful for the playful banter that eases the atmosphere.

"Exactly," you reply, eager to retreat from the intimate confines of the cockpit before things become too heated.

You make your way towards the bathroom as you had initially intended. Pushing open the door, you step inside, grateful for the momentary solitude the confined space offers.

Turning on the tap, you let the water flow over your hands, the cool sensation refreshing as you lather them with soap. With practiced efficiency, you scrub your hands clean, ensuring every trace of dirt and germs is washed away.

Once satisfied with the cleanliness of your hands, you rinse off the soap and reach for a paper towel to dry them.

As you pat your hands dry, you take a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your uniform and smoothing down any stray hairs that may have escaped your notice.

As you are preparing to leave the bathroom, the sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention, causing a slight flutter of nerves to rise in your stomach.

Without turning around, you sense someone entering the small space, their presence filling the air with an unspoken tension.

Gulping nervously, you finally muster the courage to turn and make eye contact with the newcomer.

The sight of the familiar uniform and the commanding aura that surrounds them leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart pounding in your chest.

You swallow heavily.

“Hello, Captain.”

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writingdumpster · 1 year

Text

bob’s shirt

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings: none

summary: When you wear Bob’s shirt to The Hard Deck, your secret relationship is found out. Reader’s callsign is Fox.

You and Bob had been secretly dating for four months. You weren’t sure why it was still a secret and neither was Bob, but neither of you was willing to admit to the other that you wanted to tell people. Phoenix knew, because she was tenacious in her interrogations.

“Why are you in such a good mood today?” Phoenix asked.

“I’m normally in a good mood,” Bob said.

“Yeah, but not this good. You keep smiling at nothing.” Bob glanced over at you across the lecture hall. Phoenix followed his eyeline. “Oh my god,” she gasped.

“What?” Bob muttered, his eyes still on you.

“You and Fox finally hooked up, didn’t you?” Phoenix whispered. Bob’s neck snapped to look over at her in shock.

“What? No!” He exclaimed in a whisper. “I mean we have but—we aren’t—Fox and I—” He stuttered. Phoenix let a grin spread across her face.

“It wasn’t just a hookup, was it?” She asked. Bob blushed. He looked at you and then back at Phoenix.

“We’ve been dating for three months. It’s our anniversary,” he admitted. Phoenix smiled at Bob. She had never seen him look so happy. “Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“Secret’s safe with me, Bob,” she assured him.

That’s how you ended up taking two cars to The Hard Deck even though the both of you had left from Bob’s place and intended to return there when the night was done. When you arrived Bob was quick to order your drinks while you went to sit with the others.

“Is that Bob’s shirt, Fox?” Hangman asked with a grin as you sat down at the table nearest the piano. You looked down and realized you were in Bob’s University of Montana shirt. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you struggled to think of a response. Rooster and Fanboy had caught wind of the conversation and were now looking in your direction.

“No,” you lied.

“Really? Didn’t you go to school in California?” Fanboy asked, smirking as he lifted his beer to his lips.

“I don’t know where it’s from,” you said, trying to shut down the conversation.

“I swear I’ve seen Bob in a shirt like that before,” Rooster piped in.

“Maybe he has one like it,” you said. Bob walked up to sit beside you, handing you your drink.

“Bob! Don’t you have a shirt like the one Fox is wearing?” Hangman smirked as he pointed to your shirt. Bob’s eyes met yours and he saw the embarrassment painting your face. The two of you had clearly been found out.

“Erm…I don’t think so,” he said, a blush rising across his cheeks.

“You went to the University of Montana, though, didn’t you?” Rooster pushed.

“Ye—yeah,” Bob stuttered.

“Do you know anyone else who went to the University of Montana, Fox?” Hangman questioned.

“I don’t know. I think I got this at a thrift store,” you lied.

“Why would you pick that out?” Fanboy teased you.

“It was probably cheap,” you tried.

“Everything at thrift stores is cheap,” Hangman pointed out. You were totally flustered and unsure what to say.

“I don’t—It was—I think—”

“We’ve been dating for four months,” Bob interrupted. It was very out of character for him to be so bold, but he had been having trouble watching your nerves build while you were talking to Hangman. Your head snapped to look at him, surprised by his confession.

“Four months?” Coyote asked in shock.

“I told you,” Phoenix said snappily. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Bob exclaimed.

“It doesn’t matter, Bob. We could all tell,” Fanboy said.

“How?” You asked.

“You hold hands every time you leave base,” Payback said.

“Yeah, but not till we get to the parking lot,” Bob countered.

“Yeah, cause we can’t see in the parking lot,” Fanboy teased.

“I told you that we shouldn’t,” you chided Bob. He shrugged.

“Couldn’t wait any longer,” he said.

“For a stealth pilot, you’re pretty bad at being undercover,” Hangman joked. Bob just smiled. The conversation moved away from you and Bob and everyone was animatedly discussing the base’s latest arrival of students. Bob scooted his chair closer to yours and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body and kissing your forehead. You smiled and leaned into him. It was nice to feel like the two of you could really be together in front of everyone.

You left The Hard Deck hand in hand. Bob walked you to your car. He stopped you as you arrived at your door.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?” You asked.

“I told everyone about us,” Bob said.

“It was pretty clear that they already knew,” you replied.

“That’s not the same as telling them though,” Bob said. You smiled softly at his thoughtfulness.

“I’m glad they know, Bobby,” you assured him. “We can be together everywhere now.” Bob smiled softly. There was a small pause. You could tell by looking at Bob that something was wrong and you were about to ask him when he blurted out:

“I love you.” The look on Bob’s face when he told you was one of pure admiration. He hadn’t been planning on telling you he loved you, but it had become impossible for him to hold it in any longer.

“I love you too, Robby,” you said with a smile.

“Really?” He asked in disbelief. You chuckled.

“Really. It’s hard not to fall in love with a sweet mid-western boy who kisses you like you’re gonna die,” you said. Bob laughed.

“If you weren’t so pretty, I wouldn’t have to kiss you so much,” he teased.

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m pretty then,” you said. Bob smiled. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a sweet kiss, his lips warm against yours. You leaned forward to give him one last peck when you pulled apart.

“Go get in your car. I’ll meet you at home,” you said.

“Home?” Bob asked with a smile. You blushed as you realized your mistake, but you decided not to retreat.

“Yeah. Home.”

#bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman fluff

2K notes · View notes

mafiatsunafish · 3 months

Text

The daggers were surprised to see a man that looks like a younger version of Rooster walking into the Hard Deck.

He had the pilot starter pack, Hawaiian floral print shirt, sunglasses hanging on his inner white shirt and all that jazz.

But there was something just so wrong with him, the daggers couldn’t seems to wrap their head on what exactly was wrong.

And then they saw Hangman trailing behind the said man looking weirdly worried and awkward.

“Roo, I’m sorryyyyyy.”

The blond’s apology spooked the entire squad cause the know he DOES NOT say sorry to anyone, except when he really screwed up.

Another thing, so that man was Rooster but apparently just missing something?

A small cartoonish light bulb appeared on Phoenix head. She shouted:

“Hey Rooster, where the hell is your mustache!?”

It has been years since the last time she saw his bare face like that, ever since their orientation at flight school. Therefore, this creeped the fuck out of her.

Now the other daggers took a few seconds to reboot their brain and updated on the situation, started to boom bard the tall brunet with many questions.

To be fair, none of them NONE OF THEM ever see Rooster without his infamous porntasche, so oh my my for them.

Then Halo seemed to find out another thing that just out of place on Rooster point out.

“Rooster, that is one nasty black eyes you have there man, alright?”

The pair, Hangman and Rooster now sat with their squad, the blond still looked weird and the brunet looked so done but still somehow amused.

“Just feels like I want to shave it.”

Rooster shrugged easily.

“And the black eye in on me.”

Hangman suddenly answered and that take their friend out.

“Uhmmm.. what happened? May I asked? Should I even know?” Coyote asked wearily.

“This bastard, decided to shave his face, bare, without saying anything. Then acted like nothing happened, hugged me from behind when I was cooking. I turned around to see a fucking stranger standing in my kitchen so I punch him.”

“What!?” Their friends shouted

“It’s not my fault that I’ve never see him without damn thing on his face!”

Hangman shouted back while Rooster just laughing beside him.

“I vetted him for that, the last time I saw our chicken’s bare face was in our first week of flight school and that was years before Hangman meet him.” Phoenix was also laughing now.

“I’m alright now, just a punch. He screamed bloody murder when he saw my face like this too.” Rooster added

“Roooooo!” Hangman hid his face behind his hands and Rooster just kissed him softly on his side, still laughing of course.

“It’s ok darling.” Rooster said to his lover.

“Damn, but I understand what Hangman did cause you looked so weird” Bob said while giggling.

“Please put it back.” Fanboy distress mumbling get drowned among his squad mate various noise of amusement.

(The first time Mav and Ice saw Rooster with his mustache through a picture Slider sent them.

Slider was stationed at Rooster based then, he had to call the husbands to warned them first, before sending the picture.

But still.

Mav almost have a panic attack and Ice was so shocked, they then just crying that whole evening. Nothing can prepare them to see how much their godson looks like his father. To the point they almost believe that was Goose, standing there in his flight suit, smiling brightly at them.)

(The autocorrect had me rolling fr )

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 month

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Hello, i love your work!

Could i make a request? If yes here is the idea:

Bucky x NavyPilot!female!reader, where she takes him to a ride, maybe an hangar smutty and fluff bc he is scared and amazed of his girlfriend skills.

Thank you so much! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Aircraft Fun » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Navy Pilot!Reader

Summary: Y/N takes Bucky for a ride in a Navy aircraft and they have a little fun of their own afterwards.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, riding, praise kink, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I’d like the apologize for taking so long to get to your request🩷

A/N #2: Please bare with me, I don’t know much about Navy Pilots so I apologize if I get anything wrong. Also I imagined Bucky with his long hair in Civil War for this.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for anything mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Are you having fun?” You asked, glancing at your boyfriend who’s holding on to the handlebars for the life of him.

“Yes.” Bucky kept his eyes focused on what’s in front of him. “Please watch what you’re doing.” He says.

“I’ve done this many times, babe. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” You say.

Bucky looks over at you, watching as you adjusted the controls and steered the aircraft before looking out the window in front of him. He’s never been this amazed in his life.

“You know…” Bucky admires the scenery in front of him. “It’s beautiful up here.” He says.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, baby!” You say.

“It’s not as beautiful as you.” He says, looking at you.

A smile grew on your face and blush covered your cheeks.

“Stop making me blush.” You giggled. “I’m flying an aircraft.” You say.

“I’m not doing anything, doll.” Bucky grins. “I’m just admiring my beautiful girlfriend and her amazing skills.” He says in a flirty tone.

Bucky didn’t miss the way you shifted in your seat.

“How about you land this thing and we can have fun back there?” Bucky suggests with a smirk, motioning to the back of the aircraft behind the seats.

“You read my mind.” You say.

You safely flew the two of you back to the base and safely landed. Bucky continued to watch in amazement. You made sure everything was off before following Bucky to the back of the aircraft. He took a seat on the bench seat, pulling you onto his lap. You kissed Bucky hungrily, cupping his scruffy cheeks to intensify the kiss. Bucky’s hands found their way to your hips, moving you against him. You moaned against his lips when you felt his bulge rubbing against your panty covered pussy. “Good thing I wore a skirt today.” You thought to yourself. You and Bucky pulled away from each other, looking deep in each other’s eyes before Bucky latched his lips on your neck, his teeth bit down on your skin hard enough to mark you up. His right hand left your hip and found its way underneath your skirt, rubbing your pussy through your wet panties.

“Is all of this for me, babydoll?” Bucky asks.

“It’s always for you, Bucky.” You say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

Bucky moved your panties to the side, his middle finger rubbing in between your folds to your clit, making you whine.

“Bucky please!” You begged.

“Tell me what you want, doll.” He says, continuing to mark up your neck.

“You cock.” You squeaked when his teeth nipped at your skin. “I want your cock.” You say.

“You know how to get what you want, doll face.” He says.

Bucky watched as you eagerly unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans, pulling his hard cock out of his boxers. You pumped it in your hand a few times, using his precum as a lubricant before lifting yourself up and lined his cock at your entrance. A relieved moan left yours and Bucky’s lips when you finally sunk down on his cock. You kissed his lips, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size. You rose yourself up till his tip was only left inside of you and went back down. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself while Bucky’s hands found their place on your hips, helping you ride him.

“You look so pretty like this, babydoll.” Bucky breathes, looking down at where the two of you are connected and watched as his cock disappeared inside of you, covered in your wetness.

You tilted your head back, moaning in pleasure. You felt every vein of his cock rubbing along your walls. Bucky was obsessed with the way your pussy felt around his cock, loving the way your pussy squeezed around his cock.

“I fucking missed you.” Bucky moans.

“I missed you too.” You moaned.

You rolled your hips against his, the perfectly trimmed hair on the base of his cock rubbed against your clit.

“It’s been a while.” He pants. “And you’re still a good girl for me.” He praises.

You moaned when he called you a good girl. You love it when he praises you.

“You like that?” He asks. “You like it when I call you a good girl?” He says.

“I’m your good girl.” You say, followed by a moan.

“That’s right, babydoll. You are my good girl.” He says.

Bucky’s hands left your hips and found your way to your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze before slamming you down on his cock. You moaned out loudly. The smell of sex filled the aircraft.

“Oh Bucky!” You moaned loudly.

“Keep moaning my name.” Bucky says.

“Bucky!” You moaned when he thrusted up into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot. “Oh yes! Right there!” You moaned loudly.

Bucky’s arms left your ass and he wrapped his arms around your waist and stood up, maneuvering the two of you with his cock still inside of you. He gently laid you down on the bend seat. He spread your legs further apart and began fucking you faster. Your lips parted, moans and whimpers left your lips. Bucky’s hands found their way under your shirt, sliding them up sides and stopping just below your breasts. He slid his hands underneath your bra and gave them a squeeze.

“Fuck… you’re so beautiful.” Bucky says, panting.

You arched your back in pleasure, giving Bucky a new angle to hit your sweet spot. His right hand left your breast and went down to your clit, rubbing it in circles. Your orgasm began to build up quickly, along with his.

“I know you’re about to cum, babydoll.” He pants. “Cum for me. I’m right there with you.” He says.

A loud moan of his name left your lips as you came. Bucky came inside of you not too long after you came. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling. He readjusted your panties and put his cock back in his boxers, buttoning and zipping up his jeans and buckled his belt. You two took a moment to yourselves before getting off the aircraft. Bucky kissed your lips sweetly while his hands found their way to your ass and shamelessly squeezing them causing you to gasp against his lips.

“Bucky!” You gasped, playfully smacking his hands away from your ass.

“You know you love it.” He smirks.

“I do.” You giggled. “But I love you more though.” You say softly.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky says smiling and kissed you once more.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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ukrfeminism · 4 months

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One morning in 2007, Frances Harper was taking a bath and listening to the local news on BBC Radio Suffolk when one story caught her attention. A young woman, Louise, was being interviewed about her life as a sex worker in Ipswich. “I couldn’t see how this interview was helping her situation at all,” says Harper, who was 60 at the time. “I got out of the bath and made some notes. I realised she needed a documentary to tell her story properly and I thought perhaps I could try to make it.”

Harper had never owned a video camera and had no idea how to shoot a film. She had spent the past four decades working in secretarial jobs, as well as raising her son and supporting her husband in his construction business. “I was busy but something was always missing,” she says. “Something I could do for myself.”

Armed with a sudden sense of purpose and without a current job to keep her occupied, Harper rushed out to buy a basic camera, read the manual and began looking up ways to contact Louise. The police wouldn’t share her details, but after finding the name of her solicitor in the local paper, she left a letter with the firm to be passed on. “Soon after, Louise phoned me and we decided to meet in a cafe in Ipswich,” Harper says. “I told her I’d like to make a documentary to share her story and help her. She agreed, and that was my entry into an entirely new world.”

Following Louise most days for weeks, Harper documented her life on the streets, her drug addiction and sex work, all while learning how to shoot and interview. “She told me that no one had motivated her or really cared about her life,” she says. “She was interested in art and history, so we went to galleries together and I even took her to an afternoon tea – all things she’d never done before. We spent a lot of time together because I had the time to spare.”

The more Harper got to know Louise, the more concerned she became about her life and especially her living situation. “She was basically sleeping in an electrical cupboard on the streets of Ipswich,” she says. “I started booking her into bed and breakfasts to keep her off the streets. It really showed me how lucky I had been. It’s changed my thinking ever since.”

Once she had enough footage, Harper put together a taster of the film and contacted the local BBC News office in Norwich. The idea of an older Ipswich resident befriending a young sex worker and producing a film was so unusual that Harper was invited to a meeting and commissioned to shoot a half-hour special for BBC East, which aired in February 2008. “I couldn’t believe that Louise’s story would be out there,” she says. “I hadn’t told too many people about it so my friends were shocked when it came out. Once it did, I also managed to battle with the council to finally get Louise a proper flat.”

Sixteen years later, Harper, 76, is fully immersed in film-making. After her experience with Louise, she became interested in the world of drug addiction and produced a film for Sky, which was narrated by Davina McCall and followed two mothers coping with the impact of their sons’ drug abuse. She has also completed a commercial film for the seaside town of Southwold and a charity short for an emergency response service. She is now working on a series about women in horticulture as well as a film about the life of female fighter pilots.

“I just can’t stop,” she says. “It really feels like I’ve found my calling. I get ideas all the time, although I can’t make all of them because I fund my own projects and it’s hard to come by funding for older people.”

But age does have some advantages. “I think people are more inclined to be polite around me because I’m older,” she says. “I’ve also gained newfound confidence through this work. I didn’t know whether I’d achieve anything but I just kept going. I weaved around the obstacles in my way.”

As well as changing her life, Harper has recently learned how her films have had a profound impact on other people too. “Louise contacted me last year and we just carried on talking as if no time had passed,” she says. “She told me: ‘You were the only person who believed in me.’ It made that decision to pick up the camera completely worth it.”

You can watch Harper’s films via the link below:

#Articles #Sex industry #community

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

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Nail Polish

Bradley Bradshaw x reader 1k words

summary: You just did your nails. And freshly painted nails mean not touching anything.

got the idea for this one because i did do my nails today and then also dyed my hair and so had to shower and while i was undressing had to pull down my pants with like, my fingertips, and my mind was just going “Bradley Bradshaw would NOT let me do this. he would NOT let me do this.”

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

You grunted as you pinched at your waistband, trying to peel the button of your jeans away and not mess up the fresh paint you’d put on your nails - which was easier said than done.

You probably should have just showered first. Done your nails afterwards. But you were stressed, alright, so none of this was your fault. The squad was going to be here in less than an hour and you’d only got off work at six, then had to eat, then had to get ready. In the span of like, two hours.

With a sigh, you leaned your forehead against the mirror above the sink and closed your eyes. You had to get out of these jeans. You’d already spent way too long dwelling on it.

A soft knock at the door ripped you from your thoughts. You looked up - it stood open (you hadn’t bothered closing it) and Bradley was leaning against the frame with an arm above his head, his knuckles resting on the wood, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Need some help there, baby?”, he asked. You huffed.

“I should’ve showered first”, you pouted. “I’ve been trying to get my jeans off without ruining my nails for the past five minutes and so far I’ve done this.”

You gestured at your opened zipper.

It was kind of sad, really, but he knew you inside out, all the most embarassing parts of you, so you found no reason to blush and hide anything.

“You could’ve just asked me to do it”, he chuckled, already moving away from the door and closer to you.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when he came close enough to touch, sinking down on one knee in front of you. You had to swallow at the sight. One of the best navy fighter pilots in the world, down on his knees for you. It still surprised you that out of all the people on this goddamn planet, you’d somehow managed to find him and keep him.

You’d always joked that you wouldn’t settle for a man unless he worshipped you like a goddess.

Now, as Bradley kneeled in front of you, his hands so gently on your thighs as he worked the button on your jeans for you, as he hooked his thumbs into your waistband, grazing your skin softly, you weren’t so sure it was a joke anymore.

It had been at first, yes. But he seemed to have made it his mission in life to treat you like a queen, and you had to say you were not complaining. No one in your place would.

“You never bother me”, he muttered, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of your leg as he pulled your jeans down ever so carefully. You had to fight the desire to bury your hands in his hair - for the sake of your nails. So instead, you braced your palms on the edge of the sink and watched him work.

You lifted your feet off the floor when he motioned for you to, shifted your weight when he left a slow trail of kisses up your legs, met his eyes when he stood up and brushed his thumbs below the hem of your shirt.

“Arms over your head”, he instructed and you followed like some senseless robot, “I’ll be careful with your nails.”

He pulled your shirt up, slowly exposing your skin to the cool air of the bathroom, sliding it up your arms - then grabbing for your right wrist, keeping it steady as he slipped it over your hand, not catching any of your nails even once, and doing the same for your left.

Bare in just underwear before him, maybe you should have felt indecent - embarrassed, uncomfortable, naked - but you didn’t. Even under his watchful eye, you never felt any sense of dread, only a pleasant warm haze spreading from your chest through the rest of your body. He was smiling, dropping your shirt and putting his hands to your waist instead, pulling you to him until you were pressed against him, arms crossing behind his neck as if in reflex.

“You’re beautiful”, he muttered, and you could feel his breath on your lips. “I’m so lucky.”

“You’re lucky?”, you chuckled. “You? Bradshaw, do you know how amazing you are? I mean-”

You were ready to ramble on about just how great he was for hours on end (you’d already proven you could do that before, when he’d said something bad about himself once and you’d set him down at the kitchen table and presented a 167 arguments-long list of why he was the absolute best) but he cut you off with a kiss, the words dying on your lips.

You nothing short of melted into him, his body so warm and comfortable and simply perfect around you, fingers snaking up to thread through the hair at the back of his head -

He pulled back.

There was a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed for your wrists, pulling your arms back and settling them on his chest instead.

“Careful”, he murmured. “Don’t want to ruin your nail polish.”

And then he was leaning in again and you forgot that you’d wanted to say “Fuck the nail polish”.

You could only think that yes, this was the perfect example of Bradley Bradshaw, ever the gentleman.

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader

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televisiongifs · 2 months

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These stories always focus on the victim. The person responsible for the calamity is never mentioned. No one wants to hear about the kid who paralyzed his own brother, or the driver who fell asleep at the wheel, or the pilots that took down that cable car. But I want to know about the perpetrators. I want to know about the people who caused the tragedies. The people like me. Are they ever forgiven? Do they ever move on? Not a moment goes by where I’m not thinking about what I’ve done. Not a moment goes by where I’m not thinking about you. About what you’re doing. How you’re doing. And how you go on living when I’ve completely shattered your life. EXPATS (2024) Created by Lulu Wang

#expats #tvedit #expats 2024 #lulu wang #nicole kidman #brian tee #sarayu blue #cinematv #dailyflicks #tvarchive #userstream #userbbelcher #useroptional #filmtv #ours #by nastya

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williamrikers · 11 months

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On the subject of consent in recent BLs

In this analysis, I will take a look at several love scenes in recent Thai BLs, how they frame consent and the sexual agency of the characters, and why those matter.

(KinnPorsche deserves its own post: I’m sure people have already written in detail about how much emphasis is placed on issues of consent/non-consent throughout the show and how fundamental consent is to the relationship arcs of both KinnPorsche and VegasPete, and I won’t belabor the point here. Also, special shout-out to The Warp Effect for what it brought to the conversation about gay sex, but TWE isn’t technically a BL so I decided not to include it in this analysis.)

I am going to take a closer look at the following shows in this essay: Not Me, The Eclipse, A Boss And A Babe, Step By Step, and La Pluie.

Not Me and The Eclipse predate the other shows by two years/one year respectively, but I feel it is valuable to include them here because both show very explicit negotiations of consent that I feel are spiritual successors to the wonderful scenes we’ve been getting in the other three shows.

Why am I even writing this? There used to be an unfortunate tendency in the genre to have a power imbalance between the “seme” and the “uke” character, which translated into the seme deciding when to have sex and what kind of sex to have—and even though recently, several shows have done good work in dismantling the seme/uke dynamic and questioning the associated stereotypes, it cannot be denied that the archetypes are still an important part of most BLs, and even in cases where the tropes are played with and questioned, understanding those subversions still requires a knowledge of and familiarity with the original tropes on the part of the audience.

However, gone are the days of Until We Meet Again and Dean’s “I’ve waited long enough, make sure you’re ready.” (I enjoyed UWMA a lot but that was. Yeah. Not Great.) Now, we see characters actually talking about and negotiating their limits, and doing what feels good to them.

Let’s start from the very beginning. Not Me was an absolute trailblazer in this regard, and not mentioning it here would be a gross oversight. The first time Sean and White have sex, it happens in their version of the beach episode. (Which, in Not Me, is the two characters briefly living in a tent inside an abandoned building. This show is the best.) Sean and White are removed from their usual environment and protected from the outside world by two barriers: the walls of the old house and the tent that’s literally enveloping them and giving them a space that is unequivocally theirs, shared, in which neither one of the characters has any sort of power over the other. And what happens in that space when they’re about to have sex is extremely interesting: the first thing Sean asks is whether White is afraid of him, which White denies. The following exchange goes like this: White: "So, what are we doing?" Sean: "What should I do to you?" White: "That’s up to you." (Watch the whole scene here.)

I find this exchange incredibly meaningful because this already turns the seme/uke dynamic that can be found in a lot of other shows on its head. OffGun as a branded pair can easily be stereotyped into the seme/uke dynamic just because of their physical appearances, and clearly spelling out that both characters have agency in this scene is incredibly important.

And then it gets better! Sean assumes that White is sexually inexperienced (which is not true but the fact that White was actually in a relationship with a woman back in Russia never comes up again after the pilot episode, so maybe the show expects us to assume this, too), and suggests they try different things and White can tell him what he likes and doesn’t like. Compared to the stuff we’re getting now, this scene isn’t very high heat at all, but it’s one of my favorite intimate scenes ever because them asking each other “Do you like this?” after every kiss, every touch, is so incredibly unique and transports a wonderful sense of figuring out sexual pleasure together, as a couple.

Sex in Not Me is not something one character does to another, it is something that is discovered and shared together, and we even get an afterglow scene in which they gently tease each other about their fast beating hearts. (And don’t get me started on the importance of White choosing to ask Sean whether Sean is okay with White not being like Black in that moment right before they have sex, because he doesn’t actually want to have sex with Sean as Black! He wants to discover and share intimacy with Sean as White, as himself, not as his brother! The layers!)

Anyway, I think that scene paved the way for a lot of the conversations around consent we’re now getting in BL, just because it is so explicitly, unashamedly putting forward a definition of sexuality that has nothing to do with one character actively giving and the other passively receiving, but frames intimacy as something that is built together. (More on giving and receiving later!)

Now, moving on to The Eclipse. I decided to include the first time Akk and Aye have sex for a different reason: while we don’t really see them actually talking about consent, we see them practicing non-verbal consent. Let me explain. Akk’s and Aye’s whole thing is teasing each other. At first, Aye is usually the one doing the teasing, but Akk gets the hang of it towards the end of the show and teases his boyfriend right back. When they’re in Akk’s childhood bedroom together, Aye clearly alludes to the fact that he thought they might use this opportunity to have sex for the first time, which Akk pretends not to understand, all while alluding to it himself. I love this guy. (Watch the whole scene here.) Anyway, Akk says he wants to sleep, lies down and once again, tells Aye jokingly he just wants to sleep, clearly expecting Aye to do what other BL protagonists do at that point and not take no for an answer (sidenote: I HATE the “saying no as foreplay” trope with a passion and as far as I’m concerned it should die already).

However, Aye is not like other BL love interests, and he backs off. He stops touching Akk, lies down with his back to Akk, showing Akk that he takes him by his word: if Akk says he wants to sleep, Aye is going to let him do just that. So now, it’s on Akk to say that, no, that’s not what he meant, can Aye please come back to cuddle. And then Akk is the one to escalate from cuddling to kissing, which is extremely important: we know that Aye has been ready to have sex with Akk since forever, it’s Akk who’s been having hangups about intimacy this whole time.

They don’t put consent into so many words on this show, but Aye shows Akk that he respects his limits and that Akk only has to tell him he doesn’t want to do something and Aye will take him at his word.

So, these are, to me, two foundational scenes of establishing consent: one that shows consent as something that is established verbally, as an ongoing conversation, and one that shows consent as something that is established physically, by showing your partner that you respect their choices and limits by way of simply acting accordingly.

Now, let’s get into the fun part: scenes we got so far in 2023. I’m writing this post on the 13th of June, and I’m sure this year still has some great things in store for us, especially because Step By Step and La Pluie are both ongoing and neither of the main couples are actually together yet at time of writing. However, they’ve both already given us AMAZING scenes on the topic of consent, so I feel it is worthwhile to write about those already.

I want to start off by talking about A Boss And A Babe.

Let me just preface this by saying that the intimate scenes in ABAAB are some of my all time favorites in BL ever, because in them, sex is something that is just so normal. When Gun and Cher have sex, we don’t see them very passionate, excited, reluctant or wide-eyed innocent (which are some of the emotions traditionally associated with sex in BL). On the contrary, in every single scene that shows them being intimate, both characters are incredibly calm. They’re certainly happy to be with each other, but in a subdued way. Someone described their second intimate scene as them seeming like they’ve been married for a few years. They’re both just… incredibly normal about having sex with each other. It’s simply something they like to do together. It’s a part of their romance but it’s not more or less important than any other aspects of their lives.

And consent is at the very heart of it.

When Gun and Cher have their first time, we see Gun explicitly asking for consent two times: first, “Can I kiss you?”, then, “Can I do more?” The second one even comes with the promise that if Cher says no, Gun will immediately go to sleep without mentioning it again. And then it is on Cher to say yes, to pull Gun close and kiss him to show him that he is comfortable with taking things further. (In the show, these two questions were shown apart from each other, I cut together a version of the whole First Time Scene in its entirety, watch it here.)

Now, things get more interesting: the second intimate scene shows Cher initiating the encounter (watch the whole scene here). Cher pretty consistently falls into the uke category, both physically and as far as characterization is concerned, but he’s certainly not shy in the bedroom. And this time, he’s the one who asks for consent from Gun: Gun asks “You’re starting it?” and Cher’s response is “Can I?” Despite him being framed physically lower than Gun, basically at Gun’s mercy, he still seeks confirmation that Gun is okay with the way things are going. Not to overstate it, but to me, this feels revolutionary. Once again, we’re being shown that sex is something two people do together, as a shared activity, and that the “seme” character isn’t expected to just be up for it. He, too, has the right to say no.

On this show, sexual agency is taken extremely seriously, and it is clear that both Gun and Cher give each other space to decide what they’re comfortable doing. This is shown in non-intimate scenes as well: there are so many moments on ABAAB in which the characters negotiate physical touch and closeness, asking each other for hugs before actually hugging each other, Cher leaning on Gun’s shoulder in the car but not allowing Gun to touch him because that’s not what he’s comfortable with in that moment, and so on. (The only exception to this otherwise pretty consistent rule is the kiss in the car scene, which I’m still extremely confused about because it seems to go completely against Gun’s character. Who knows what happened there.)

Of course, the fact that so much emphasis is placed on negotiation and consent isn’t surprising on a show that has such obvious kink undertones and whose Our Skyy 2 entry basically consisted entirely of Dom/sub roleplay at work—I’m just saying, I think someone on the writing team is way into BDSM and knows all about the importance of enthusiastic consent from all parties involved, and I would like to send them flowers.

Step By Step hasn’t really reached the point where we can analyse the dynamic between the main couple (although we can take some educated guesses based on the interactions we’ve seen so far). However, last week’s episode had an extremely important scene between Pat and Put: Pat wanting to have sex with Put, then changing his mind mid make-out (watch the whole scene here). I really like the way this scene was done. No matter how shitty Put treats Pat at times, in this instance, he immediately understood and respected Pat’s change of mind without Pat even saying or explaining anything—at the end of the episode, Put says to Pat that Pat should tell Put when he feels ready to have sex. (We already know this will never happen because of course, Pat and Put are not endgame, but I do appreciate the sentiment.)

BLs rarely include a whole storyline in which the protagonist is in an actual, serious romantic relationship with someone other than his endgame love interest (hi Moonlight Chicken!), or if they do then just to up the angst factor. In this case, however, I feel that this scene raises our expectations for Jeng even further: if the guy who is definitely not a romantic match for Pat treats Pat with this much respect in the bedroom, then Jeng has to do at least that and then some. I do feel confident that Jeng won’t disappoint in this regard, but it’s fascinating to see a show frame this kind of respect as the absolute baseline minimum, with the endgame love interest expected to do even better.

Now, the one you’ve all been waiting for. The one that made me write this whole essay in the first place: La Pluie.

Oh boy. Where to start.

A week ago, we got an incredible make-out scene on Saengtai’s floor, which ended in Patts stopping the encounter because he could tell Tai wasn’t really comfortable taking things further—@bengiyo talked about that scene in detail here. And then, three days ago, La Pluie gave us the most unique, trope-defying, timeline-changing blowjob scene of all time, and I want to talk about it.

Tai and Patts are making out on their bed, Tai is not ready to go “all the way” and stops Patts from undressing him. We see a very realistic frustrated reaction from Patts, who nevertheless immediately stops and accepts Tai’s wishes—it is clear that Patts does not expect things to go any further at this point, and that he won’t pressure Tai into anything.

And then, Tai offers to blow him.

(Unfortunately, this show is only on iQiyi so I can't link to it, but you can get a good impression of the scene here.)

I mentioned the concepts of giving and receiving earlier: other people have said this more eloquently than me, but there is a tendency not only in BL but also in wider society to view sex in terms of giving and receiving, with a lot of expectations and stereotypes attached to the roles during different sexual acts. On other shows, that blowjob might be framed as a consolidation or an apology, something that the giver does out of a sense of obligation without enjoying it much. Not so on La Pluie! Tai is shown incredibly happy and satisfied afterwards, both when they’re sleeping next to each other, as well as on the morning after (see also @ginnymoonbeam's post about that here). Tai offered to blow Patts because he simply wanted to, not motivated by guilt or anything of that sort. And he genuinely enjoyed it! In the post I linked above, @bengiyo points out that La Pluie consistently centers queer desire, or more specifically in this case, male desire for a male body; much in the same way that the camera fucking loves Force’s body on ABAAB: the sensuality of the skin, the hands, the abs, the flat chests, the broad backs and shoulders of these men is explicitly emphasized, and Tai’s desire for a dick in his mouth is made absolutely crystal-clear. Of course, since this is a TV show and not a porno, we only see Patts’s thumb in Tai’s mouth instead of his dick, but the imagery, the implications, are clear as day.

And it is such a gentle framing, too: Patts caresses Tai’s lip lovingly, Tai opens his mouth slowly, seductively, then faces Patts’s crotch with a soft look on his face. We do get a clear sense of this encounter as tender, and gentle, and most of all, desired. Tai’s queer desire is at the heart of this scene, and at the heart of the afterglow scene as well. He wanted this man’s dick in his mouth, openly suggested it, showed Patts he was sure about his decision after Patts asked him whether he was, and ended up clearly happy and satisfied with the sex they had. This post, also by @bengiyo, goes into more detail on that.

This, once again, shows us sex as a conversation rather than a series of predetermined acts, shows us sex as a shared activity, as something that can be wonderful and intimate and make people happy without following what society views as “the correct steps”. I think this is extremely important because one part of queer identity is figuring out one’s own relationship to sexuality, one’s own desires and needs, and BLs that ignore this aspect fall a little short in my opinion. Sure, those men are kissing, but do they experience queer desire? Do they experience joy in their queer desire?

For me personally, a show that does not shy away from these questions is a lot more meaningful than a show that does, and consent is at the heart of it all. By framing sex as a conversation, as something that is built and shared together, the shows I looked at here are actively positioning themselves against the idea that there should be predetermined roles for partners during sex, and instead suggest that queer joy can be found in communication and consent. Understanding sex and intimacy as something that is built together, with both partners as equals in conversation, is just as radically queer as a man waking up with a smile on his face after giving his soulmate a blowjob the previous night.

And quite honestly, a male character who clearly, passionately, unquestioningly communicates that he wants a dick inside of him—that is incredibly sexy. But maybe that’s just me.

#*mine #not me the series #the eclipse #the eclipse the series #a boss and a babe #step by step #step by step the series #la pluie #la pluie the series #i said ''is anyone going to write a 3k meta analysis on this topic'' then didn't wait for an answer

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jaegeraether · 4 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 59)

Alexia Putellas x Character (19)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**mini 2.8k**))

“Put me down.”

“You’re obviously doing better if you’re ready to argue.”

They both knew Alexia didn’t need to be okay to be arguing with her.

“Put me down, Ridley.”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to someone who’s helping you.”

“Why are you even here?”

“To check on you.”

“To check on me or Chiquito?”

“Can’t it be both?”

Alexia gave a frustrated sound.

“Put me down.”

“No.”

“You can’t carry me all the way, I’m heavy.”

“Yes, I can, and no, you are not.”

“Ridley-”

“I was in the military. I’ve been through worse.”

“Yes, as a pilot. Is that where you get your stubbornness from?”

Ridley looked down at her and was not disappointed by the grumpy look she had on her fatigued, sweaty face. She smirked.

“I went through SERE training. And no, I like to think that was genetically gifted to me.”

“Blau mentioned that…”

“Hm. What did she say?”

“Nothing, she said I should ask you.”

Ridley nodded like she already knew what Blau would have done. “Okay.”

“Well?”

“Well, what? You haven’t asked me a question.”

“You’re so frustrating!”

“And still, you can’t get me out of your head.”

Alexia went silent for a moment at that honesty.

Ridley looked at her and felt guilty again. “It’s not a nice discussion to have.”

“I just don’t understand… you were a pilot. You weren’t in the army.”

Ridley sighed, knowing she’d never let it go. “No, but pilots are most likely to become prisoners in enemy territory if we crash or eject or run out of fuel. We needed to be trained to endure it.”

“Endure what? Australia isn’t fighting anyone.”

Ridley stepped into the lift; Alexia still cradled safely in her arms. “Press the button, please.”

“Not until you tell me more.”

Alexia saw Ridley’s jaw flex as she manoeuvred and pressed the penthouse button with her elbow.

“There’s a lot of fighting happening that the public isn’t aware of.”

Alexia’s eyes widened. “You… fought?”

“I was one of a few who were involved in live combat, yes.”

“And so… how did they train you?”

Ridley made a frustrated noise. “What do you want me to say here, Alexia? They tortured us. Broke us. Again, and again. They drowned us and starved us and broke our bodies down to make us stronger. They broke us until it was impossible to torture us. So that we could endure any type of pain. Is that what you want to hear?” Ridley was looking at her now, those memories flooding across her face, across those dark eyes. “So yes, I can carry you until my fucking bones break, and beyond.”

Alexia let that hang in the air a few moments, both regretting having asked, and grateful that she knew. She felt like such a large piece of Ridley had just slotted into place. Did Ridley see her feelings for Alexia as a weakness to be drilled out of her?

Alexia put a hand over the large heart Ridley didn’t want to admit she had. “Thank you for telling me.”

Ridley took a few more breaths to calm herself and Alexia watched as the pain subsided and empathy took hold. “Lex just… save your breath please. You need to rest.”

A few more moments of silence were had in the lift and Alexia couldn’t help but feel safe in her arms. Comfortable. Ridley didn’t seem to be straining at all. Alexia knew she wasn’t small; she was 173cm and almost 70kg, but looking at Ridley’s calm face and feeling her arms hold her so easily, she felt like she weighed nothing to her.

She watched her as she stood, as she thought, somewhere off in the distant world of Ridley. There was something about her that was just so… fascinating to her.

The lift reached the top floor and Ridley stepped out and walked her to the door.

“Door, please.”

Instead of arguing, Alexia opened the door, and Ridley closed it with her foot when they were in. It was a beautiful feeling, stepping inside. The house smelled lovely, the aircon hit her body which sent a little shiver up her spine, and Chiquito greeted them.

“Hello my little man,” Ridley greeted him in Spanish before walking them ever so slowly inside. “Has he been keeping you company?”

“Yes, very well actually.”

“He can be quite… clingy at times. It’s one of the things I love most about him.”

“He’s very much like you.”

“You think I’m clingy?”

“I don’t know you well enough for that.”

It was a little dig, and Ridley knew it, but she didn’t bite.

“Are you feeling dizzy? Lightheaded?”

“No.”

Ridley paused her steps to give her a sceptical look. “You’re trembling.”

“Maybe because I lost the feeling in my legs having been carried from a park.”

Ridley only smiled. “Tell me the truth.”

After a few moments of silence, Alexia admitted, “I’m only a little lightheaded.”

Ridley nodded and continued to the couch. “Feel sick?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Ridley placed her ever-so-gently down onto the couch, and laid her down. Alexia’s eyes found hers as Ridley cradled the back of her head all the way until it was touching the couch. “Lie here to calm your body for a minute or so. When I come back, we’ll sit you up.”

“Where are you going?”

Ridley didn’t respond, she just disappeared. She reappeared soon with a bottle of water and another bottle with a coloured liquid. She placed them on the coffee table as she learnt back over Alexia. God, it took her breath away when she did that.

“Would you like to sit up now?”

Alexia didn't trust her words; not while she was drowning in her eyes. She nodded.

“Okay, Lex. Arms around my neck.” Alexia did what she was told and Ridley lowered her head just past her ear. The feel of her breath there tickled and tingled while her hands found her waist.

Alexia held on as Ridley manoeuvred her up the couch until she was resting against it. As Ridley pulled back and their faces moved close to each other, there was a moment where they both paused as they felt each other just a breath away.

Alexia couldn’t help her eyes flicking to her lips and when she looked back up, Ridley’s eyes betrayed her inner conflict. She broke first and pulled away, placing the two bottle near her.

“Water and electrolytes. Drink.”

She was so demanding, so dominant, but it didn’t come from a place where dominance usually came from. Usually people wanted it to control others, to fulfil some sense of validation or desire. But with Ridley, she could tell it wasn’t the case. She wasn’t telling her what to do harshly. She wasn’t demanding it. There was no ego in her voice, and yet still, she was listened to. Because with Ridley, you knew it wasn’t a power play. She was just so good at making decisions that you knew to do as she said because she always made the correct decision in any situation, no matter how controversial or morally ambiguous.

Alexia picked up a bottle and opened it as Ridley walked away. She took a sip and relished the taste as she gave her body what it so desperately needed.

Ridley arrived back with ice and sat on the couch at Alexia’s legs, pulling her bad one across her body. She wrapped the ice around it, her eyes lingering on the scars.

“I’m assuming this is all about your knee?”

“Yes…”

Ridley nodded and stood, placing her leg back down as she walked away again. This time Alexia couldn’t help herself.

“Where are you going?”

“To make you lunch.”

Alexia felt so sick, she didn’t think she’d be able to eat.

“I don’t think I can.”

She heard Ridley fiddling around in the kitchen not a minute later. Of course. Stubbornness. Alexia sighed and kept herself hydrated until she returned and placed the prettiest bowl of oatmeal and fruits in front of her that she’d ever seen.

“Good carbs for the low blood sugar. Eat, la Reina.”

Her sick feeling went away with that. Slowly at first, and then more so. She groaned at that first mouthful and Ridley watched her until she was satisfied and left again. Alexia started eating faster, her body coming back to life until a hand touched her shoulder gently.

“Slow down, Alexia. Give your body time to adjust.”

Alexia did as she was told as Ridley made her way back around the couch and sat at her feet with a bottle in her hand. She gestured to her knee.

“May I?”

“It’s tender…”

“I know.”

She hesitated but nodded because she trusted her. Ridley sat between her legs and pulled her bad one into her lap, removing the icepack. She watched as the fingers of her good hand felt around her ACL and the entirety of her knee, front and back, and leading up into her thigh. When her inspection was done, she put some lubricant on her hand and massaged her knee. It was sore at first, and then… Alexia’s eyes rolled into the back of her head at the relief. She moaned, her head falling back onto the couch, the bowl of food forgotten in her lap.

Her fingers. Her fucking fingers. And her palm. And with a broken hand?! It was so good, she could almost orgasm. Another sound escaped her without permission.

“You can come if you really want to. I don’t mind.”

Typical Ridley. Alexia scoffed and her head shot back up as she fired back. “You’re giving me permission?”

Ridley shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t dare. You know what you want, la Reina.”

“Of course you don’t care. This would be the only way you’d make me come.”

Ridley paused and a question flashed across her face. She thought better of it and then one look at Alexia made her ask it. “Did you come to London thinking I’d fuck you?”

Alexia froze. She didn’t, did she? She wasn’t sure herself. She wondered how long Ridley had been pondering over that question.

“I came to get away.”

Ridley held her gaze until she was satisfied and nodded, returning to her work. “Good. Because we’ve had this discussion.”

That statement made Alexia angry, and she didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt. “So you wouldn’t care if I slept with Meg?”

Ridley’s face was all too neutral. “Meg?”

“My physio.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Well, Katie did say she was pretty, did she not? Perhaps it will be good for you.”

“You don’t know what’s good for me!”

Ridley paused again, her eyes moving from her work, to the water and electrolytes, to the bowl of food in front of her. “You keep telling yourself that, Lex.”

“You’re really encouraging this?” Her voice broke because she was hurt.

“You can fuck who you want, Alexia. It’s your body. Your decision.”

“You wouldn’t care?”

“I never said that.” Ridley sighed and moved Alexia’s legs around her, replacing the icepack as she started on her other leg. “I can’t provide you with intimacy, so it would be selfish of me to be anything but encouraging.”

She never said she didn’t care.

“But you can offer it.”

Ridley sighed, exasperated. “No, I can’t.”

Alexia was at her breaking point. “I care about you’ve been through. What you’ve seen and what you’ve done. I know you must have done and seen some horrible things in the past, especially in the air force,” Ridley’s jaw flexed, “but you can trust me. You can talk to me.”

“They’re not your burdens to bear. They are mine, and mine alone.”

“But-”

“What do you want from me, Alexia?” Ridley was almost mad now, her eyes finding the footballers. “You want me to fuck you right here on this couch? Against the kitchen counter over there? In the gym? In the pool? You want to use me like that? Huh? That’s just sex. If all you want from me is sex, then just ask and I’ll make you scream so loud it’ll wake the fucking building. But you can’t, because there’s something more than that, and you know it.”

It was so brutally honest and Alexia was ashamed to admit how wet it made her. She wanted her, but not like that. Not like one of her girls. She bit back. “Oh and it wouldn’t be a problem for you? Feeling me, tasting me, hearing me come with you? Feeling my fingers inside of you and the sensation of my mouth on you?” She looked around. “How many women have you fucked in here, anyways?”

Ridley shook her head and gave a disappointed look at her. She knew Alexia was lashing out because she was hurt. “None.”

“Lies.”

“I don’t lie,” she said, hard. “You know that.”

“None?”

“None.”

Then why was she here?

“Why?”

“Because… because my brother always wanted to visit London.” Alexia’s rage disappeared like it was never there. “And when we were kids I promised him I’d bring him here and buy him a house. It… it doesn’t feel right.”

“So…”

Ridley answered like Alexia had asked her a question. Because she understood her. “So you’re the closest thing to a partner who’s ever been here, Lex.”

That nickname again. The closest thing to a partner. Alexia reached out and touched her arm. “Let me in…” she begged. Alexia never begged but she’d happily get on her knees for her.

Ridley was silent a few more moment. “You want more from me than I can give.”

Ridley stayed until late; the two lost in each other. Ridley shared her music with her, why she was passionate about it, how it made her feel, and Alexia… Alexia shared her football and her friends and… in the hopes that it would get Ridley to open up to her… she shared her dad. Her memories of him, things he said and did and how strongly he supported her. She cried unashamedly and Ridley wiped those tears away. They spent the rest of that day not together… but together. Close. Reassuring hugs and calming strokes. They moved together. Laughed together. Cooked dinner together, though Ridley did pick her up without her permission and sit her on the counter to get the weight off of her knee.

They found themselves on the couch in the theatre room as it grew late, Chiquito happily settled into Alexia’s lap as they searched for a movie. That half a day made her London trip worth everything. And as she sat there, so close to Ridley but not quite touching, she realised just how deeply she cared for her. She watched as she scanned the movies; the tv lighting her face in different ways.

“We left the football in the park,” Alexia murmured, only saying it to see how her face would react.

Ridley smirked and continued to scroll. “Actually, I kicked it to a kid who was eyeing it.”

Of course she did. Ridley the philanthropist.

A few more moments in silence and they eventually picked a movie and played it.

It started and Ridley leant back into the couch, Alexia still watching her.

“Why did you really come today?”

Ridley refused to take her eyes off of the television and she wondered if it was a tactic to control herself.

“To make sure you were okay,” she said in a husky voice.

“It would be easier if you just stay here instead of the hotel you don’t need to be in.” Alexia knew she didn’t need to be there, and she watched Ridley relax as she found out she knew. Why did she relax?

“It’s better this way.”

Alexia sighed, almost defeated.

“Can you do me a favour?” The Australian asked suddenly.

“Anything.” The word was out of her mouth before she could even think it.

“Please book in that physio for tomorrow. Your knee needs it and… I think it’d be good for you.”

Alexia heard her actual meaning. She’d be good for you.

A glance between the pair confirmed it.

“For you.”

That genuine Ridley smile softly warmed her face, lifting her scar as her cheek rose and Alexia could have died happy right then and there. The only reason she didn’t is because it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She grudgingly took out her phone to book an appointment with Meg.

“Done?” Ridley asked.

“9am tomorrow.”

“Thank you…”

“You owe me a favour.”

“That’s two now. Hurry up and chip them in.”

Alexia fell asleep half way through the movie, the day dragging weariness into her. She felt her head resting on Ridley’s shoulder, the rise of fall of it lulling her into a deeper sleep. She dreamt of her. Of them. Happy. Laughing as they had done that day.

And then she woke, and Ridley was gone.

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #alexia putellas #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca #fc barcelona #fc barca #culers #woso x reader

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bradshawsbaby · 11 months

Text

My Birthday Baby

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Summary: You always do everything in your power to make sure that Bradley’s birthday is as perfect and special as he is, but it’s much harder to do this year when you’re seven months pregnant with his baby.

Word Count: 5.7k

Author’s Note: I can’t believe it’s been over four months since I’ve written a proper story for the Bradshaws! That feels criminal! Naturally, I couldn’t let Bradley’s birthday pass by without some type of celebration!

Warnings: Pregnancy, implied sex, subtle innuendos, a dash of angst, and a whole lot of signature Bradshaw fluff.

Barring perhaps Christmas, today was one of your absolute favorite days out of the entire year.

To most people, June 27th might not be any particular cause for celebration, but to you, it was one of the most important days on the calendar. If you could, you’d turn it into a national holiday so that everyone could commemorate it. Why, some might ask? Because it was the day your incredible husband had entered the world, and Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw deserved to be honored and celebrated more than anyone else you knew.

For as long as he had been in your life, you had done everything in your power to make sure that each and every one of Bradley’s birthdays was as special as he was, and that he could feel just how loved he was.

“My mom always made a big deal out of my birthdays,” he had told you early on in your relationship, shrugging it off and blushing slightly, like he was almost a little embarrassed about it. “She used to tell me that the day I was born was the best day of her and my dad’s lives, so we had to celebrate big. After she passed, I kind of just pretended like it was any other day. Didn’t feel right celebrating with her and my dad both gone.”

It was then that you realized he wasn’t embarrassed about the big birthday parties his mom had thrown him—he missed them. Even though the two of you had only been dating for a few months, you were coming to know him like the back of your hand and you could pick up on the subtle clues that revealed how he was feeling. The pink hue to his cheeks and ears, the way he shrugged it off like it was no big deal and kept averting his gaze, the tightness in his jaw as he swallowed a few times—he was trying to mask the emotion his admission had dredged up.

“Your birthday is a special day,” you’d told him softly, reaching out and placing your hand over his, your fingertips lightly dancing across his knuckles. “And I think your parents would want you to celebrate that. I know that I want to celebrate it.”

He had just kissed you in response, burying his face in your neck to hide the fact that his dark eyes were wet.

But a few weeks later, when his first birthday as your boyfriend rolled around, you surprised him with tickets to a Padres game and you were certain that you had never seen a bigger smile on anyone’s face. The way he beamed at you, his eyes brimming with the love he never failed to shower upon you, would be engraved on your heart for the rest of your days, you were sure of it.

After that, every time June 27th rolled around, you made sure to make it the big celebration that Carole would have wanted. From weekend trips, to surprise parties, to special gifts that brought your big, tough fighter pilot to tears, nothing was too elaborate or too good for your Bradley.

“Thank you, honey,” he had whispered in your ear on his last birthday, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you held each other close. “Thank you for always making this day better than I could have dreamed.”

And this year was going to be the best yet. It might look a little different than previous years, but you were more determined than ever to shower your husband with all the love and affection that he so deserved.

Rolling over onto your back gingerly, you placed both hands on the rounded mound of your belly and smiled sleepily. A cursory glance at your alarm clock had revealed that it was a few minutes after six, the sun just barely starting to break through the morning clouds outside your bedroom window. Rubbing the underside of your bump tenderly, you felt a small kick and your smile grew wider.

“It’s Daddy’s birthday today, Baby B,” you whispered, poking your belly playfully. “Are you going to help me celebrate?”

As if in response, you felt another firm kick and you had to bite back a laugh to keep from waking up Bradley. At seven months pregnant, you could feel the baby kick all the time now and it always made your heart burst with excitement.

Bradley, knowing how much you always went all out for his birthdays, had been concerned this past week, wanting you to rest instead of tiring yourself out on his account.

“Honey, I mean it,” he’d told you just the other day, his large hand splayed across your belly as the two of you sat together on the couch. “Don’t overdo it this year. We can just have a nice dinner, a little cake, and that’s all I need. You and the baby are the greatest gifts I could ever get. Nothing’s going to top that anyway,” he grinned, kissing the tip of your nose and then dropping a kiss on your stomach.

You knew he was right, but that hadn’t stopped you from spending all day at the grocery store yesterday, picking up all the ingredients you needed for Bradley’s birthday dinner and homemade cake, or from staying up all night last night to prepare and pack a special birthday lunch for him to take to work today.

“Do you really have to go to work tomorrow?” you’d asked him as the two of you were preparing for bed last night. “It’s your birthday!”

Bradley just laughed, wrapping his arms around your swollen middle and pulling you towards him, your back pressed firmly against his broad chest. “Honey, it’s not like it’s a federal holiday,” he grinned, peppering your cheek with kisses. “Can you imagine Cyclone’s face if I requested a day off just because it’s my birthday?”

“It should be a holiday,” you grumbled, erupting into a fit of giggles as Bradley began nibbling playfully on your neck, his mustache tickling your skin.

“It’s still going to be a perfect day, because I have a perfect wife I’m coming home to, and she’s carrying our perfect baby,” Bradley smiled, cupping your chin in his hand and tilting your face towards his so that he could drop a proper kiss on your lips. “Not to mention the perfect birthday cake my perfect wife is baking me,” he teased, pecking the corner of your mouth.

Bradley loved your baking, and every year he liked to request a different flavored cake for his birthday—”They’re all so good, I can’t choose just one favorite!” he’d told you. This year, he’d opted for a chocolate chip cake with vanilla frosting and a fudgy center. You’d made it once for a barbecue at Penny and Mav’s house and Bradley hadn’t been able to stop raving about it. You knew it was the number one thing he was most excited for this year.

“Mmm, really sucking up, aren’t we?” you teased, wiggling your hips against him with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I already have all the ingredients for your birthday cake.”

He groaned softly, kissing your collarbone as a sign of his appreciation. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Yes,” you smiled, snuggling up against him as the two of you fell asleep.

Now you were awake, your internal clock hardly ever allowing you to sleep in late these days. Turning your head on your pillow, you looked over at your husband, still fast asleep beside you—his alarm wasn’t set to go off for another forty-five minutes or so—and felt your heart flood with the warmth of an adoration that had only continued to grow since the moment you had first met him at The Hard Deck all those years ago.

His ruddy cheek was pressed against his pillow, his soft lips parted slightly as he breathed in and out, the soft whir of it a soothing sound. His dark hair, which had turned a shade of golden brown in the heat of the San Diego sun, was rumpled and messy and you had never felt more inclined to tangle your fingers in those tantalizing curls. With his eyes still firmly shut, his dark lashes were kissing the tops of his sunburned cheeks. You had to force back a laugh at the sight of his reddened skin. How many times had you scolded him for spraying sunscreen directly into his face like a madman? And yet, despite his best efforts, he somehow always managed to get burned to a crisp.

Still, he had never looked more handsome to you.

Rolling slowly onto your side, the added bulk of Baby B making you a bit more clumsy, you reached out and traced intricate patterns onto the bare skin of his back, shivering with pleasure at the feel of how warm his body was.

Letting out a soft and sleepy moan, Bradley slowly started to stir and you stilled your hand for a moment, your lips curving up into an affectionate smile. Admiring the way the morning light was cascading down his sunkissed skin, you couldn’t resist leaning forward and pressing delicate kisses to the delicious freckles that were scattered across his shoulders, always made darker after hours spent shirtless in the sun.

At the feel of your warm lips brushing against his back, Bradley stirred further, his dark eyes cracking open as he let out another soft groan, one of pleasure this time.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” you whispered against him, your lips continuing to trail kisses across his upper back as your fingers danced slowly down his side.

“Mmm, happy birthday to me,” Bradley grinned, his voice still raspy and hoarse from just waking up. The deep timbre of it sent shivers all the way down to your toes. He lifted his head slightly, his eyes blinking the last vestiges of sleep away. “What a way to start the day,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you apologized, returning to your position on your back as your husband rose up on one elbow to gaze down at you, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

“No apologies necessary, honey,” he assured you, dipping his head low so that he could kiss you more thoroughly, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you knotted your fingers in his messy curls.

“You’ll have to get up and get ready for work soon,” you panted when he finally tore his lips away from yours and began sucking softly on your neck, his large, calloused hands slipping beneath the oversized T-shirt you’d worn to bed last night. You bit your lower lip in pleasure as you wrapped one leg around his, loving the way his body still found ways to meld to yours, even with your growing belly.

“Mmm, soon,” he murmured, nodding in agreement as he nipped gently at your collarbone. “But not yet,” he smirked, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Making love to your husband as the early morning light began breaking through the gossamer curtains of your bedroom window seemed like the perfect way to kick off his birthday celebration this year. Judging from the sated, blissful expression on his face as he collapsed on his back beside you, Bradey certainly thought so anyway.

“Damn, now I really am regretting not asking Cyclone for the day off,” Bradley laughed breathlessly, tugging you closer to his side and kissing you deeply.

“Told you so,” you smirked playfully, nudging his side as you kissed him in return. You sighed as you glanced over the alarm clock and saw that it was almost seven. “You should probably start getting in the shower. I’ll make you breakfast,” you told him, starting to rise up in bed.

“Uh-uh,” Bradley replied, shaking his head and stopping you in your tracks with an arm across your chest. “Forget breakfast. I’m not showering without you,” he grinned, climbing out of bed and scooping you up into his arms.

“But they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” you joked, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bathroom.

“You’re the most important meal of the day,” he shot back with a mischievous wink, his face splitting into a huge grin.

You threw your head back laughing at that one, swatting at his chest with one hand. “What a line that was, Lieutenant,” you grinned.

“Did it work?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Only because it’s your birthday,” you giggled, leaning forward and kissing him sweetly.

After a shower that was certainly longer than Navy regulation, Bradley reluctantly got dressed while you hurried to the kitchen to make him some toast and a quick cup of coffee. Grabbing his lunch from the fridge, complete with the little handwritten note you’d tucked inside for him, you handed it all to him as he got ready to walk out the door.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, resting his hand on the back of your head as he pulled you in for a kiss. “This is already an amazing birthday, honey,” he added with a wink.

“It’s just getting started,” you smiled, smoothing down the collar of his uniform and giving him one more quick kiss. “Have a great day at work.”

Bradley nodded, giving you one last squeeze before juggling all his things and heading towards the door. “I promise I’ll be home as quickly as I can.”

“We’ll be here,” you told him, grinning as you rested your hand on your belly and felt another strong kick.

“Don’t let Mommy work herself too hard, Baby B!” Bradley called with a laugh, and then he was gone.

“Listen, I promise I’m not going to overdo it, but we have to make the day special for Daddy,” you whispered conspiratorially, looking down at your growing bump. When you felt a little nudge in response, you grinned. “See? I knew you’d understand.”

Changing into a pair of stretchy yoga pants and one of Bradley’s old T-shirts, you set about pulling out all the birthday decorations you’d secretly ordered to decorate the apartment with. From balloons to streamers to confetti to a large “Happy Birthday, Bradley!” banner, within a couple hours, you’d managed to make your home look like an advertisement for Party City.

“Whew,” you breathed out, pulling your hair back from your now sweaty neck and tying it up into a quick ponytail. You were breathing harder than expected after hanging everything up, and a quick rest on the couch seemed like a good idea. “You’re kind of heavy, you know that?” you teased affectionately, poking at your belly. “Mama used to be able to do all of this without breaking a sweat, but now I feel like I just ran a marathon. But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide,” you laughed, massaging your stomach as you leaned back into the couch cushions with a sigh.

You didn’t have much time to relax, however. If you wanted everything to be ready for when Bradley got home from work, you had to start working on dinner and his cake now.

“Alright, Baby B, back to work we go,” you murmured, lifting yourself up off the couch with a soft groan and rubbing your lower back as you waddled into the kitchen. After trying for so long to get pregnant, you could honestly say that you loved and appreciated every moment of your pregnancy thus far, but you’d also be lying if you said that it wasn’t taking a lot out of you physically, especially as you headed into the final stretch.

It was also becoming harder and harder to wrap your head around the fact that this would be the last birthday you and Bradley celebrated together, just the two of you. Come next year, you’d have an almost one-year-old, which was still too crazy to think about. It would be wonderful, but different, which was why you wanted to make today so particularly special.

Now that all the decorations were up, you turned your attention towards dinner. Considering your oven was only so big, you had to manage your time wisely to ensure that both dinner and Bradley’s birthday cake would be ready in time. But you’d timed it all down to the last minute, so you were confident everything would be fine.

Since you were making Bradley’s birthday dinner yourself this year, you’d decided on the chicken pot pie that he loved so much. His mom had made it for him all the time when he was growing up, and you’d spent a long time trying to perfect Carole’s recipe until you got it just right. The day Bradley’s face had lit up and he’d told you that it tasted just like his mom’s was still one of the proudest moments of your life. In addition to the pot pie, you were also preparing a fresh garden salad, creamy mashed potatoes, and cornbread.

As all that was finishing baking, you pulled out the ingredients for Bradley’s chocolate chip cake and began mixing them together until the batter was thick and tasted like heaven—you could never resist stealing a little lick. Wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, you moved back and forth between checking on the food and preparing the cake pans until you felt a bit dizzy. Once everything was settled, you told yourself, you’d take a quick rest.

At the sound of your phone buzzing on the counter, you turned and smiled when you saw that Phoenix was texting you a ton of pictures.

Don’t worry, we’re taking care of your boy until he can get home!

Your smile widened as you swiped through photo after photo of the little party the Dagger Squad had thrown for Bradley. The rec room on base was decked out with balloons and a small sign that looked like it had been written in Bob’s firm hand. Bradley was sitting in front of a cake that had come from his favorite bakery, everyone else gathered around him for a big group shot. There were also individual pictures of him with Mav, Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, Hangman, Hondo and some of the others. You even thought you spotted Cyclone in the back of one photo, a slice of cake in hand.

Amazing! Looks like you guys are having a great time! Thank you for organizing it!

Of course! He’s having a good day, but he can’t stop talking about getting home to you! You’re not overdoing it, are you?

Did Bradley tell you to ask me that?

Maybe. But the question still stands.

I’m fine. I’m going to take a break once dinner is ready and I get the cake started in the oven.

He’s lucky to have you! Talk to you soon!

A few minutes later, dinner was finished, the chicken pot pie and cornbread sitting on the counter to cool while you grabbed the pans full of cake batter and set them on your baking tray in the oven.

Rising up with a slight wince and a yawn, you held your back with one hand while cradling your belly with the other. “Okay, Baby B, time for a short nap while Daddy’s cake bakes,” you murmured, checking the oven one last time before making your way to the bedroom, where you promptly crawled under the covers and passed out.

You had thought for sure that you’d set a quick alarm on your phone before falling asleep, but evidently your exhausted brain had been playing tricks on you because you suddenly woke with a start when the smell of something burning hit your nostrils. Gasping, you shot up in bed and looked at the clock on your bedside table, horrified to see that you’d been asleep for over an hour.

“No, no, no,” you mumbled frantically, slipping out of bed as quickly as your cumbersome body would allow and hurrying to the kitchen, where the smell of burning grew worse, tendrils of smoke starting to drift out of the oven.

Clutching your face in your hands, you let out another gasp before shutting off the oven and hurrying to open all the windows in the apartment, terrified of setting off the smoke alarm. When you walked back into the kitchen, you opened the oven slowly, holding your breath as a ton of smoke was released into the room. As it cleared, you waved your hand back and forth in front of your face and were devastated to see the burnt remains of Bradley's birthday cake, crusted inside your baking pans, the top layer blackened from being left in the oven for more than double the amount of time it should have been.

“Oh, no,” you whimpered softly, feeling your eyes and throat burn with unshed tears as you grabbed a pair of oven mitts and reached for your ruined dessert, your heart plummeting inside your chest as you lifted it up for closer inspection. It was completely beyond salvaging.

You could fix this. There was still time. You could jump in the car, hurry to the store, pick up fresh ingredients, and—

The sound of the key turning in the lock made your heart sink even further as you stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, the remains of Bradley’s ruined birthday cake still in your hands.

“Honey, I’m home! I managed to get out a little early and—honey?!” You could hear the playful tone of Bradley’s voice quickly turn to panic as he clearly smelled the evidence of your disastrous mistake. A second later, he was running into the kitchen, eyes wide with worry. “Honey!” he exclaimed again, rushing to your side and checking you over until he was satisfied you were unharmed. “What happened?”

Your chin wobbled miserably and you couldn’t even look him in the eye as you held out the cake pan you were still grasping onto tightly. “I burned your birthday cake,” you confessed, your voice quaking as you fought to get the words out.

Bradley’s eyes softened and he reached out to cup your cheek gently, brushing his thumb against your skin. “Oh, baby, it’s alright,” he assured you, carefully prying the singed pan out of your hands and setting it down in the sink.

“No, it isn’t!” you burst out, suddenly breaking down in tears, your entire body trembling as you were wracked with sobs. “You were so excited about that cake! And it’s your birthday! I ruined your birthday!” You buried your face in your hands as you cried and turned away from him, so disappointed in yourself for having made such a stupid mistake.

“Hey! No, you didn’t!” Bradley insisted instantly, immediately coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. “You didn’t ruin anything, honey,” he cooed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and rocking you gently in his embrace.

When you just continued to cry, shaking your head as if to refute his words, he reached for your shoulders and turned you slowly until you were facing him, though you still wouldn’t look at him. “Hey,” he said again, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifting your face until you had no choice but to gaze into his eyes, so warm and compassionate as always. “You decorated this whole apartment for me,” he told you, indicating all the decorations you’d spent hours putting together. “You made me an amazing lunch and an incredible dinner from what I can tell,” he went on, pointing his chin in the direction of the counter where the chicken pot pie and cornbread were resting. “And are you forgetting this morning?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows in an attempt to make you laugh. “That alone made it my best birthday yet. How could you think that you ruined it?”

He was trying to make you feel better. Your sweet husband was always so quick to cheer you up whenever you were feeling down, even if it was over the silliest thing. But you still felt awful. He was so excited about his chocolate chip birthday cake. He’d been talking about it for days. Bradley never asked for anything on his birthday, but he had asked for that. And you’d completely ruined it.

“It was what you wanted,” you replied tearfully, your face crumbling as you began crying anew. “And today was supposed to be special!”

“It is special,” Bradley countered, attempting to thumb your tears away. But they were falling too fast at this point.

“No! It isn’t!” you cried, whirling away from him and hiding your face behind your hands once more.

Bradley sighed, watching you silently for a moment or two. As well as you knew him, and could read everything he did and said, he could do the same for you. And he knew the reason you were so upset wasn’t just about some cake getting burned.

Stepping closer to you, he rested his hands on your shoulders and waited until you lowered your hands slowly before murmuring gently, “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”

You let out a shaky breath and looked up at him with watery eyes, and you could practically hear his heart breaking as he gazed back at you.

“Oh, honey,” Bradley whispered, rubbing your back soothingly as he pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table and settled you down in it before crouching in front of you, his big hands resting warmly on your thighs. “What is it?”

“It’s your last birthday with just the two of us,” you told him slowly, feeling a bit silly as you voiced your thoughts aloud. “I just—I wanted it to be special. Next year, things are going to be so different.” You instinctively moved your hand to your rounded belly.

“Baby,” Bradley breathed out, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs slowly. “You’re right, things are going to be different. But it’ll be a good kind of different,” he comforted you, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You felt your face scrunch up as more tears started to fall. “I know,” you nodded, even as a few fat tears rolled down your cheeks and spilled onto your shirt. “God, I must sound so awful, like I don’t even want our baby around, after how long we spent—”

“I don’t think that at all,” he told you firmly, cutting you off before you could even finish your sentence. “I think you’re exhausted, and that you’ve been pushing yourself way too hard, that’s what I think.”

“I’m just—I’m scared,” you confessed quietly, your voice almost like a whisper, like it was some kind of shameful secret. “I love our baby more than anything, and I’m so excited that we’re starting a family together, but now that we’re getting close, it just feels like everything’s changing so quickly and there’s nothing I can do to control it.”

Bradley chuckled softly, reaching up to cup your face as he looked directly into your eyes. “Honey, there’s nothing in this life we can control. I know you hate to hear that because you love to take care of everything and everyone, but it’s the truth. It’s something I’ve learned over and over and over again. No matter what we do, no matter how tightly we hold onto things, we can’t control anything. We just have to enjoy this life, moment by moment, for what it is and hold onto all the good bits. Our life is beautiful now, and it’s going to be even more beautiful whenever Baby B decides to make his or her grand entrance,” he grinned, tenderly running a hand over your belly. “I know it’s scary. Trust me, I’m scared, too. But we’re in this together. Always.”

Smiling through your tears, you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against your husband’s, holding his precious face in your hands as if you were holding a priceless treasure. “How’d you get to be so smart, huh?” you asked softly, laughing as you pressed a light kiss to his lips.

Bradley smiled as well, resting his hands over yours. “Well, you know what they say. Another year older, another year wiser,” he teased.

Letting out a soft sigh, you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled your nose against his, trying to soak in how grateful you were for this particular moment in time and for the gift of your husband’s life, which was what today was really all about. “I still feel terrible about your birthday cake,” you admitted, the corners of your mouth turning down slightly as you glanced over at the oven. “I just meant to take a short nap, but I must have forgotten to set an alarm, and when I woke up, I could smell it burning.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Bradley said seriously, stroking your cheek as if to ensure that you really were safe. “When I walked in and smelled that—well, you had me really scared there for a minute, honey.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling even worse that you’d worried him and then forced him to be the one to comfort you on his special day. “Your birthday is—”

“Honey, my birthday is just a day,” he told you, taking your hands in his and squeezing gently. “What makes it special is how loved you always make me feel. The decorations, the parties, the cake—they’re all amazing, sure, and I’m always so thankful for them, but they wouldn’t mean anything without all the love and the care you put into them. That’s what I love most about my birthday. Just getting to be with you. Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“Ugh, please, no cake references for a little while,” you murmured, your eyes glistening with tears at your husband’s words. Smiling, you leaned forward and kissed him, then laid your head on his shoulder. “I love you so much, Bradley Bradshaw. You deserve to be celebrated every single day. I would be so lost in this life without you.”

“Ditto, honey,” Bradley grinned, rising slowly and lifting you up with him. He smoothed your hair back from your face and dropped a loving kiss on your forehead. “You’ve given me the greatest gift anyone could ever give, just by loving me and walking through this life with me. Not to mention making me a dad,” he said softly, his own eyes glistening as he cradled your swollen stomach with one hand. “I love you more than words could ever describe.”

Wrapping your arms around each other, you and Bradley stood holding one another in the middle of the kitchen, swaying back and forth, for what felt like hours. Or maybe it was only seconds. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. When you finally pulled back, Bradley smiled and kissed your tear-stained cheeks.

“Not to ruin this moment, but I think that chicken pot pie is starting to call my name,” he laughed, his stomach grumbling as if on cue.

Giggling, you nodded and stepped around him to grab the dinner you’d prepared. “Sit down and I’ll get it all ready,” you told him.

“Nope,” he shot back, stepping up beside you. “It’s my birthday, and I insist on serving you. You sit down and I’ll get everything ready.”

“But Bradley, I—”

“No arguing with the birthday boy,” he grinned, steering you towards the table.

Knowing it was no use arguing with him, stubborn man that he was, you just smiled and sat back as he laid out the chicken pot pie, salad, mashed potatoes, and cornbread. Thankfully, you’d already set the table earlier in the afternoon.

“Happy Birthday, my love,” you told him before the two of you dug into your meal.

“Thank you, baby. It’s been a great one,” he smiled.

You and Bradley enjoyed dinner, Bradley praising your cooking about a hundred times before the meal was through, and then hopped into the Bronco to make a quick trip to the grocery store, where you picked up some birthday cake flavored ice cream.

“This will have to do until I can make you that chocolate chip cake,” you told him ruefully, holding it up once the two of you got home.

“Sounds good to me,” Bradley replied, pulling two spoons out of the drawer with a wink.

Between the two of you, you ended up polishing off the container of ice cream before cleaning up the kitchen and getting ready for bed. You had just finished stripping off your yoga pants and T-shirt when Bradley came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“You know,” he whispered, his mustache scraping against your skin as his lips began descending down your neck and across your shoulder. “The ice cream was great and all, but I kind of had another dessert in mind for tonight.”

You smiled as your head fell back against his shoulder, your body already feeling like putty in his hands. “Oh, yeah? Not the chocolate chip cake, you mean?” you asked teasingly.

“Uh-uh,” he mumbled, catching your sensitive skin lightly between his teeth as he nibbled his way back up to your ear. “Something even sweeter.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest as his hands began stroking your sides, and you turned your head to look up at him. “What a line that was, Lieutenant,” you smirked, echoing your words from that morning.

“Did it work?” he smirked in return, clearly catching on to what you were playing at.

“Only because it’s your birthday,” you beamed, giggling as he lifted you up into his arms and carefully laid you out on the bed.

Grinning mischievously, Bradley pulled his shirt over his head and climbed onto the bed a moment later, his arms on either side of you as he hovered over you and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Best birthday ever.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #rooster x wife!reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller #mr. & mrs. bradshaw

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