#aviation foams | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofsappho · 1 year

Text

Heartless

🔞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, smut in the next chapter (and the chapters after).

Reader is disabled/chronically ill (and so is the author)

You need health insurance. Ghost is sick of sharing living quarters with the rest of the 141. Soap, your childhood friend, thinks the two of you can fix each other’s problems.

Or, Ghost and you have to convince his command that you didn’t just meet each other and your marriage is totally, completely, 100% legit. Not for any, more practical reasons. And, of course, your married-couple accommodations only have one bed.

Chapter 1:

This will either be the stupidest decision you’ve ever made or the greatest stroke of brilliance you’ve ever had. And there is no in-between.

When Soap ducks his head into the coffee shop, you’re more than a little relieved to see him in one piece, plus or minus a few silvery scars scattered across his face and peeking out of his sleeves, the collar of his jacket.

And the dumbass aviators you bought him as a high school graduation present hang from the dip of his shirt. You know Soap thinks he looks badass, but the placement reminds you more of ‘Patagonia dad who likes hiking’ than it does ‘mysterious hardened special forces dude.’

He’s so built that he has to carefully pick his way between crowded tables, just so he doesn’t knock over someone’s drink or trip into a random stranger’s elbow.

You more or less tackle him into the biggest hug you can. “Soap! You’re not dead!” Ever since he joined his super-duper-top-secret whatever the fuck, you’ve gotten used to the communication dead zones in your years-long friendship. The silence never stops worrying you, though.

Johnny chuckles and practically lifts you off your feet. “Neither are you! Congratulations!” You know he’s relieved to see you as well by the way he ruffles your hair.

You fucking hate it when he does that, which is, of course, why it’s become a tradition every time you see him.

He pisses you off, you piss him off. “Twinning!”

The glare he tosses your way has all the menace of a kitten attacking a curtain. “Fuck does that mean? You know I can’t keep up with your American slang.” You’re a good friend who pre-ordered his ridiculous caramel latte with extra caramel, and Soap sits happily in front of it.

He learned that he enjoyed heart-stoppingly sweet drinks on accident - a case of mistaken identity where you unintentionally grabbed Soap’s macho Americano, and he drank half of your caramel latte in revenge. And here you are, years later, watching him slurp down a milk foam heart.

“Awww, too much for the brain cells you have left?” Teasing him as easy as breathing and a welcome distraction for the anxiety attack-inducing question you must ask.

The general coffee shop ambient noise swells in your ears. An espresso machine malfunctions, almost loud enough to make you jump, and you try to disguise it by sipping your iced tea. No caffeine; you’re nervous enough without it.

“I could have you arrested for that,” Soap quips. Please. As if you’d let him try. One call to his commanding officer about his pre-service shenanigans, and you’d have his ass court-martialed.

“Abuse of the power of the Armed Forces? Very ethical.” You raise an eyebrow and lace your voice with haughtiness, even flicking some hair over your shoulder.

Then you need to pass Johnny a few napkins to mop up the latte dripping from his nose out of laughter. “I’m glad to see you,” He tells you, and the sober, knowing look in his eyes makes your stomach drop out. He doesn’t miss a thing. He’d probably be dead or fired from his job if he did. “Though I know this isn’t a social call.”

Well. You’re in for it now. “Yeah, unfortunately, it isn’t.” The words taste like dust in your mouth, and the lemony-black tea barely washes it out. Just to give yourself something to do, you pop the plastic lid off and tip a couple of ice cubes into your mouth before chomping down.

“What’s going on?”

How do you summarize the horrifically, brutally stressful whirlwind of the last few weeks without inspiring the annoying, patronizing pity you’ve gotten from literally everyone else you’ve vented to? You’re not a victim to be coddled or a child to be given advice you’ve already thought of, tried, and failed at.

“I’m losing my health insurance at the end of the month” is what you decide on in the end.

He knows exactly what that means for you. For your future. Soap shakes his head ruefully. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You’ve been sick for a while, diagnosed the year after the two of you graduated high school. The kind of sick that is simply a freak accident of nature, causing your body to attack itself over and over until the day you’ll drop dead from complications. It wouldn’t take much; maybe a regular infection burning you alive with a fever your crippled immune system can’t stop, or a benign cut from a kitchen knife that will bleed and bleed until you’re halfway to the coroner’s office.

And then there’s your shitty, damaged, degenerated spine that keeps you in bed for weeks at a time with crippling, numbing pain.

Without health insurance, things won’t look good for your quality of life. And you like your quality of life to be decent. You’d settle for passable.

Really, it sounds worse than it is, and you try to console him. “It’s okay. It was eventually going to happen. I had hoped to have a little more time, though.” You remember the call from the insurance company like it just happened yesterday. You were loading dishes into the dishwasher and listening to Fleetwood Mac on the radio. And some poor customer service representative told you they were increasing your monthly payments beyond what they knew you could afford, so they’d have to drop you.

You watch him open his mouth as if to tell you that you should’ve said something sooner. But he’s been deployed for the past four months. He pauses and resets to something a little more helpful. “How can I help?” That’s something you have liked about Johnny a lot since you were kids. He cares more about what he can do.

Your anxiety permits your lungs to take one big, fortifying inhale. “Well…” Dragging it out will only make this worse, you know, but you really, really, really hate that it’s come to this. “This is fucking embarrassing.” You tried to find a way to pay the premiums; you really did. But you work forty hours a week already and trying to get more shifts, maybe find a new job, do this, do that, appeal, all of that has been futile and draining. “Will you marry me?”

He drops his half-empty cup on the table, forceful enough that some of the coffee spills out. “What?”

Soap’s partially-scandalized shock is not what you hoped for as a reaction. But you suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything better.

The worst part of this conversation is over. It can’t get more nerve-wracking. “Marry me. Like. Get legally married. I could get on military benefits, and my meds would be covered.” He doesn’t swing your way, but surely signing some paper and standing before a judge is, like, not the most terrifying thing Soap has ever done. “And- and I know there’s stuff in it for you, too, like a better apartment or whatever. I can cook. Better than you, that’s for sure.” One of your friends had to teach him how not to burn water.

He just sits there in silence. “Please,” You add on softly. Desperately. This is your last-ditch attempt, your Hail Mary.

At last, Soap’s shoulders slump, and you know, from that alone, that he’s gonna say no. Miracles are rarely performed for ordinary people. “I would if I could, but… I’m sort of already married,” He sighs, then winces, waiting for your inevitable unhappy outburst.

…

You blink a few times, brain furiously recalibrating everything you know. John got married, and he didn’t even invite you? Or tell you? You’re supposed to be his friend. That’s so rude, ouch. You would have even gotten him some expensive shit off his gift registry.

A fucking Keurig, for God’s sake. “What? Who?” You demand, more outraged that he would leave you out of his life than you are over him declining your proposal

Underneath that deep, sunburnt tan, you see Soap blush. “Jeremy from final year.”

You’d throw your empty cup at him, but he’d just duck. “I knew you were fucking him! I knew it! You tried to gaslight me and say you weren’t, but I saw the hickies on his neck!” There were only so many times Johnny ducked out of a math classroom covered in sweat, followed shortly by your classmate, before you put the pieces together.

Oh, but the rest of your friends called you a conspiracy theorist and told you to mind your business. Now, who’s laughing?

Soap holds his hands up in the universal ‘don’t shoot’ sign. “He needed health insurance. We’re married on paper. Haven’t seen him in a few years, but I know he’s doing alright.” Naturally, he’s already selflessly committed marriage fraud. You honestly should’ve seen that coming; that’s why you wanted to propose in the first place and figured you’d have a slim chance of success.

“Shit.” Now you’re back to square one. And it’s a shitty square, with walls that close in around you with every passing second.

The regret in his eyes overflows when he sees your slumped shoulders, how you’re picking at your cuticles hard enough to bleed. “‘M sorry. If I wasn’t locked down, you know that I’d do it for you in a heartbeat.” The worst part is that you know he’s being sincere, not just parroting empty platitudes.

Right. Well. That’s it, then.

You rub at your closed eyes, then at the stress wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Fuck. It’s fine, I know. I will… I’ll figure it out,” You sigh. Less than convincing, but it doesn’t need to be.

There are probably options you just haven’t thought of yet. Or maybe you can work something out with your doctor, where you only get your meds every other month. “I got it covered. Don’t worry about me.” You instantly see Soap rush to shake his head, to tell you that he’s always worried about you. You want to chastise him, tell him that he has plenty of things to be worried about in his own life. “Shush. It’s fine.” But you don’t have the heart to rake him over the coals for it now, so you settle for that.

You should go. You have things to do, things that include crying in your bed with the curtains drawn and urgently refreshing your email to see if anyone's gotten back to you. New jobs, aid organizations for low-income people, any further bad news.

Soap catches your wrist before you can say the appropriate goodbyes and rush out of the cafe. “Look- hold on- let me… let me ask my… friends.” He wrinkles his nose as he says it with an odd, stilted tone. Like ‘friends’ is a replacement for something he can’t say out loud in a civilian setting.

You can put the pieces together. “Is that what you’re calling your coworkers?”

“That’s classified, shut up.” His Scottish accent pops out there stronger than good malt whiskey. Hope is an easily-caught flame and far more difficult to extinguish. When you smile at him, you find it’s not entirely false. “Let me ask around, okay? They’re good guys. You might need to do the heavy lifting with your sparkling personality, but I can try.”

‘Sparkling personality’ is sort of ominous. ‘Don’t give them shit,’ is what he means to say. That’s fine, you’ve worked in customer service before. You can be on your best behavior.

You’re not exactly sure what kind of dude would be willing to marry a stranger, even if that is the kind of dude you want to marry.

But desperate times, desperate measures. “Thank you. Really. It would mean the world and… would probably save my life.” You didn’t mean to get as choked up at the end as you do. No one else has been willing to help you, though, and Soap’s answering hug feels like desperately needed hope reviving itself in your chest.

“I’ve got you. And I hope I can help in the end, even if it’s not what you originally had in mind.”

Soap runs through his team members in his mind as he waits for the gate guard to scan his ID, trying to recall who’s tied down and who isn’t.

Captain’s got a wife, he thinks, and he’s a wee bit too old for you anyway.

It takes a second for the starry-eyed guard to hand him back the card and lift the gate.

You picked a good time to call him up; not only is he in town, menacing the local army base, but so is the rest of the 141—a rarity.

Vargas would certainly charm you, but Soap trusts Alejandro with you about as far as he could throw him.

Out of all the idiots he went to school with, you’re the only idiot who stuck around through the early years of his service, and you pursued your friendship like a hound after a fox even when he couldn’t properly reciprocate.

So John feels some responsibility for looking out for you, as you’ve always looked out for him.

Garrick wouldn’t be a half-bad choice. Dependable, responsible. Friendly, so your sham marriage would at least be enjoyable.

His mind drifts to his own errant mostly-platonic husband as he parks the borrowed car in his numbered space. Jeremy. The last time they spoke was over three years ago? Maybe four. Jeremy had found himself a new boyfriend and called to let him know, asking if Soap wanted a legal divorce. He was moving to some godforsaken corner of America. Florida? Maybe. That place has got too many fuckin’ states for him to remember them all.

They worked it out - they’d stay married, and Jeremy would keep out of his way. No love lost.

Roach could do it for you in a pinch as well. A little quiet, but maybe you’d work out something like him and Jeremy. Staying out of each other’s way.

Soap dismisses Lieutenant Riley without a second thought. On his best day, Ghost is about as inviting and amenable as a particularly hungry great white shark. And even if God himself came down from Heaven and changed Ghost’s heart to be interested, Soap would worry about you.

A lot. Even more than he already does, since the day you sobbed in his arms after school when you were first diagnosed. Since that day he had to help you out of bed because you could neither walk nor miss any more class.

Does he trust Ghost enough to fight alongside him? To have his back when there’s a gun against his head? Absolutely. Does he think Ghost would treat one of his oldest friends properly, befitting of the funny, kind, vibrant person you are? Abso-fuckin’-lutely not.

So that puts Gaz and Roach in his top choices for you and Vargas as a last-tier resort.

Armed forces worldwide, in Scotland and America, are all about efficiency. Eliminating redundancy.

And if that’s the excuse Johnny uses to justify blindsiding his whole team at once, so he doesn’t need to have this conversation three damn times and hear three separate rejections? That’s between him and God.

He herds them like sheep, plucking the Captain from his office, Garrick and Alejandro from conditioning in the gym, disturbing Roach’s book. Ghost appears out of nowhere as if summoned by the disturbance and falls in behind Soap. Not a single damn sound, of course. While that’s useful on deployment, he still has to tamp down on the instinct to jump every time he sees a skull mask hovering out of the corner of his eye in everyday life.

No matter. The lieutenant will likely wander out when the subject matter is revealed. It would raise more red flags if he told Ghost off.

He barely gets Lt. Riley through the pool room door before Captain jumps him. “Sergeant. What’s the trouble?”

That’s fuckin’ rude. “Why’d you assume I’m in trouble?” He indignantly replies. Except… yeah, there was that time he borrowed a humvee he had no permission to touch, and Captain covered for him to Laswell. Shit. “Well, I’m not.” At least, not this time.

Soap opens his mouth to argue this because it’s hardly fair for Cpt. Price to point fingers only to be cut off. “What is it?” At least Price has the decency to file the sharp edges off of his voice this time.

Right. He almost feels guilty getting sidetracked over something so stupid when he’s gathered everyone here for an infinitely more important reason.

Where does he start? How the fuck does he proposition them without sounding absolutely mental? “I… Hear me out.” Instantly, Garrick shakes his head ‘no,’ and Cpt.’s face remains as unmoved as a brick wall. Definitely not how he should have opened. “Wouldn’t be asking if the situation wasn’t desperate.” Soap opens his hands in the vain hope that the gesture will make them listen, at minimum.

You loathed hospitals and doctor’s offices when you first got sick. Now, you see the inside of them so often that it hardly fazes you. Still, Johnny always went along when you asked. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.

The countless memories of holding your hand as some faceless nurse sticks an IV in your elbow is the motivation that steps on the gas. “I have this friend,’ He tells them.

“You have friends?” If Vargas weren’t separated from him by the pool table, he’d reach over and stick an elbow in his side. What is it, official ‘piss off Sgt. MacTavish’ day?

They get in a laugh at his expense. “Shut up, you reprobate.” He puts enough bite in his tone to cut through the ruckus with the keenness of a knife. “I have this friend. Since I was a lad. She’s a good girl, good person. She needs our help.”

Everyone knows what he means by ‘good person,’ and the mere mention of a civilian girl in distress softens Gaz’s scowl and Alejandro’s scorn.

Their Captain nods, now significantly more amenable to this conversation than he was at the beginning. “Help?” Progress is progress, and for the first time, Soap allows himself to think he might be able to persuade someone.

“Yeah, well… you know these fuckin’ Americans. They don’t give a damn if people die like dogs in the streets. She lost her health insurance, and she’s… She’s ill. She’ll be ill for the rest of her life.” That’s something Johnny will never understand about this side of the pond. The NHS was never good, but at least it exists. All that freedom and shit, for what?

“Sorry to hear that. Fucking shame,” Price murmurs.

“I was wondering if any of you might be interested in marrying her. For the fuckin’... benefits. I dunno know what exactly they are, but she mentioned new living quarters for her soldier.” He really ought to have looked this up beforehand and found some other things to sweeten the pot. “I’m already married. Had to turn the poor lass down, and I told her I’d at least ask you lot.”

Their captain gets up and off his ass like the stool’s on fire. “Alright. MacTavish, I’m leaving the room now. I’m going back to my office, and do not disturb me until you’re done,” He orders, mustache practically fuckin’ bristling with urgency. “I didn’t hear or see a thing.” With his parting words finished, Johnny watches the man book it out of the pool room in double time.

While he understands and appreciates the discretion, was that truly necessary? They’ve all done exponentially worse things than this.

His first choice makes a break for it, too. “Sorry, Soap,” Garrick declines. “I’m out. I’m sure she’s a delightful person, though being friends with you doesn’t speak highly of her life choices. But that’s a big ask, and I just don’t know her.” The sergeant taps him on the shoulder as he walks out in a silent show of support.

“‘Course.” With each man who leaves, his worry increases.

What voicemails will await him after he returns from the next mission? That things went horribly wrong, and you’ll be hospitalized for the rest of your life, or maybe even dead?

Whatever it is, there won’t be anything he can do by then. That’s the worst part.

“Yeah, can’t do it either, Sarge. I got a girl already.” Right. There goes Sanderson.

At least Alejandro has the decency to look genuinely sympathetic. “Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

Soap watches him leave and wonders if you’re still awake. It’s not late for him, but who knows? Maybe you keep normal hours now. “Yeah, I will.” You’d prefer to hear the bad news as soon as possible, but he would hate to wake you for it.

But he can’t ignore the ghoul haunting the corner any longer. “What are you still doing here, Lt.? I’ve gotta tell her I can’t help, and I don’t think you’d care to overhear that conversation.” His voice is a little sharper than is nice and proper, overflowing with prickly irritation like too much tea in a cracked cup. Of all the times for Ghost to not mind his fucking business…

“…what she look like?”

“What?”

And Riley’s got the audacity to repeat himself, slower, as if he’s stupid. “What does she look like? Got a picture?”

“Is this a joke?” Simon should stick to shitty quips about goldfish. At least those are tasteful.

The man doesn’t laugh, shake his head, or leave now that he’s successfully rattled Soap. He just stands there, as grave as always. Motherfucker. He means it. “Fuckin’… yeah, hold on,” Soap sighs as he fumbles for his phone.

He’s desperate because you’re desperate. He tells himself that, over and over, as he looks for a half-decent selfie. You’re a big girl, you knew what you were risking when you asked him for help.

Ghost takes his phone in his gloved hand. “Not bad,” He murmurs after a while. “I’ll do it. Marry her.”

A beat passes. Soap lets another one go.

Alright. The grace period is over and done with. “This is a really shitty, serious thing to mess around about. Genuinely. Don’t do that to her or me. This is about her health. Her life.” Johnny likes Lt. Riley. Really, he does. Even under all the freaky mask shit.

But this is mean-spirited. It would almost be out of character. It’s one thing to be careless if his sparring partner walks away with permanent nerve damage. This is fucking cruel if he doesn’t mean it.

Ghost can read minds now. “I mean it.” His chuckle makes Johnny fix his surprised expression into something more stern and imperceptible. “She’s desperate, isn’t she? I’ll do it.” When he walks closer, the changing light makes that skull on his face flash in and out of existence.

“Why?” If he can’t come up with a somewhat satisfactory answer… Soap’s fist can probably reach him fine from here.

And in a rather remarkable show of humanity, he watches Ghost pinch the bridge of his nose through his mask. “Think I like listening to you snore? Or fuckin’ Roach chattering on Discord at four in the morning?” Johnny never knew Ghost was such a little princess about that. Who would’ve thought?

The other man huffs a laugh. “Need my beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, you do, the mask’s not doin’ you any favors,” Soap retorts as if on autopilot. That’s only their longest-running tiff. You’ve got your work cut out for you to deal with that ugly mug, he thinks.

“You want me to help her or what?”

Right. Right. “Sorry.” He examines Ghost’s body language, searching for any hint of dishonesty. “If you so badly want out of the shared bunks, how come you haven’t found someone else yet? Or some other way?”

“You think girls are lining up outside my door proposing marriage? You can’t even find me off duty. Now I ain’t gotta find… some other way,” He says before leaning back against the wall, at ease now that his argument’s been made.

“Fair point.” Fair, but fucking dumb. “I’ll tell her. She’ll say yes, I know she will.” Jesus, does he wish he’d been able to persuade Garrick.

Soap considers exactly how much you should know about your intended before this shit goes down. On the one hand, it might be better for you not to know much, other than that he’s found someone relatively trustworthy and willing. On the other hand… interacting with Lt. Riley is something that should only be done after signing a covenant not to sue.

“Whatever you do, don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough already. And I meant it when I said she’s a good person. Too good for either of us.”

Nobody gets through secondary school untouched. Especially not at that prissy international school you met him at, filled with over-privileged rich kids and army brats scraping the bottom of the barrel. Like the two of you.

When you were fourteen, you picked him up by the scruff of his Scottish neck with a smile on your face, then hit the bastard who hit him first. Thick as thieves ever since.

“And if you can’t find it in you to be nice, just… promise you’ll leave her alone.” At least you’re more than capable of making Ghost’s life a living Hell if he fucks with you. He takes comfort in that and a healthy amount of glee at the possibility of watching that play out. He’s got a front-row seat, after all.

Riley shakes his head. “As long as she ain’t a burden, MacTavish, no need to fuss and cluck.”

For a moment, Soap almost pities him.

“Don’t hurt her. Promise me that, right now,” He stresses. Just in case. At least eliciting this agreement might remind Ghost in the future to stay his hand.

The other man sighs. “I won’t,” He says at last. And Soap can tell he means it.

“Get out. I’ll let her know.”

1K notes · View notes

sunnysidevans · 2 years

Text

If You Only Knew - J.Seresin

Synopsis: Everyone has a highschool sweetheart, Jake Seresin had his Top Gun sweetheart, the woman he was gonna marry. A night of anger pushes the two of you apart. If you only knew Jake just wanted three things, love, a family and you.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mitchell!Reader // Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader (plationic)

Warnings: 18+ , angst, mentions of death,mentions of miscarriage, mentions of violence, mentions of depression , soft Bradley & eventually soft Jake, fluff. Top gun spoilers(kinda).

authors notes: I just want to say, please read the warnings for this fic as there are mentions of things that could possibly be triggering. I also just hope everyone enjoys this as I have put alot into this fic. Happy Reading.

italics are flashbacks. - bold are text messages.

Friday night.

The day where everyone reflects on the week and try to forget about it. The Hard Deck swarmed with people wanting to unwind from their week whether it was good, bad or ugly. Friday nights also meant the bar swarmed with Naval Aviators.

They followed one another easily, it filled quickly. By the time you clocked in for your shift, the bar was now filled with all khakis. “Get your butt over here!” Penny yells with a grin, serving the man in front of her with a kind smile.

“Comin I’m comin!” you chuckle, pushing behind the bar with a smile. Turning in your spot, stopping at the man smiling at you.

“Dad?” he laughs, looking you over.

“Don’t look so surprised to see your father” he smirks, watching the smile that makes it's way onto your face. Turning back around, you reach down and grab a glass, filling it with his usual.

“I thought you were in the desert” you say, watching the foam in the glass. Setting down infront of him, he shrugs.

“Top gun calls, I answer” smirking with a shake of your head. “Uncle Ice calls, you answer” you chuckle as he nods. He watches Penny move around the bar. “Say something would you,” you laugh watching as he rolls his eyes, Penny making her way over to him. As the door continued opening with Aviators. None of them meant a thing.

As the two of them flirted back and forth, you sighed. Aviators always flirted, sending winks your way and extra tips to go the extra mile. None of them were him. Two years of you denying winks and throwing away napkins with phone numbers.

You hated that you let yourself fall under his spell. It was easy to, he was blonde, green eyed and smooth talking. You tried to fault yourself as it was something you grew up around. It would be obvious for you to go out with one, almost marry him.

“(Y/N)” looking up at the sound of your name, smiling over your shoulder at your father. Moving to stand beside Penny, she smirks. “Get him another beer would ya” she sends him a wink, walking to the other side of the bar. You smile, taking his glass. “You look lost” he says, watching your face as you shrug. “I feel lost,” you say, smiling at him and setting the glass in front of him.

“You saved yourself as your mother would say, never marry an aviator” you shrug. “But Aunt Carol and Uncle Goose were happy” he sighs, nodding. “I know, you had a better role model in them than us” he sighs, resting his hand on top of yours.

“It’s okay to be upset, but I also want you to know, it’s okay to move on” he nods. What your father wasn't saying was he knew that he was gonna be strolling in the door and your life anytime now. That he was also called back to Top Gun, along with your best friend. Looking up at the sound of the door opening, your breath catches in your throat.

Bradley Bradshaw stood in all his glory standing at the door aviators resting on his nose with the Hawaiian shirt loose on his body. “One second dad” you send him a smile, moving around the bar.

“Bradley!” he looks over at the sound of his name, a smile making its way on his face.

“Hey you” you're running to him, colliding with his body as he catches you. “Oh my god” you whisper, more to yourself than him as he grins. Bradley Bradshaw was the one man you could count on, minus your father.

“I missed you so much" you are hugging him tighter as he laughs. “I missed you too Dove” he squeezes your arms, pulling apart from you. “Wait” you say looking up at him. “Are you back at Top Gun?” you ask, hands resting on his arms. He nods, smiling at you. “I got called back just a few hours ago” he says.

There was never romantic feelings between the two of you. Just sibling love, you spent all your summers at the Bradshaw home while Goose and your father were on deployments.

“You are staying with me, no ifs ands or buts" you say with a smile. He laughs, nodding. “Okay, I’ll be over in a few hours'" you nod, looking him over. “Let me get you a beer'' He follows you to the bar, avoiding eye contact with your father completely. You never knew what happened between the two of them but chose to never intervene.

“A beer for you Lieutenant” you smile, setting the beer infront of him. “Go have fun” you shoo him off towards his friends. “Bradshaw, Is that you?” the female voice yells as you smile.

“Go” you encourage him. You missed the rest of the group coming in. You look over at your dad with a sad smile. His focus is back on Penny, who is smirking at him. Within seconds the bell is ringing and the bar is full of cheers. “Oh god” you laugh, looking at Penny and then back at him. “So, did you disrespect the Navy or put your phone” you look down at the phone in front of him “on the bar”.

He shakes his head with a smile, sipping from the beer he had in front of him quietly. Moving around the bar, you handed drinks out as quickly as they came once the bell rang, everyone came for refills.

“Penny my dear, I’ll have four more on the old timer”

Your blood ran cold. You knew that voice instantly. You kept your back turned, head down and out of his eyesight. “Sure Hangman” she smiles grabbing the four beers. She sees the tension in your shoulders choosing to ignore it as she sets the beers in front of him. “Thanks pops” he winks.

Jake Seresin knew exactly what he was doing. It was almost three years ago they sat at the same bar discussing the ring that sat against his chest.

“You want to marry my daughter?” Maverick asks, looking at the blonde aviator beside him. “I do” he nods his hands around his beer bottle, eyes focused on the condensation as it rolled down onto his palms. “Why?” he asks, watching the man's shoulders slouch.

“She’s the only woman who’s-who’s put up with my shit” he chuckles, looking over at him. Maverick smiles, “because she’s had to put up with mine for so long, she understands” he nods, reaching over to give his shoulder a squeeze.

“You love her?” Jake nods eagerly, looking over at the man beside him. “I love her so much sir” his voice is soft but your father hears him loud and clear. “Okay, then you can marry her” Jake can’t help the smile that makes its way to his lips. “Really?” Maverick laughs, “Really”.

“Penny, I-I’ll be back” your voice is soft, tossing the towel on to the bar. Pushing through the sea of people and through the kitchen doors. Bradley watches from his side of the bar, furrowing his brows.

“I’ll be right back” he cuts Phoenix off as he sets his pool stick in Bob’s hands. “Dove?” his voice is soft when he pushes through the doors, looking around the kitchen. “Bradley you can not be back here” your voice is soft, strained. He hears you sniffle.

Jake nods in Mavericks direction as a silent thank you, the two may not like the other but he was raised to be respectful. He makes his way back to his friends, Coyote notices his shift. “What is it?” he asks his best friend, taking the beer from his awaiting hands.

“Maverick is at the bar, bought our beers” he says, sipping his drink. “Like as in (Y/N)’s father?” he inquires, Jake nods. “Is she here?” Coyote asks, watching his best friend. “I think so, she loves this place” he says over the rim of his beer.

“Dove” Bradley whispers, looking down at you with his brown puppy dog eyes. “Why are you crying?” he asks, hands resting on your arms as he stands in front of you. Holding back another round of tears, you squeeze his arm gently.

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head. “I saw the way your body reacted and the way you can’t even talk to me without crying” he reaches up, catching the stream of tears with his thumb. “It’s Hangman, what is he doing here?” you whisper, looking up at him. He nods, his mind going back to the last two years.

“I know, I swear I had no idea he would be here” you nod, looking at your best friend. He pulls you into his chest, giving your body an additional squeeze.

“Overboard, Overboard!” the bar crowd yelled, pulling you from Bradley’s arms. "Oh god” you sigh, pushing out the swinging kitchen doors. Jake hooks one arm under Mavericks armpits, Javy on the other. Watching the two of them with your hands on your hips and a shake of your head.

“Jake Seresin, get your hands off my father!” you yell over the chants.

It took a lot to strike fear in Jake Seresin but there were two people in the world who can make the hairs on his neck stand. His mother and you.

He turns around at the sound of your voice, arm dropping from Maverick's arm, “You too Javy,”. Making your way to the bar, looking at your dad. “Go home please” you whisper, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He nods, standing slowly.

“Come back and pay Penny tomorrow” you say as he is walking out the front door. Turning around, you face both men who stare at you dumbfounded. “Hi” Javy speaks first, looking at you with a side smile.

You had to admit, he was the nicer one of the pair. “Hi Javy'' you nod, sending him a soft smile. “What are you still doing here?” Jake asks, looking you over. You looked just as beautiful as you did when he left. “I work here dipshit” you look over at him, hands on your hips.

He nods, watching your face. “I-I expected you move on, somewhere far from Fightertown" he says. Javy takes that as his que to leave and makes his way back to the pool tables. “It’s nice to see you,” Jake says, looking at you with a smile. “I want to say the same Jake, I do”. He nods slowly, watching you. “Is it not?” he asks as he leans against the bar, you sigh. “No, it hurts me more to see you than it does to wish you weren’t here” you say, turning back to the bar with Penny.

The bar had finally cleared out , the last gentleman paying the last of his hefty bill. It left you and Penny in the empty bar. You tried to tell her you could close all on your own but she insisted. “Was it weird seeing him?” you ask, looking at her over your shoulder.

She has her back to you as she stacks chairs onto tables. “You know how I feel about your father (y/n)” you nod, biting your lip.

“I know, I just got a little worried I guess” you admit, setting the glass down and moving onto the next. “Why?” hands on her hips, she turns to face you. “I thought if seeing my dad again you’d let me go” you shrug, back still to her.

“Oh my gosh (y/n)” she’s moving to stand infront of you. “I love you and I love having you here so no, I’d never let my feelings for your dad dictate that” you nod, sending her a sad smile.

Her mother instincts kick in then, looking over your face. Still tear stained from the tears you tried so hard to hide from her. “What happened tonight?” she whispers, looking over your face.

“Jake Seresin happened” she furrows her brows, thinking back to the night. “Hangman is my ex-fiance” you say, looking back down at the glass, shining the same spot over and over. “What?” she asks, looking at you with wide eyes. “Jake and I were engaged about two years ago” her brain thinks back, nodding.

“I remember, he went overseas right?” you nod.

“I mean there was of course more to it but that was our breaking point” you say. “Seeing him brought back all those things again” you say, biting back the tears that made their way into your lash line. “Hey” she reaches over, hand resting on yours.

“If fate wanted it this way, then fate wanted it to be this way” she grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “I can’t get rid of your dad so I mean, that’s fate for us” you can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face. “I know” nodding, you set the glass down.

The bar door opens and Penny turns to yell at whoever it was. Jake stands there with his hands at his sides, a shy smile on his lips. “Hangman, we’re closed” she puts a hand on her hip. “I know, I uh-” he rubs the back of his neck, biting his lip. He was nervous.

“I wanted to talk to (y/n)” he says. She looks over at you, a knowing look on her face as you shake your head. “I won't be far” she whispers, walking back to the kitchen. Jake makes his way to the bar, sitting in front of you. He watches as you continue shining the glass, avoiding his eye.

“Please look at me” his voice is soft, almost pleading. You look up from the glass, sighing. “What is it?” you ask, setting the glass down , resting your hands on your hips. “It really is nice to see you,” he says, looking over your face.

It’s then he notices the tear stains, as well as the way you continued to avoid his eye. “You look good” you say with a sad smile, looking over his face. You notice the crinkle in his eyes as his signature smirk makes itself known. “I know,” he admits, causing a soft chuckle to fall from your lips. “What do you want to talk about?” you ask. “I want to catch up,'' he adjusts on the stool.

“Maybe take you out to dinner?” he asks hesitantly as you sigh. “I don’t know Jake..” you whisper. “Please?” his eyes are pleading. If you only knew this was something he longed for.

The chance to see you again. The homecomings of everyone else getting to see their wives, remembering that it was almost the two of you.

He always kept your first homecoming in the back of his mind, everytime he flew.

You stood in the airport with a big neon pink sign. You knew it was cheesy and far from something your boyfriend wanted but you had to go big for him and his best friend’s return.

“WELCOME HOME LIEUTENANT’S!” The two men laugh as they come down the escalator. “That’s your girl” Javy whispers to his best friend as he laughs, nodding. “She is, I can’t say I’d trade her for the world” he smiles. Making their way to you, smiling. Dropping his bag, Jake catches your body as it collides with his, hugging him tightly as a koala would stick to a human.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, he can hear your sobs. “Sweetheart” his voice is soft, reserved for you and you only. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you mumble as you're pulling away from his neck with a wide teary-eyed smile.

“God you look as good as you did when I sent you off” you grin, cupping his cheek. Javy scoffs beside him, shaking his head.

“Hi” you grin as Jake sets you to your feet, hugging Javy just as tightly. “Hi” he chuckles. Jake and Javy always knew you’d be there with awaiting arms to greet the both of them.

“Okay” your voice pulls him from his thoughts, looking back up at you. “I’ll text you?” he asks, biting his lip. “Sure” you nod, sending him a soft smile. He was shocked his number wasn’t deleted and blocked. “Are you gonna make it home safe?” he asks, standing from the stool. You nod, looking at him, “I will, Bradley is gonna pick me up” he nods slowly.

Bradley Bradshaw was a man of many things and he always managed to get under his skin. “Okay, let me know when you make it?” he asks in almost a whisper. You smile, Jake was a knight in shining armor, he wore his gear proudly to protect the ones he loved, you included. “I will Jake” he smiles, walking to the door, turning to face you one last time.

“Goodnight sweetheart" he smiles at the soft blush on your cheeks.

“Goodnight Jake” you send him a soft smile.

It was a week before you found out the reason they were brought back to Fightertown. They were pulled back to Top Gun for a special mission, a dangerous detachment that none of the pilots in your life could talk about.

You only knew the basics that it was dangerous and that someone could possibly not come back alive. Bradley sat across from you at the bar, a sad smile on his lips.

“He’s insufferable, how could you have possibly almost married him?” he asks, eyes landing on Hangman from over your shoulder. “He was very charming, '' you say, setting the new full beer bottle in front of him. “He’s gonna get someone killed if not himself” you nod, his words falling on deaf ears.

Jake Seresin held himself to a high standard, as soon as he joined the Navy he swore to himself that no one to ever see his flaws and to never let them see him fail.

“Sweetheart” you look up at the sound of his voice, looking at him over your shoulder with raised brows. He sends you the same smile that he always reserved for you, soft and full of love.

“What is a gorgeous thing like you doin back there servin beers?” Jake smiles at you, leaning his elbows on the bar. You turn to him with a raised brow, chuckling.

“Because some of us don’t fly planes for a living, '' you say with a chuckle, setting the fresh beer in front of him. His smile was wide and somehow soft. “How did you know I fly planes for a living?” he asks, his head tilting slightly.

You chuckle with a shake of your head, “I know your type plus I know what a pilot looks like '' looking him up and down you sigh. “And you fit the part,” you grin.

He stood in his civilian clothes, a pair of dark wash wrangler jeans and a simple dark green polo. “I’m at the Fighter Weapons School here on base” he says with a smirk, you laugh. “You are a Top Gun pilot?” you ask, his brows raise.

“You know about Top Gun?” he asks, your laugh continues. “My father graduated from Top Gun '' you say proudly. “My uncle runs the school” his eyes widened, “Iceman is your uncle?”. You nod, looking him up and down.

Jake Seresin knew at that moment, he’d marry the woman behind the bar.

“Same as always?” you ask. He nods, watching Rooster over your shoulder. The two men shared a similar look, both ready to pounce if one said the wrong thing. “Can you two not kill each other?” you ask, looking between the two of them. Setting the beer in front of Jake, you smile. “Here” his grin grows. “Thanks sweetheart” he winks, the blush makes its way to your cheeks.

You were his sweetheart, people had their highschool sweethearts, college sweethearts, you were Jake Seresin’s Top Gun sweetheart.

“Gross'' Bradley whispers more to himself as he sips his beer. You let out a heavy sigh. “He’s just being nice Brad” he rolls his eyes. “He wants you back, don't you know?” he says, looking at you.

“He’s gonna leave again Bradley and I’m not putting my heart through that. I’m here for when he returns to North Island and nothing more” you say with more bite behind your bark.

He holds his hands up in defense, “I’m sorry”. You shake your head, looking at him, “I know you don’t know exactly what happened but trust me, my heart can’t take that” he nods, watching the look on your face.

He didn’t miss the look of sadness that you quickly covered with a smile.

Locking the door behind yourself, you sigh. The Hard Deck never fails to tire you out but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“Need a ride?” you jump, looking over your shoulder at the voice. Jake stood at the end of the Hard Deck stairs, leaning on the post. You sigh, shoving the keys back into your purse. “I can walk" you say, shoving your hands into your pockets.

“I just want to talk (y/n)” he says, looking you over. “I know, but I-I don’t know if I’m ready for that” it felt weird voicing your thoughts out loud. Jake nods, hands in his pockets. “I never meant for this to be how we turned out, '' he says.

The rain poured heavily outside. It continued to slam against the windows. “I am heading to Germany in literally two days time, are you serious?” his voice was sharp,his eyes even sharper as he looked at you. “Yes” you are looking up at the man infront of you.

“Yes Jake, I’m sorry that you are going to Germany and could possibly have a child by the time you come back! Whenever that could be!” you yell, standing your ground. A late period starting the whole argument.

“I can’t have a child (y/n), I can’t possibly go to Germany and know that's happening here!” he defends, hands on his hips. “Jake, I understand that but what about me?! You are leaving me here!” you defend as he shakes his head. “You know how I feel about children, how could you let this happen?” you scoff, looking at him.

“Me?! You are the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!” you yell back. The thunder outside was no louder than your thoughts. “Jake, it’s me, we're gonna get married and start a family” he scoffs.

“Did you cheat on me?” The silence could be cut with a dull knife.

“Excuse me?” you ask, looking him up and down. “Did you cheat on me? There's no way that it could possibly be mine” you laugh. You laugh in his face. “I can’t believe you” you shake your head and begin pacing the kitchen. He sighs, hands on his hips.

“I don’t think we should get married,” he says in a whisper.

“I mean, my career is taking off, I could land a captain spot anyday and I don’t think I need this tying me down” he doesn’t miss the softness in your voice. You nod, pulling the engagement ring off of your finger and shoving it in his hands.

“Get out” you shove past him, ignoring him and the thunder that boomed outside of your once loving home.

Within three days you were sitting empty on the bathroom floor, the pink stick held tightly in your hands as you saw the lines that confirmed your biggest fear.

You were pregnant.

The pouring rain felt good on your burning skin, you went to the once place you knew you could. Pounding on the door, you ignore the ache in your chest as you hold the stick tightly in your hands. “Oh my god” Sarah’s voice is soft as she takes you in.

Tears now running with the rain as you stood soaked on her doorstep. “I-Is uncle Ice here?” you're whimpering as she’s pulling you out of the cold. “Tom!” she yells for her husband who worked at his desk upstairs. “What is it sweetheart?” he stops at the top of the stairs as he takes in your state.

In the days of Tom Kazansky raising his own children, you meant as much to him as his oldest daugher. “(y/n)” he’s rushing down the steps, wrapping you in his arms. You sob into his hard chest as he nods to Sarah, “get me a towel”.

He ignores the pink stick in your hand, he ignores the voice in his head that urges him to call your father. Even though he was off on a detachment that sent him to a different side of the world.

“I’ve got you honey” he’s kissing your forehead gently, swaying your shaking body.

“Sweetheart, you with me?” his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up at him.

“Why didn’t you want a family with me?” you ask with a shakyness. “Why was I not enough to hold onto in Germany?” you're crying now. He’s taking the steps two at a time, making his way to you. “I should’ve never said those things to you” he says, stopping infront of you.

“I should have been honest with you and told you I didn’t think I was ready to be a father, a husband” he takes your hand. You shake your head, pulling your hand from his.

“I suffered alot while you were in Germany, I should not have gone through that alone and I did Jake '' you say, voice shaking. Stepping away from him, his face turns to confusion. “I took a test about three days after you left,” you say, hugging yourself as you turn away from him.

“It was positive,” you whisper. “I carried our babyboy for about two months, then I had a miscarriage” your voice shakes. “I suffered that loss with no one, not even my dad” you sigh, wiping your cheeks. “So I can’t just forgive you so easily Jake” turning to face him, his own tears began rolling down his cheeks.

"I had no idea if you were even alive” you say.

“I kept everything” he says, looking from your face to his shoes.

“What?” you ask, looking at him with furrowed brows. “If you only knew that I kept your letters, I kept your ring” he pulled the chain from his shirt, looking at you as the ring sat tucked between his dog tags.

“If you only knew that I couldn’t sleep for months on the carrier, Rooster had to listen to me toss and turn for days” he says, watching your face. “The only thing that got me through Germany was you” he looks away, letting his tears fall freely.

“You never mentioned our son in your letters” he says with his own voice breaking. “I know, I didn’t think you cared” the admission hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

“I did, I cared about you for so many years (y/n), I still care about you”.

The sound of gravel pulls the two of your eyes away from each other. Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, hands on his hips. “Hangman” his tone was defensive. “(y/n), you okay?” he asks, climbing the stairs.

“I’m okay Brad, I promise” you say with a smile. “I think we should talk about this another time” you say, looking at Hangman. “You have an important mission coming up, you gotta be on your game” walking past him, you pat his shoulder in support.

“(y/n)” his voice is pleading, looking at you. “I love you” shaking your head, you sigh. “Good luck Jake” you make your way down the steps and to the Bronco.

Jake can’t help the chill that runs down his spine at the daggers Rooster sent his way. He knew Bradley loved hard and if you hurt someone he loved, he came with a vengeance.

Bradley ignored the tears stained on your cheeks as he started the car, driving towards your shared apartment.

The apartment was a mess. Bradley couldn’t ignore the nag in the back of his mind, this wasn’t you. “Dove?” he asks through the apartment. He had no idea if you were even here. “Roos?” you try to stand from the bathroom floor, wiping your mouth with a towel.

He catches you before you can make it off the floor, looking you over. “Hi” your voice is hoarse from the last twenty minutes of vomiting.

You are sniffling as his brown eyes soften. “I-I’m sorry I wasn’t there-” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “What is going on?” he asks, moving into the bathroom dropping all of his bags at the door.

Shaking your head and holding your arms out to him, he helps you off the cold floor. “I missed you” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “I missed you too, now tell me what’s going on, are you sick?” he asks with worry in his voice. It’s then he notices the small bump.

“You're pregnant?” he asks as you nod slowly,looking up at him as the tears begin to cascade down your cheeks like a river.

“Dove?” you look over at the sound of Bradley's voice. “You okay?” he’s whispering, the Bronco now parked in the apartment parking lot. “No,” you admit, looking at him.

His eyes soften, he takes your state in then. “I told him” your voice breaks as you admit it, looking away from him as if he'd be disappointed in you. “I told him I lost our baby and-” its then a sob falls from your lips.

“Hey” he’s reaching over, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay” he’s smiling sadly at you. “He told me he kept all my letters and-" you're hyperventilating now, looking at him.

“Why did he keep them if he didn’t love me enough to stay Roos?”

You ask and his heart breaks for you. “Let’s get you inside” he’s climbing out of the driver side, making his way to the passanger side. Your body falls into him as he helps you out. Scooping you up in his arms, he carries your body up five flights of stairs to the apartment the two of you were sharing.

By the time he makes his way to the front door, he notices your body had relaxed and your sobs quieted down, you had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight dove,” he lays you down and tucks the covers around your body, leaning down kissing your forehead gently.

He will be having a long conversation with Hangman tomorrow.

The California sun was hot. Beating down on the pilots as they dripped with sweat. Standing on the deck beside Penny, you grin. “Are you having fun eye-fucking my father?” you ask, startling her.

She drops the pen she was holding, looking up at you with a smile. Your face was swollen, she chose to ignore it.

“Maybe” she grins, looking back out at the game. Following her gaze, you smile at the pilots, missing the way the altercation on the sand looked nothing more than a simple game of football.

Rooster pushes Hangman as they both go for the ball, not missing the way he’s being a bit aggressive for a game of football.

“What the fuck Bradshaw!” he’s yelling, standing from the sand, looking at the mustached man. “Really?!” he throws his hands up. “How does it feel to be pushed around Hagman!” He points at Jake, standing taller than the blonde aviator.

“Excuse me?” Jake tries sizing him up, looking up at Rooster.

“You came back here and broke her heart all over again, Hangman” he pushes Jake's chest. The man stumbled slightly, and then he laughs, Jake Seresin laughs in his face.

“That has nothing to do with you” Rooster shakes his head, his own sinister laugh. “It does when I’ve picked up the pieces more times than you have! You know what she asked me? She asked me why you didn’t love her enough to stay and truly I think we’re all waiting for that answer!” he yells, and before he knows it, his fist is connecting with Jake’s jaw.

“That’s for my sister you fucker!” he yells as Maverick is between the two of them, pushing their chests away from the other.

“What is going on?!” Maverick yells, looking between the two panting men. “Hangman is a worthless excuse for a man” he pants, seething as Phoenix holds him back.

“What is he talking about?” he asks the blonde. You stand on the steps watching them, quickly making your way down the sand. as soon as you noticed Rooster swing. “What is going on?” you ask, standing behind the group.

“Jake was finally gonna tell us what happened” Rooster pants, his hand gripping phoenix's comfortingly. “How he got you pregnant and left you picking up the pieces all alone” he spits “living up to your call-sign aren't ya?”.

Maverick looks between the pilots, then back at you. The color in your face is gone.

“Is that true?” Maverick asks, looking between you and then back at Jake. His green eyes meet yours, then looking back at your fathers. “Yes” his voice is hoarse. His jaw is sore but he knows it doesn’t compare to the pain you've felt.

“That’s how our engagement ended, but Bradley” you look over at him, his eyes softening. “There was no need for you to air out Jake and I’s dirty laundry” you snarl. You meet your dad’s softening eyes, “you are all dismissed” he says.

He makes his way beside you, wrapping you in his arms. “When did this happen?” he whispers as the group makes their way up to The Hard Deck.

“You were in the desert, about two years ago, I went to Uncle Ice” you whisper, hugging him just as tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he admits. You shake your head against his chest, squeezing him. "It's not your fault dad” he kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hairline. “I will make him do extra training,extra push ups if I don’t kill him first” he smiles as you chuckle.

“I’ll have a beer Penny” Jake’s voice is soft as she sends him a glare. She never was one to discriminate against a customer but she knew your pain. She went through almost the same pain with your father. “I should kick you out of my bar” she seeths, setting the bottle down in front of him, “but I won't because I know that’s not what she would want” he nods with a sigh.

“I really do love her Penny” he looks up at the woman, who shakes her head. “You need to prove it, Hangman” she makes her way over to Bradley with a smile.

“I’m sorry for causing a scene” he apologies to Penny as she shakes her head. “You are just being a big brother, I understand” she smiles giving him the opened beer.

“What the hell man?” Coyote sits beside his best friend, looking over his face. “I know” he admits, setting the bottle down, letting the amber liquid run down his throat. “I’m not proud of it,” he says, looking over at Coyote. “I told her I didn’t want a family, I-I accused her of cheating on me. I told her my career was more impaortant than a family” he scoffs at himself, “sick”. He sips the beer again.

“You need to fix this man,” he says to his best friend. Jake nods, looking out at the beach at you and Maverick, talking and hugging. He knew the rocky relationship the two of you had. “I know”.

Maverick stood at the door, he hated having to do this. He watched as you and Penny danced around the other, Bradley stood beside him. You stood at the bar standing beside Penny,looking between your father and Bradley, they stood dressed in their whites.

“The mission got moved up” Maverick says, his eyes falling to Penny with sympathy. “Go” you whisper to her, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze as the two of them go outside.

“Dove” looking up at the sound of Rooster’s voice. You tried to wrap your head around the timing.

A week ago, Jake was walking back into your life as well as Bradley and your father, now they were leaving again. Four days ago you finally told the love of your life the two years of hell you went through without him.

Now, they are leaving. “I think you should talk to Hangman” your eyes snap up to his brown ones, they held sympathy. “Why?” you ask, looking him up and down. He looked just like his father.

“We may not come back from this,” he says. “You better come back from this Bradshaw” you didn’t mean for it to come out so mean. He laughs with a nod, he knows you didn't mean it. “I will do my best, I got my girls to think about” he smiles at the smile on your face. He meets you halfway around the bar, wrapping you in a tight hug.

“I love you, Dove” he whispers as you squeeze him tighter. “I love you too, Rooster”. After a tearful goodbye with your father between both you and Penny, you reach for your phone.

Jake's phone pulls him from his thoughts, looking down at the message across the screen.

Sweetheart: I need to see you.

His heart sank as another followed,

Sweetheart: meet me at the hard deck in 15?.

You were nervous, chewing on your lip as you looked at Penny. “Bradley is right, you need to talk to him” she smiles as you nod, looking down at your phone.

Read: 9:45pm.

You scoff, shoving the phone back into your pocket. Twenty minutes later you find yourself sitting on the sand. Penny shoved you out the door to take a break. “I thought I’d find you out here” turning around, you meet Jake dressed in his whites, hat in hand. You stand, looking him over, he smiles shyly.

“I need to say a few things” you say, looking over his face as he nods. “Go ahead” he says, moving to stand in front of you. “I-I still love you, I know seeing you has brought these things to the surface that I thought I could avoid” you avoid his eye as you continue.

“The things you said to me two years ago and then the way you act now, I-I want to forgive you” you look up at him, his eyes sharing a similar hopefulness. "I don't want to love another human being as much as I love you." Your voice shakes as you continue, "I don't want to give my heart to a stranger all over again" looking over his face, his eyes were so full of love, love you hadn't seen in years.

“I don’t want you to go on the mission thinking about me and your mistakes and-” he cuts you off then, his lips meeting yours for the first time in three years. It takes you a minute to catch up and when you do, you are pulling him by his jacket closer to you.

“I think about you every time I fly, I have since the day I walked into that bar” he whispers against your lips, nudging your nose with his. “But since the day I went overseas, I’ve held you closer to my heart” he admits. “If you only knew how much I love you” he says as his breath fans over your face.

“If you only knew that I kept everything, every photo, every text message, every letter and your goddamn ring, I kept the key to the apartment” he rambles, hand falling to yours.

“It’s always going to be you (y/n) Mitchell” he looks over your face.

“I can’t sleep without you, my bed is cold, I don't think I've had a good night’s sleep in two years” he chuckles as you sniffle.

“Make it back to me in one piece okay?” you whisper, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. He cups your cheeks, his calloused thumb catches the tears, a teary smile on both of your faces.

“Sweetheart, I would swim oceans and crawl through fire to get back to you, you breathe life into me” he smiles at the small smile on your lips.

“Go in open minded, don’t think about me, don’t think about the past, don’t think about anything but protecting yourself” he nods, smiling down at you. “Maverick and Rooster too” he adds with a wink.

You knew deep down they were all fond of the other, they would never admit it though. “I want you waiting for me” he grins, leaning down to connect your lips again.

“You got it” you agree, kissing him as if he’d slip from your fingers and you’d wake up from this dream.

Jake made his way on the tarmac to the two people he dreaded having to talk to. Phoenix, Bradley and Maverick stood around the plane, stopping their conversation at the sight of the blonde.

He gulps, looking between them all. “Rooster” he nods, looking him up and down as Bradley excuses himself from the two.

“What is it Hangman?” he asks, adjusting the aviators on his nose.

“Thank you” Roosters furrows his brows as he looks the man up and down. He never expected Hangman to be thanking him. “You showed me I was not worthy of a woman like (y/n)." He looks over Bradleys face as he continues.

"I know that now and I now am gonna strive to be the man she deserves, the one she was gonna marry those years ago” he nods, Bradley can’t help but puff out his chest. He was protective of you.

“And thank you for convincing her to talk to me, I don’t think I could fly this mission with the thought of never seeing her again” his voice is soft as he makes the admission to the one person he never expected.

“Lastly” he looks up at Rooster with his signature Hangman smirk, “give em hell”.

It had been two days. You heard radio silence from every party. Checking in with Penny to see if she heard nothing, she was as in the dark as you were. No one knew if the mission was a success.

You threw yourself into work to keep your mind off it. “Penny!” you yell, pushing out of the kitchen doors with a case of beers in your arms.

“I mean I’m not penny but, will I surfice?” you turn at the sound of your fathers voice, gasping. “Dad!” you shove the case onto the table running into his awaiting open arms. “Hi sweetheart” he smiles, giving you a squeeze. “Are you okay?” you gasp, pulling away from his chest to look him over. He chuckles, looking down at you with a smile.

“I’m fine” he grins, rubbing your back. “C’mon I have something to show you” he smiles, leading you out the front door of the Hard Deck. He couldn’t believe the boys put him up to this.

The blue Bronco came speeding down the road.

The speakers loudly played Take My Breath Away as the cheers of the Aviators could be heard miles away. Standing on the back of the Bronco stood Jake Seresin still dressed in his flight suit, singing loudly as he got closer to the hard deck.

“My Love, Take My Breath Away!” he grins, watching the smile on your face.

Bradley smirks as he parks the bronco. You laugh, running down the steps quickly. Jake jumped from the back of the Bronco, catching your body as it collides with his.

“Sweetheart” he laughs, hugging you tight. Just like when he came home from his first deployment, you clung to him like a koala, sobbing into his shoulder.

Jake Seresin was a simple man, he wanted three things in life, love, a wife and a family.

And here he was holding his world in his arms again, building his family piece by piece.

“I’m here” he whispers, fingers tangling in your hair as you sob. “Oh my god you idiot” you laugh between sobs, pulling away to kiss him as if he’d fade away from your arms. The kiss was sloppy but full of love.

“If you only knew how much I love you” he whispers once the two of you part, you sniffle with a smile.

“I may have a little bit of an idea” you laugh, kissing him again.

if you enjoyed this fic, you can find all of my other work in the library, here <-

if you would like to listen to the song this fic is based on, you can find that here <-

3K notes · View notes

theonemeathead · 3 months

Text

Sniper x Reader, "Quick Trip"

a sniper x reader smutfic! tw for afab anatomy, the implications of the word 'sheila'. enjoy!

August. One of the hottest months of the year, not to mention it was the hottest day in New Mexico yet. A ceasefire had been called until further notice, the temperature being down right deadly. There was no shade for miles, within the border of the Badlands.

Which just so happened to be where you lived. Your residence, currently, was Teufort's RED base. You had been on base for a couple of years now, you got along with everyone well enough; Some more than others.

Which leads you to the current situation.

You see, Sniper was about to leave on a joint-contract with Scout; Somewhere not nearly as blazing hot. And he was going to be gone for almost two weeks. Clearly, this didn't bode well with you as you stood, with crossed arms, in front of him. You had been begging him all day to let you tag along, but he refused, insistently.

"Mundy, this isn't fair! The AC in the base is broken, you gotta—!"

"I said no, sheila," he cut you off, his tone stern. Of course, you didn't take well to being talked over, especially by your boyfriend. You furrowed your brow, opening your mouth to speak, when you were interrupted, yet again.

"Sick! Ya coming with us?" Ah, Scout. His Boston accent never failed to amuse you, especially with the mischievous glint in his eyes whenever he spoke. He smiled wide, hopeful that you could maybe make the car ride a little less dull. Sniper usually wasn't one for small talk, you were lucky if you could even get a head nod out of him.

"No." "Yes!"

You and Sniper said in unison, he shot you a nasty side eye from behind his aviators. You never understood how Sniper was able to take the heat so easily. He was still wearing his full uniform, boots and all. You had half a mind not to strip naked with how unbearable the temperature was. However, still somewhat sane, decided against that and listened to your better judgement for once.

"Aw, c'mon, Snipes, let 'em tag along! At least they talk," Scout tried to reason, taking your side. Sniper sighed dramatically, grumbling something you couldn't quite understand. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you.

"You're both insufferable. Get in." Your eyes lit up immediately. You had gotten your way, per usual. You clambered into the vehicle, sitting directly in the middle between the other two mercenaries. The black leather seats had definitely seen their fair share of wear and tear, various holes burned from dropped cigarettes, some exposed, yellow foam from the peeling material... But Sniper loved his van. In between your legs was the comically long stick-shift. The handle was slightly chipped away and the design faded from being used so often. Sniper refused to drive anything but manual, because it's 'the right way' he said. With a loud sigh, Sniper had pulled himself in on the driver's side, buckling his seat belt in one swift motion. He clicked the key forward in the ignition, the camper sputtering to life. It was definitely old and in desperate need of repair. The bushman reached forward for the gearshift, his rough hands accidentally brushing the top of your knee as he put the car into 1st gear. Normally, gestures such as this didn't get to you. But, something felt off about it this time.

The first 10 minutes of the car ride turned out to be a bust. Sniper was too focused on the road and Scout was knocked out, cold. The only sound was the distant crackling of the radio and the soft snores from your teammate. You had one exciting moment when Sniper went to shift to 3rd, his hand grazing your leg yet again. You shot him a quick glance, unsure if it was on purpose on not. Sniper wasn't one to tease. You leaned forward with a sigh, slightly turning the dial on the radio to the right. It was set on a classic rock station currently playing a song by Men At Work. You didn't know much about the band, besides the fact Sniper really liked them.

"I love this song." Sniper's gruff voice had come out slightly whispery. You squirmed a little in your seat. Did he always have this affect on you? His Aussie accent had rang through you ears. It was such a simple string of words, but coupled with the fleeting touches, it was... different. About an hour and a half into the car ride, Sniper made the executive decision to stop at a gas station a couple miles up the road. With Scout still asleep, Sniper pulled up to the pump, slamming the breaks to scare the sleeping Bostonion awake. With an abrupt 'oof', Scout was up and ready to fight immediately.

"What—! What is it?! What happened, are we dead??" He yelped, looking around frantically. Scout paused, huffing when he saw that you were all just in park. "You guys are freakin' assholes, I'm gonna go take a leak."

With the 3 of you filing out of Sniper's front seat, you watched as Scout stretched and walked towards the gas station itself. Behind you, Sniper had already unscrewed the gas cap, removing the nozzle and forcing it into the tank. With a simple 'click', diesel fluid immediately began pouring out. Sniper stared at it for a second before abruptly pulling on the handle of the side door of the van, exposing the inside to you. Confused, you looked up at him.

"I told ya I didn't want you coming on this trip, roo." His tone was dark, almost sadistic. Your brows pinned up, a bit of fear beginning to creep through your system. Sniper never took a tone with you. He turned to you, his eyes hidden behind his yellow-tinted aviators. You swallowed thickly, afraid of what was next. "Come here."

You obeyed, stepping closer to him timidly. Immediately, you were manhandled, almost thrown into the back of his camper van. You stared in surprise, yelping as he slammed the door closed behind the both of you. You didn't have time to react before he was on you, his mouth meeting yours. The kiss wasn't pretty or experienced as his teeth clacked against yours, his lips bruising and hungry. He must've been pent up, watching you flaunt yourself around in that low-cut tanktop and those too-short shorts. Just as fast as he had started, he had pulled away. The marksman looked you up and down, as if you were nothing but prey.

"This is the entire reason I didnt want'cha to come, darl'. Just can't keep my bloody hands off ya."

A flash of red was all you saw before you were flipped onto your stomach, Sniper using his long limbs to entangle your arms behind your back. He had you like a wrangled animal, trapped and helpless. He grunted quietly, cursing under his breath as he kept you pinned with one arm. He used his one free hand and made quick work of your bottoms, sliding them, along with your underwear, down to rest just below your ass. You jolted at the feeling of his caloused hand immediately delving into your folds, as if to relax you. A low whimper left your throat, the feeling of his long, thick fingers tracing themselves inside of you, curling to hit the right spot.

You didn't have much time, however, and Sniper knew this. He retracted his fingers, sucking whatever juices was on them off. The clinking of a belt, along with shuffling fabric excited you further. Although you couldn't look back, you could feel him start to guide his long length towards your aching hole. He slid into you, slowly. Sniper wasn't thick per se, but he was definitely long. The head of his cock practically kissed your insides in all the right places. With how wet you were, you didn't need much time to accommodate his size. Snapping his hips into your ass, you could feel every drag of his cock, every pulse and vein. His pace started off bruising, the hand keeping you pinned down began leaving crescent-shaped indents from his fingernails.

There was something primal about this. The heat had burned extra hot that day, and so did your lover, it seemed. He reached his free hand under you, beginning to rub sloppy circles on your clit. Shortly after, you eyes had screwed shut, a line of drool beginning to leak from your mouth. The campervan had rocked slightly with each thrust, your pants and pleas falling upon deaf ears as Sniper used your body. It wasn't long until you tried to warn him, maybe a little too late.

"Mick, I—!" Before you could continue, you had came, your own moan cutting you off. Sniper had a sick, twisted smile, letting go of your arms to focus fully on grabbing your hips. He had started slamming your overstimulated, quivering cunt back into him. It sent shocks through your body, the pleasure quickly turning to pain as it became too much

"Fuck, I love ya, roo. I'm gonna fill ya right up, make ya mine." His thrusts grew erratic, almost sloppy, as a string of curses and praise left his lips as he hilted himself fully inside of you. You heard a small groan, followed by some deep breaths as Sniper came inside of you. With a groan, he pulled out, his cock growing softer by the second. He yanked his pants up, buckling his belt back with extreme ease and skill. There was no time for aftercare. He helped you slide your clothes back up, your trembling thighs sending delight through him. He picked his slouch hat up from off the ground, dusting it off. He held a crooked smile as he placed it atop your head, the hat much too big for you. He had finished pumping gas, screwing the cap back on before leaning against the front of his Chevy.

"Where's Scout?"

"I paid him $20 to piss off somewhere for like half an hour. He'll be back soon, love."

#tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper x reader #sniper tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 #tf2 fandom

180 notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Summer Love // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Falling in love with the Hard Decks new barkeep wasn’t on Bradley Bradshaws 2023 bingo. What else wasn’t on that bingo card was that the barkeep was a Floyd…..

Warnings. Porn with a plot. Bradley Bradshaw x Reader. (Nickname Pip) Mentions of near sexual assault/harassment. SMUT!

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: Okay so I know I said I was taking a little break to recharge my batteries but this was my attempt at a little break. Here’s a Rooster one-shot.

“Barkeep!” Bradley beamed as he entered the Hard Deck, his eyes immediately on you from the second he stepped through the threshold. “My oh my aren’t you a sight for sore eyes—“ It wasn't hard to tell Bradley Bradshaw was smitten for the new bar hire. Penny had easily picked up on the aviator's demeanour change from the moment he realised you were going to be a permanent fixture around the Hard Deck. “How you doing this fine Friday afternoon?”

“I haven’t had enough sleep to deal with this this afternoon—“ Bob groaned as he followed Rooster's path. Both aviators making strides in your direction. Coming to sit at the bar, both men made you the centre of their universe for two very different reasons. “I’ll have a coke thanks Pip.” Bob smiled softly as he took his glasses off to clean the lens. Nodding you turned your attention to Rooster, raising a brow as you flipped your bar towel over your shoulder.

“Draft please Pip—“ Rooster ordered his usual, fishing out his wallet from his back pocket. Handing over his card as he leaned on the bar. “Before I walk out on my tab again.” It had happened a few too many times, Bradley Bradshaw the life of the party—would sink back a few too many beers and leave slung over the shoulders of his colleagues and friends. He’d always make the walk of shame the next day however—tail between his legs as he’d cautiously tap his card on the bar, gaining your utmost attention with a cheshire cat smile and a guilty look lingering in his eyes.

You took the card with a tight smirk, placing it into your back pocket before opening up a tab in Bradley’s name before fetching Bob a glass of ice—hitting the nozzle of the soda gun on the lip of the glass for a brief second before pouring the syrup and soda water mixture right into the glass.

“You boys gonna give me any trouble tonight?” Raising your eyebrow, as you turned your attention back to Rooster now that Bob had his coke. Roosters only reaction was to lean a little further on the bar. Watching as you poured his glass from the tap. Holding it at a forty five degree angle so it didn't gain a head the size of his own ego.

“No ma’am, no trouble here.” Rooster winked as he mimicked your smirk, accepting the beer you cautiously slid along the bar. “Thanks Pip.” It hadn’t taken you long to settle into Fightertown, you’d asked Bob if you could come and stay with him for a few months until you found your feet again after what seemingly felt like you hit rock fucking bottom. You’d fallen out of love with your profession, journalism. You broke up with your long term boyfriend Ben after he’d got wind of your sudden desire for a sea change and possible career move. You just needed a new start, a new home, a new life.

Bartending had always been something you were good at, although you didn't drink–much like your older, half-brother Robert.

“You uh, are you doing anything this Sunday?” Rooster asked softly as he looked up at you, taking a small sip of his beer as Bob choked on his coke. You just shook your head no. Not one to talk all that much. Eyeing off the foam that had settled into Rooster's moustache from the foam cap of his beer.

“If you’re gonna flirt with my sister, please don’t do it in front of me.” Bob snarled as he shook his head in disbelief. These fucking guys honestly. Rooster playfully held his hands up in surrender. Scoffing at the accusations made by the seemingly well reserved weapons systems officer.

“I don't think I like what you’re insinuating Bob.” Rooster fired back with a wild shit eating grin as you chuckled softly to yourself, wiping down the bar with your rag as you watched the two interact. The bar was barely open. The only two patrons to have arrived, having got off early on this fine Friday afternoon. “I'm not flirting, am I Pip?” Rooster asked as you raised your eyebrows. Scoffing slightly as you bit your bottom lip momentarily.

“Well if you're trying you don’t seem to be doing all that well.” Rooster held a hand over his heart as he stared at you with hazel eyes. Deep browns and shades of greens swirling as he faked a hurt that cut deep into his heartstrings—forcing a laugh so pure from your soul it left Rooster wanting more of you always.

“You two make me sick—“ Bob rolled his eyes as he hopped off the barstool, heading over to the pool table. Rounding up bar tables and stools that he knew his fellow aviators would soon fill. Leaving you and Rooster to devote all your attention to one another. Bob would joke and tease and taunt you about your blooming romance with Rooster, but if there was anyone Robert Floyd would trust with his sister? It was Bradley Bradshaw. He had noticed early on in your impromptu over-extended stay that Rooster had developed an affinity for you. The usually reserved fighter pilot had no chill when it came to his advances with you.

“So Sunday?” Rooster was quick on the draw as he saw more and more people flood into the Hard Deck, knowing his time with you was fleeting at best. That your attention would be scattered for the better half of the evening working the bar and bussing tables.

“What did you have in mind, Flyboy?” You beamed his way with a glint in your eyes. Those fuck me eyes Rooster could hardly resist. You weren't not interested, if anything you were incredibly interested in Bradley–but you were a little hesitant to fall in love when you weren't even sure if North Island was the place for you and to make mattress all the more difficult while you were trying to find yourself, falling in love with a naval aviator didn't really make the situation any easier to navigate. He could be shipped off or deployed anywhere at any minute. Another detachment could rear its ugly head and god knows for how long he’d be gone?

But with all that in the back of your mind it was still hard to resist the charming ways of Bradley Bradshaw when he was hopping off his barstool, making strides around the bar to stand beside you.

“Penny doesn’t like it when you come behind the bar Bradshaw–” You tried to hide your ever present smile as you continued cleaning the bar. “You’re gonna make me ring that bloody bell, aren't you?”

“You, me, dinner at that restaurant in town that does that really nice sweet potato gnocchi.” Ignoring your reluctance to have him behind the bar with you, Rooster pressed on. Trapping you between him and the bar– strong arms on either side of you as he gently kissed your neck.

There wasn’t exactly a word to describe what you had with Rooster. The two of you had been talking, flirting, sneaking around and getting to know one another. But you were still very much an enigma to him. Rooster only knew a handful of things about you. One, that you were Bob's younger, half sister. Two, that you smelt of vanilla and bourbon. Three, that you weren't hard to get, but hard to earn–which made you all the more worth it. Four, that Pip wasn’t your real name–it was a nickname of sorts. A callsign if you will. But you just preferred Pip.

“You really wanna take me to dinner?” The way you said it made Roosters' hearts ache. Of course he did? Why would he not want to take you to dinner? It's not like he hadnt asked you a million times before. “Like you actually wanna take me to dinner?” Turning around in between his arms to face him, Bradley stepped back a little to give you some space as you leaned back against the bar crossing your arms.

“If you’ll finally give me a chance to?” Bradley smirked as he watched your eyes trail from his eyes down to his lips, lingering a little further down to the collar of his T-shirt. Sticking a few fingers inside the collar to scratch at his collarbone. “Eyes up here Pip.” Reaching over to grab the schooner you'd poured him, Bradley took a sip of his beer as you rolled your eyes. Pushing off the bar before turning on your heels to attend to the other thirsty patrons who started taking up the other barstools.

“Get out from behind my bar–”

“I'll pick you up at six o’clock?” It had become an unintentional stand-off, you eyeing off Rooster as he did so you. Patrons were starting to floor the Hard Deck every passing second and you knew if you let this charade go any longer you were going to have to deal with a very unimpressed crowd waiting on their amber beverages. “Or whatever time you like?” Shrugging with a wild smirk, Rooster waited for your response. He knew he was wheezing his way into the cracks that had started to form in your tougher than most exterior. He’d find a way in, if he just gave you time.

“What can I get you Dave?” You asked the man who'd come up and sat at the bar. A regular older gentleman who worked in the technicians block at Miramar.

“Just a Budwiser thanks Pip–on tap if you've fixed up the keg.” Nodding, you tried to hide your smirk as Rooster came to stand beside you, pouring his own beer from the tap after having finished the first one you’d poured him. “I never said yes to your little date idea, and don’t touch my taps Bradshaw Pennys gonna kill you.”

“Well unlike every other time–” Bumping your hip with his Rooster kept his gaze down, trained on the beer he was pouring himself. “You didn't immediately shut me down so I think we’re starting to make a little progress here.” You could feel the heat in your cheeks rising, smitten. Completely sitten. “And I never called it a date.” Rooster smirked as he felt the heat in his own cheeks rising from the back and forth flirting. He loved it, he’d always enjoyed a good game of chase. “You are far too much like your brother Pip, always making assumptions.” Bradley was quick as he placed a kiss on your cheek before you even registered what he was doing. That's all you really had, small fleeting moments that meant the whole damn world to you.

“Get out from behind my bar before I ring that bloody bell on you, Bradshaw.” Bumping Roosters hip with your own once again you grinned ear to ear. Turning to face him with barely any space between you. “I'm not kidding–” You interrupted your moment with Rooster to hand Dave over his beer. “Eight fifty thanks Dave.” It had become a common occurrence for most of the regulars to see Bradley Bradshaw behind the bar making a nuisance of himself. Dave in particular saw a lot of Nick Bradshaw in the way Bradley danced around you like a fly on a hot summer's day. The apple hadnt fallen far from the tree at all. Handling over the ten dollar bill, Dave just took in the sight that was playing out before him like a poorly put together romance novel, Rooster Bradsahw had it bad and everyone could tell.

“Neither am I–” With a hand on your hip pulling you into his, Bradleys eyes trailed down to your lips. He wasn't going to, not like this. Not when there were people waiting to be served. Not when Dave the engineer's assistant was sitting right in front of you. But it was fun to think about. His lips on yours, he’d only been blessed with that feeling, that sensation a handful of times. “Go to dinner with me–”

“If I say yes will you let me do my job for the rest of the night?” You spoke through gritted teeth, pretending to be annoyed as you handed the older gentleman his change from the till as Rooster trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you went to take the next order. Fixing the bow of your barmaids apron as you walked away from him across to the other side of the bar.

“Great so It's a date.” He’d tricked you, sending you a shit eating grin before ducking back under the bar. “Sunday night at six o’clock.” Rooster beamed, that cherishe like smile had crept back across his face as he stood for a moment just admiring you. “You know where to find me!” Raising his beer as you stood in disbelief at how well Rooster had played you. He wasn't wrong though, you always knew where to find him, and he’d always be there for you when you needed him. A few weeks ago, you were convinced Rooster had saved your life. You never spoke about it, never brought it up and neither did he. Probably for two very separate reasons, but regardless it happened and you were still processing the whole ordeal.

“Bradley–” The way you said his name as your legs fell either side of his hips had Roosters head spinning. Sitting on top of the bar after closing, Rooster had his hands on either side of your face. Pulling you into him as your tongue danced with his. “Take me home?” If he wasn't hard before he was most definitely hard now. Nodding as he let his forehead rest against yours. Licking his lips as the taste of your chapstick lingered on his.

“I'll take these bins out for you and we’ll go?” Penny had left you to shut up shop for the night. It had been rather quiet. Rooster hung back originally just to talk to you. Spend as much time with you as he possibly could. Stepping away as he helped you off the bar, Rooster grabbed the garbage bags and kissed your forehead. His hand on the back of your head keeping you pressed against his lips until he was satisfied and let go. “Don't go anywhere.”

You watched as Bradley disappeared out the back, deciding to wipe down the bar just one more time before you started turning off the lights. Going about your regular routine whenever you closed up the bar.

“You've got time for one more beer, don't you sweetheart?” There were three of them. Since when were you stupid enough to not lock the front doors? Oh yeah– that's right, the one time you decided to let your inhibitions get the better of you and got a little too hot with Bradley Bradshaw. “Or did we miss the fun?” You weren't too sure what he was insinuating, had he seen you with Bradley? Kissing on the bar.

“It's a few hours past last call, sorry gentlemen, can't help you tonight.” You tried ushering them out back towards the direction of the front doors. But they didn't budge. If anything they were delighted that you'd come closer. Lessening the distance between them and you. “I'm serious fellas, the bars closed.”

“I'm sure Penny wouldn't like knowing her Bartenders are screwing around with top paying patrons now would she?” One of them hissed as he stepped a little closer.

“Is that a threat?” You could recognise a threat from a mile away. You didn’t play dumb, you just fucked dumb, except for Braldey–he was far from dumb. Watching as the three men stepped a little closer to where you stood in absolute shock. You could hold your own, but you weren't that stupid enough to know three against one wasn't a fair fight. Your body just froze.

“You tell me, pretty girl–” They'd surrounded you, curling you like hawkes just waiting for their prey to die. “Now are you gonna get that beer or are we gonna see just how pretty you look bent over that bar instead of propped up on it?” Caressing the side of your cheek slowly, the man hummed as he coaxed a response from you.

“I only got draft on tap or cider–” Whenever you were scared or protecting yourself or those you loved, your southern drawl seemed to be more prominent, Much like Bob’s. “What’ll you have?”

“That's more like it, isn't it boys.” They all laughed as you shakingly took a step back into one of them, their hands coming to grip your forearms tightly. “But I still think we’d rather see you up on that bar.” Your eyes never left the mans as you clenched your jaw. His hand running up the inner part of your thing before landing near the zip of your jeans. “I know your type, you’ll fuck anything that’ll have you–wont you?”

“Everything alright out here Pip?” God you'd never been more relieved to hear Bradleys voice. Exhaling a sigh of relief as you craned your head to see where he was standing. By the back door with Penny’s double barrel rifle up and pointing in the direction of the guys who'd surrounded you. “If she doesn't give me an answer in two seconds I’m taking it as a no–”

“We’re just having a little fun aren't we boys?” Rooster wasn't having a bar of it, cocking the rifle as a warning.

“It's been more than two seconds and I still don't have an answer–” There was nothing but red in Roosters ledger right now. Stepping out of the shadows as he came closer and closer to you with meaningful strides. Never lowing his weapon. “Leave, before I decide your worth doing time over.” The silence was deafening as Rooster stepped in front of you as all three men backed out of the bar, not one turning their backs on Rooster. “Cops will met em on their way up the road, would’ve been back sooner but I heard what was going on and took pictures of their plates.” Rooster explained as he waited for the three men to pile into the truck out the front that hadn’t been there when you were closing up earlier. Once Rooster was one hundred percent satisfied they were gone? That’s when he turned to you. Placing the gun onto the bar as you crumbled into a heap in his arms. Shaking and crying uncontrollably.

“Brad—“

“Shhh, I got you, I’ve got you Y/n.” No callsigns. No nicknames. It was you and Bradley. Holding you in his protectively arms as you cried your heart out on the floor of the Hard Deck. Rooster never ended up taking you back to his—he took you home. Where Bob thanked Rooster with his life for keeping his sister safe.

Rooster knew this was going to set the timeline of his progress with you back ten fold–but he didn't mind all that much. Rooster was just glad you were safe, that you were okay and that in time he could love you like you deserved to be loved.

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

It was easy to get through a busy shift when everytime you looked up, you met Bradleys gaze. He was always watching from afar. Somewhat protective but respectful of your personal space and boundaries all at the same time.

“So what's got you all smiles tonight Pip?” Hangman asked as you came around with an empty bar tray to collect the empty glasses. Penny knew you used it as an excuse to get out from behind the bar and talk to the patrons. One specific aviator in particular. “You’d think by now your cheek would be cramping?” Jake Seresin was a good person, you could tell that much just by the way he looked after his mates.

“If you must know.” You cooed as you took his empty glass and placed it amongst the others you'd already collected. “I have a date this Sunday.” Bradley could hear your conversation as clear as day, but he wasn't going to interrupt. He’d wait till you came a little closer to grab your wholehearted attention. Continuing his own conversation with Payback about the new admiral.

“A date huh? With Bradshaw?” Jake teased as he smirked at you, looking you up and down. “Let me guess, a pity date.”

“More like a get me off my back kinda date but still–” As you shrugged your shoulders at Jake, you turned on your heels, reaching over Bradly to grab his empty glass from the tabletop he sat by. “Excuse me Lieutenant Bradshaw, I just need to get the empties.” You knew Rooster hated it when you called him Lieutenant Bradshaw. That was reserved for work and work only, not pleasure, not play. He poked his tongue into the inner part of his cheek as he shook his head and met your gaze.

“Not funny.”

“Sorry Lieutenant–” You cooed, brushing up against his crotch as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, standing between Bradleys legs as his hand lingered on your hip, needing at the flesh as your words affected him more than he would have liked to admit. “It won't happen again.”

“Oi!” Bob hissed when he turned around to see the interaction unfolding. “This is a PG rated establishment–” At this rate, You and Rooster were going to get nowhere if Bob kept up his protective older brother shtick. “Separate please, none of that.” You didn't budge, you simply ignored your brother's request as Rooster dug his fingertips into your flesh a little more. Not wanting you to move from your place as you held the tray of empty glasses.

“I'm going on my break in fifteen minutes.” You explained. “Why don't you meet me out the back near the festoon lights?” It was as suggestive as you could make it, hoping Bradley would catch on to what you were insinuating. It wouldn't be the first time and it surely wouldn't be the last time you two would sneak away for a quick rondavoo in the back of the Bronco–but it had been a minute since the last time. If he thought about it for a little while, Rooster was sure you both haven't gotten together since that dreaded night with the three guys.

“Oh fuck–” Rooster felt like a teenager again when his cheeks begun to blush a rose hume at your words, his jeans feeling all the more tighter as he thought about the possibility of seeing you ride him again. “Okay, yeah, ill uh–i'll be there.” He nodded in quick heist as the flush of his skin started to creep up his neck. God it did things to you knowing how easily you melted the stoic Naval Aviator into a puddle. “But quit calling me Lieutenant Bradshaw, it aint funny sweetheart.”

“Really?” You pressed as you pushed away from Rooster, he looked ready to jump your bones then and there. “What would you rather me call you?” Again, you were being far too suggestive for such a public place. He’d missed this. Smirking down at you as you stepped back biting your bottom lip. “See you in fifteen, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

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

Much to your delight, Rooster kept his promise almost to the minute. Meeting you out the back at one of the table and chair sets that were illuminated by strung up festoon lights. Sitting on top of the table, you waved his way as he made strides your way, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The Hawaiian shirt he wore looked oh so stupid but in the best possible way. Only Braldey Bradshaw could pull off a Hawaiina shirt all year round.

“I'm a little disappointed you aren't already naked.” You joked as Rooster finally made his way over to you, jumping up beside you with a huff.

“Didn't wanna get done for public indecency by brother of the year.” Rooster was far too quick to tease back as you giggled softly and shook your head in defeat. It was nice to know Bob had your back, it truly was–but he was relentless. “So what's this about huh? Won't go on a date with me to save your life but you’ll happily have your way with me in the back of my Bronco?”

“I don't ever remember mentioning having my way with you in the back of your Bronco–” Much like Rooster had done to you with his plane to get you to go out on a real date with him, you had set him up. “You’re far too much like my brother, always making assumptions.”

“Oh–” Bradley puffed his chest a little as he got down from the table, pulling your legs closer to the edge as he stood between them. “So you’re telling me you don’t wanna just sneak away for a moment or two and–” You didn't let Rooster finish his sentence before you were laughing and biting your bottom lip.

“You'd only need a moment or two wouldn't you.” Bradley had never had this problem before, he wasn't ashamed of his stamina. Usually he could last for at least an hour if the sex was good, he could pace himself and edge his orgasm to the point where he could ride the high out for as long as he wanted–but with you? It had been a whole nother story. A few minutes was all it took for him to be spent. “Kinda don't need any more than five minutes.” You taunted, lifting your arm up to look at your wrist as if there was a watch wrapped around it. There wasn't. “So that leaves me with a solid ten minutes to kinda just dick around on my break.”

The first time you'd snuck away it was to the bathroom in the back of the Hard Deck. You thought for sure someone would catch you if you were gone for too long. Scared Bob would notice both you and Rooster were nowhere to be found. Bradley though, well he didn't make that a problem at all. He was done in about five minutes.

“I'll have you know that my condition is solely a problem caused by you, Pip–because although I spend most of my day thinking about you.” Leaning in, Bradley kissed you softly, pulling back seconds after as he continued showering you with endearment. “And how beautiful you are.” Again, he leaned in to kiss you, this time for a little longer, a little more passion filled. “And what I would do for just a slither of your attention.” It was this time that Bradley cupped your cheeks as he deepened the kiss he gave you, pulling you against his lips as his tongue danced with yours. Soft moans escaping as you worked to unbuckle his belt, looping it from his waist. “You still catch me off guard every time we’re together and I don’t think ill ever get over just how fucking good it feels to be with you.”

“Bronco–now.” You mumbled as you wiped your lips on your forearm. Rooster just smirked as he picked you up, a giggling mess as he rancid around the corner in the dark to where he’d parked his Bronco. “Bradley!” You squealed as he ran, carrying you in strong arms around the corner as you wrapped your legs around his waist and held onto the back of his neck.

“Shhh–” Before you could protest any further, Your back was hitting the paintjob of Bradleys Bronco. His lips were on yours in a fever dream kiss as he worked to fish his keys from his pocket. “Just go with it.” So you did. You kissed Rooster back with as much need and as much lust as he was kissing you with. Devouring one another as Bradley held you up with all his might against the side of his Bronco.

It wasn't long before you were climbing into the back seat, a giddy mess of adrenaline and need as you felt Roosters eyes on your ass as he followed you in. shutting the door behind himself before, like teenage dirtbags, you both rid yourself of any articles of clothing that just didn't seem practical for the aforementioned activities.

“Okay, okay so–” To no surprise of your own, Bradley was already a flushed mess. “How do you wanna do this?” He asked softly with big eyes and a soft smirk. It had been a minute and he just wanted you to lead the way–he’d follow. Do whatever you wanted to do. “Do you wanna maybe–” Again, you didn't let Bradley finish before you were taking his lips hostage with yours. Pulling him down on top of you as you laid back on the seat. Your rip tight around his neck. “Fuck–”

“Missed you, Missed this–” It wasn't that Braldey had inherently gone anywhere, but this was just something that had been off the cards for the last few months since the incident. Rooster respected you far too much to ever push your boundaries or climb the walls you put up. So he waited for you to make the first move.

“Missed you so much–” Travelling the expanse from your jaw down the valley of your chest and down your torso, Bradley left goosebumps wherever his lips melted against your skin. “So fucking pretty Pip–” Sinking down between your legs to meet your core, dripping and needy for his touch. “Since you think it's hilarious that I can't last more than a few minutes, let's see how long it takes you, yeah?” He’d made it a challenge, to see how long you’d last and you thought for sure it would take you a while. But as soon as Braldey pressed his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves and spread your legs as far as he could get them? You knew it wouldn't take long at all.

“Holy shit–” Your back arched off the seats as Bradley ate you out. His tongue lapping away as his fingertips danced at your entrance. “Ohh fuck!” There was a brief moment where you forgot how to breathe, that's how good it felt. The way Rooster was eating your pussy felt like he’d been starved for months, lapping and sucking and coaxing his fingers against your velvet walls. Two digits slipped in easily as your nectar pooled like it did at the base of a waterfall. All for him, all because of him. “Ohhh fuck Roos, yes!”

“Such a pretty cunt.” There had been many nights where Bradley Bradshaw jerked himself off to the thought of you, so much so the bottle of unscented moisturiser had become a permanent fixture on his bedside table. His fist would never compare to the satisfaction you gave him though. The feeling of being with you in any aspect, from the nights where you’d close up early and share a pizza down by the beach to the mornings where you’d meet up at Bradleys place and go for a run, was unparalleled. “So wet so easily Pip–”

“Say my real name.” You moaned as you fell deeper and deeper into the vortex Bradley was shoving you towards. “Bradley, say my name.” God it felt so good, the pressure in your lower abdomen was coming to a boiling point, the tips of your toes tingled with pins and needles, crinkling your nose as your breathing laps and got deeper every passing second. “Oh god oh god oh god oh god–”

“I got you Y/n, I got you–” Bradley knew you were verging on the edge of your orgasm, he wasn't going to say anything now–but he couldn't help but to smirk against your pussy as he worked you over, pumping his two digits in and out. Your juices slicked him up so good it had started to drip down his wrist. “I got you baby cum for me.” It was otherworldly every time you were with Rooster. He knew just what to do and when to send you over the edge. It was a tell tale sign though whenever you gripped his dirty blonde locks with your first, pulling harshly as you shifted your hips against his face. “Cum on my face Y/n please baby, then ill fuck you so good you’ll be hobbling behind that bar of yours.”

“Ahhhhh!!” You felt it bubbling, there was no turning back now. “Bradley i'm cumming i’m cumming i’m cumming i’m cumming ahhhh–!” Bradley didn't stop, he never stopped pumping his fingers inside you, he never stopped sucking at your swollen clit. “Ohhh fuck!” It was pure ecstasy, a euphoria only Bradley could provide you with. Your body stiffened as your orgasm washed over you like a damn titlewave. “Ohhhhhhhh–ffuuggghhhh—!”

“Fucking christ Y/n yes baby look at you.” Rooster cooed as you soaked his face, squirting a little as he hit the squishy wall of your cunt over and over again, coaxing the liquid from you like a pro. It felt too good to not ride out the high to its full capacity. Revelling in every second of your high. “Did so good for me.” Bradley was quick to wipe his mouth on the back of his forearm as he came up to meet you. Kissing your lips softly, he moaned at the thought of you tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I still have eight minutes left on my break.” You sighed as you looked up at Rooster. “You got enough in the tank to waste two minutes?”

“What the hell question is that?” It made you laugh at just how ready Bradley was. “Absolutely I do, hop on beautiful.” Within the blink of any eye, Bradley had switched up the positions you were in. A few seconds ago you had been lying on your back with him hovering on top of you. Now? You were straddling his lap as he sat back against the middle seat of his Bronco. “You know you’re the most beautiful woman i've ever met right?” Bradleys complement didn't go unnoticed, it had you breaking out into a bashful smile so bright he swore you could have seen it from space. “And you aren't just another girl.” He cooed, cupping your face as he pulled you down for a kiss. “And this isn't just some summer love for me.” He explained as you shifted in his lap, guiding the head of his cock past your slick folds and into you slowly, sinking down–taking him inch by inch. “I think I'm truly falling in love with you–”

“I think I'm truly falling in love with you too, Roo.” It would be a conversation tabled for a later day, because the moment you started moving up and down the length of Roosters cock? It was fake over for him. Moaning against your lips as you kissed him. Bouncing up and down to a rhythm of your choice, slowly, coaxing him to write where you wanted him.

“Ohhhh fuck—yes, Y/n fuck you feel so good baby.” Roosters hands gripped at your hips, helping to guide you up and down his slicked up length as you worked your way down his jaw. Kissing over his scars—sending shivers down his spine as you did so. You’d been the only woman to ever do that, he had a girlfriend once who brought him concealer. But you? You kissed at the scar tissue like it was some imperfect perfection. “Holy shit—feels so fucking good!”

“You're gonna come already Bradshaw?” You just wanted to tease him a little. “Ahh! But it feels so good, never wanna stop riding your cock.” Rooster let his head fall back against the glass of his Bronco. Squinting his eyes tight as he tried to hold out for as long as he possibly could. With you though? It was damn near impossible to. You just felt too good.

“I’m good—“ Bradley lied, you knew he did. “Keep fucking me like this though and I’m not gonna last.” You knew he was barreling towards his high. There was a tight sensation pooling at the base of his shift as his balls tightened and breathing hitched. He’d gone a bright shade of crimson, his skin blotchy and hot to the touch. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—holy shit just keep fucking me Pip keep fucking me baby feels so fucking good.” Babbling, Bradley had given himself over to the feeling you brought him. Your touch, your warmth, your ability to have him coming undone at the scene was like a personalised siren song you sung out just for him. “Where can I cum!?”

“You can cum inside me Bradley, come on baby—cum for me.” Bradley had a fair few inches to carry around. It always felt good with him buried inside you, but with only a few minutes left in your break—the two of you would have to find a lengthier time to be intimate. “You wanna cum for me? Fill me to the brim with your cum Lieutenant Bradshaw—“ There it was, that was it—your point proven, the second that rank left your mouth Rooster was pulling you flush against his chest with your arms strung behind your back. Fucking up and fast and deep and mercilessly into your dripping fucked out cunt. “Aaahhhhh! Fuck! Yes yesss!” You cried out, it felt way too good. “Bradley!”

“I told you not to call me that didn’t I?” He was done for, he was a goner—completely head over heels in love with you as he came hard and fast and without shame. “Ooohhhh fuck! Ooohhh yes, ooohhhhh god—“ flooding your cunt with the biggest load he’d ever given. “Ohh my god, that was—“

“The very definition of a quickie.” You finished Rooster's sentence as hot air steamed the windows of his Broco like that one scene in Titanic. “But I’m not complaining.”

“You wanna come back to mine after you finish work?” He asked as you sat up, his cock still inside you as he softened, deciding you had a minute or two still left to spare.

“Maybe—“ You smiled softly. “Depends on how busy the rest of the night is.” You knew Bradley hadn’t meant it in a way where he was implying another round. But you knew he would clear that up.

“I didn’t mean it like, another round—-“ Ah, yep there it was. “I just meant maybe we could just spend whatever ends up being the rest of your night together, a pre date for our real date if you will.” He beamed, leaning in to kiss you one final time before you dismounted to sit beside him. Both naked. Both spent. “And before you say you have to work tomorrow? I already asked Penny, you don’t have work tomorrow.”

“And what if I had plans of my own?” You cooed, looking over your shoulder at Rooster as you pulled your shirt back over your head.

“Cancel them.” He was as serious as a heart attack. “Spend the weekend with me gorgeous?” Rooster just wanted to be by your side always. “I know you’re reluctant, but—like I said, this isn’t summer love for me, so I’m gonna keep chasing you until you either give up or tell me to stop wasting my time.”

“Well I hope that your cardiovascular health is a lot better than your sexual stamina Bradshaw.” You teased as you buckled your jeans up. “Because I’m quite enjoying being chased.”

“Keep running than Pip.” Bradley smiled as he watched you open the door of his Bronco, sliding out as if mother happened. “Because I’ll catch you.”

“Only in your wet dreams Lieutenant Bradshaw.” You taunted as you leaned in just one more time to place a kiss against Roosters lips. Savouring the feeling before pulling away. “But yes, I’ll come back to yours after work.”

“So it’s a pre date for our date?” You couldn’t help but to laugh. Shaking your head softly as you nodded in agreement.

“Yes, a pre-date for our date.”

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

#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster fic #top gun rooster #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine

767 notes · View notes

magpiepills · 14 days

Text

I’m Not Really A Waitress

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Javier Pena x f! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Javi takes you for a pedicure then reaps the rewards.

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected PIV, fingering, foot job, toe sucking, cum eating, dirty talk, pet names, potential sugar daddy Javi, no age gap specified, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader beyond their genitals.

A word from the author: I have finally finished the anon request! ANON! Please let me know if this is what you wanted! No need to be shy! I love you. Javi loves you…anyway, this is my first foray into foot fetish fic and it was fun! I can definitely see Javi being into your piggies. I hope I did this justice. I did watch some foot fetish gifs to prepare!

“I can’t take it, Javi. Please, it’s too much.”

“You can take it. You’re going to. You’re going to take it and then you’re going to show me how much you like it. Gonna thank me properly, hm Carino?”

Javi pressed the money into your hand. He had done it for weeks and it hadn’t gotten any easier to take his money. Every Saturday morning he drove you to the little strip mall and sat in his Jeep, window down, cigarette smoke billowing out like a smoke stack, fidgeting anxiously, eyes scanning the parking lot behind the yellow mirror of his aviators while you went inside for a fresh manicure and pedicure.

Spoiling you was one of his only joys. Long days toiling in the office or in the field, sweating under his tactical vest, chain smoking as he watched Escobar slip away once again. If he could make you happy, even if he was damned for all he had done wrong maybe it wouldn’t all be for nothing.

He tried to stay alert, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you through the plate glass, settled placidly in the chair, long legs bare and feet soaking in turn as a woman an a smock knelt before you, painting your toenails, massaging your feet, buffing and lotioning them, kneading your calves as you closed your eyes, shoulders soft and head dropped against the back of the seat, serene.

After some number of cigarettes had been smoked, you floated back out to him, stepping carefully in little pink flip flops, toes held apart by a strip of foam with little prongs between each toe, sandals dangling from your hand as you climbed into the passenger seat, smelling sweet and, like every week, slid your feet into his lap for his inspection.

Gently he pulled the little divider from your toes and slipped off the flimsy slippers. “What color is this?” You always got red. You knew that was his favorite. He couldn’t tell the shades apart, but you always told him the silly names of each color, insisting that they were all very different. He was charmed. “It’s called I’m Not Really A Waitress. What do you think?” Javi squeezed your foot, pressing his thumb into the ball of your foot, watching as your toes flexed. “Looks really pretty, baby.” He chuckled, pulling your hand close to his face to admire your fingers. Soft and delicate, you rested your fingers over his, and he pressed a kiss into your knuckles. “We gotta get home.” He made the short drive to his apartment with your foot held against his thick, eager cock.

•••••

Javi wasted no time, guiding you in the door and through the dark living room to his bedroom. You knew the routine. He liked undressing you himself, undoing buttons, untying bows, pulling down zippers. He saved his favorite for last, guiding you to lie on your back on his bed so he could unbuckle your sandals. He liked to take his time, working open the little clasps with his big fingers, taking the time to look closely at your freshly lacquered toenails, shiny and red. He was gentle, reverent as he held your ankle, kissing your toes, sucking the smaller ones obscenely, making you squirm. He released them with a pop before he kissed down your delicate sloping arch, up to the curve of your ankle before resting it on his shoulder. Taking a long moment to gaze from the soft little pads of your toes, down your legs, so long and smooth, so shapely. He let his eyes move further, down to your pretty pussy.

He mumbled something in Spanish and palmed his cock through his tight jeans. You loved seeing the thick roll of him, knowing it was just for you. As much as he loved to pamper and spoil you, indulging in your maintenance and care, you loved to show him how much you loved and appreciated him. You skimmed your other toes up his leg and over his thick cock.

Javi groaned, flicking his gaze from your shining folds to where your arch rested lightly over his cock. He rutted gently, guiding you to stroke up and down his concealed length for a few blissful moments before pulling his shirt over his head and hurriedly tugging open his jeans, pushing them down while you watched, mesmerized by his golden skin, the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips drew your gaze like an arrow down to where he held his turgid member. Mindlessly, your had drifted to your center, your fingertips softly circling your clit. You watched each other, unashamedly touching yourselves.

With his free hand, Javi circled your ankle, using his leverage to press your knee back and open you up to his hungry eyes, dark and laser focused on where you spread your slick over your clit. He loved how your fingernails matched your toes.

“That’s it. Get it nice and wet for me. Put your fingers in.” You could hear the strain in his voice as you followed his directions, sinking two fingers inside. “More, querida.” he insisted, but didn’t give you a chance to obey. Instead he took his hand from his cock and pushed two of his own fingers inside along yours, making you gasp and jolt with pleasure. The fullness and the vulgarity of his fingers slipping against yours covered in your ample slick and your palm rubbing just so against your clit brought you quickly to orgasm.

With barely enough time to catch your breath, Javi was on top on you, kissing you, licking into your mouth greedily, letting you feel his weight and his need grinding against your thigh. His hands never stayed in one place long, trailing up and down your sides, groping the curves of your body. He tried not to rush, he really did, but you were still breathless as he kneeled between your legs, eagerly notching at your still sensitive entrance but only allowing the thick head to rest just inside. You wiggled your hips for purchase, “Javi. Javi please. Don’t tease me; I need you.” Your hand returned to your soaked seam, you rubbed the flat of your fingers over your swollen folds and spread the warm wetness up over the length of Javi’s cock that he refuses to give you.

He watches, rapt, at hope you use his body to try to get yourself off. He would gladly be your plaything another time, but now he has to move. “That’s it baby. Keep rubbing that little pussy for me. Got you so nice and wet, huh baby?” He continues talking as he inches in slowly, watching how your pretty cunt takes him. You’re still rocking your hips in small movements as he bottoms out, chasing your second release and he finally fills you. “Fuck me.” His eyes are glued to where he is sheathed inside you, so snug and warm. You increase the speed of your fingers against your clit as he increases the tempo of his thrusts, squeezing him as you reach your peak. He rolls his hips firm against you as you moan and writhe, he has to close his eyes and will himself to not come right this instant. Not before he gets to finish the way he wants.

With you sated and boneless, Javi feels like he can finally indulge. You know what he wants. You let him move you, stretching your legs above you, crossing your ankles and squeezing your thighs as he rests your heel on his shoulder. You can feel his cock smearing your slick across the back of your thighs as he kisses your toes, nibbles the soft little delicate digits. This is the part he loves, he’s held off long enough. Once again he takes your ankles in his hands and pushes your knees to your chest. He brings your pretty feet to stroke his cock between them. “Rub your tits.” He directed you with a nod his head. You do as he says and surrender the rest of your body to his will. He thrust slowly, stroking over your feet, holding them firm against his length. He loved how it looked to have you laid out for him, naked, satisfied, slick and swollen, letting him take control. He rubbed his thumb over your toes and directed them to drag over his cock and gently over his balls. It didn’t take long for Javi to bare his teeth and cover your toes in thick, milky spend. He panted, smiling and looking over you, and pressed a kiss to your big toe, licking the cooling cum from his lips.

“Gracias, carino.”

60 notes · View notes

thebirdandthebee · 1 year

Text

Mighty Fine (18+)

Just a little slump-buster ft. our favorite aviator. Taking requests for TGM and The Bear in my inbox. Smut ahead. Painfully pining Rooster. 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.

Title: Mighty Fine Caroline, see, Caroline - all the guys would say she's mighty fine WC: 3716

The Hard Deck was not in a poor financial state – in fact, since Penny took it over five years ago, she’d done better business than the establishment had ever logged.

Sure, some positive changes, listening to customer feedback and stocking just the right kind of beer helped. But Penny knew that for the past year, there was specifically one woman who helped bump sales big time.

And tonight, a Friday night ahead of the fourth of July, Penny knew they’d hit record numbers.

The leggy brunette flitted about the full bar – packed asses to elbows – with a smile that held a secret and lashes longer than a summer afternoon.

Caroline was all perfume and warm skin. A promise of what could be behind a beauty mark and cherry gloss.

Tonight she’d tucked her white tank into a pair of cutoff shorts and knotted an American flat bandanna around her neck, the tip of the triangle teasing her cleavage. The low-slung cowgirl boots did nothing to interrupt the long lines of her legs and she trusted them with each pivot she needed to make through the crowd.

When her attention landed on you, it felt like you were the only person in the room. She knew how to work a crowd. A small gallery assembled to watch her re-stock the tray of cherries – one of her favorite snacks throughout the night.

“Caro, sweetheart,” Penny called, topping of a lager pour.

“Penny, my love,” Caroline countered, popping the tabs on three ciders.

“Can you let me these men live for one night?” Her boss teased, nipping at the fabric around her employee’s neck.

“I can’t show my love for America the beautiful?” Caroline replied with a wink. Penny laughed with a shake of her head.

Caroline had started at the Hard Deck last summer, asking for a few weekend shifts – the ones no one else wanted to take in order to enjoy their own weekends – since her classes for UCSD ran from Tuesday through Thursday.

“Rent’s due this week, Pen!” Caroline called as she ducked under the counter, greeting her adoring audience as she head to the stockroom to grab a crate of Sam Adams.

Rooster entered the bar that night with his hopes high and his buddies trailing close behind.

He’d had his sights set on Caroline for months. A squeezed shoulder here, a bat at his biceps there and he was hooked. Sometimes he felt like a cartoon, floating behind her like a cherry pie on its way to cool in the open window.

“Oh Rooster, you’re so fucked,” Fanboy commented, catching sight of the brunette wonder first. She was pouring a line of shots across the bar top, handing them out to a group of sailors who wished she was their treat instead. Taking a clear glass for herself, they all clanked their shots before tossing them back.

Penny didn’t mind if Caroline drank on the job – she was a grown woman who knew her limits who could always use working as an excuse to get out of it.

“Here’s trouble,” Caroline announced, “G&T, Fanboy?” She asked as they saddled up to the bar – their first stop before heading back to the darts.

“Please,” Fanboy grinned, basking in the glow of her attention.

“A rum and Coke for Coyote, Hefeweizen for Phoenix and porter for my Rooster,” she listed off, gathering glasses and stationing herself over the beer taps. “That sound right?” She asked with a tilt of her head, locking eyes with Bradley.

“Perfect as always,” he replied, his honey brown eyes melting into hearts.

“Ladies first,” Caroline simpered, handing Phoenix her beer, “then, we go in order of beauty,” she added. “Fanboy,” she passed over the gin and tonic, “Coyote,” she listed next, giving his rum and Coke a swish, “and, last, but certainly not least, Rooster,” she pulled the tap of the porter, leaving just the perfect thin band of foam at the top.

“You trying to break my heart?” Bradley asked, leaning over the bar, willing her to lean in closer.

“I gotta keep you humble, Rooster,” she replied, pushing his glass toward him, “because I know they don’t call you that due to the size of your ego,” she said, turning on a heel to attend to the other side of the bar while Jimmy grabbed the trash to bring out back. Though she tossed a wink over her shoulder that made his upper lip tremble beneath his mustache.

“When you going to let me buy you a drink?” He called out, voice nearly blending in with the buzz of the bar. She shook her head with a laugh, focusing on the task at hand, but they both knew she heard him.

Rooster joined his friends back at the darts. The Fourth of July weekend was guaranteed chaos at the ‘Deck – not too unlike Homecoming weekend at UVA. Bradley loved the liveliness of it all. However, it meant that Caroline’s attention was pulled every which way except his.

“I just think if I could get her alone for 10 minutes…” he said, eyeing her hopefully as she moved about the establishment.

“Rooster, give it up, she’s way out of your league and half the bar in here is hoping she’ll go home with them tonight,” Coyote said honestly.

“You’ve been drooling over her for months,” Fanboy agreed, “it’s getting pretty pathetic.”

But Rooster was more confident than ever. He knew they’d be great together – he just had to show her.

A little time passed, they took up a game of darts and after not too long, Caroline found herself making a sweep for empty glasses.

“Another, Phee?” She asked Phoenix, who nodded with a smile.

“We’ll do another round,” Coyote supplied. Caroline stacked up empty glasses, swinging around the space, aware of Rooster’s eyes on her as he leaned against the side rail that ran the length of the back wall.

“Grab your glass?” She asked, matching his posture against the drink rail, her open hand effortlessly clasping a tower of glass. Rooster pushed his empty toward her, a little downturned twitch of his mustache giving him away. “Why so glum, Rooster? It’s the Fourth of July,” she said, a little pout on her lips that made his stomach flip. “Have to imagine it doesn’t get better than that, huh?”

“What’s it going to take for you to have a drink with me?” He asked. “You know I’m eyein’ you up every time I come in here,” he elaborated.

“Maybe,” Caroline began, “I don’t want to have a drink with you at my place of work?” She suggested lightly. “But if you invited me to Buzzards, your odds would be a lot better,” she shrugged. “Thanks for the glass, Rooster, you can pick up a fresh one in 10.”

Caroline flitted away, making her journey back to the main bar with two tall stacks in her hands, gracefully hip-checking the counter to step inside.

“Maybe you do have a shot after all?” Phoenix asked, raising her brows as she turned back to the game of darts at hand. Bradley’s eyes tracked her as she moved about, pouring beers and mixing cocktails, his eyes zeroing in as she popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth before doing the same to a young, blonde sailor on the other side of the bar.

He wiped the back of his mouth off, crossing the room and heading over to the piano, his first initial plucks of the keys enough to clue a patron in to pull the plug on the juke box.

He cleared his throat as the intro grew stronger and louder, some already recognizing the tune.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing,” he crooned. “But I know it’s growing strong.”

A few cheers rang out.

“Was in the spring, and spring became the summer, who’d have believed you’d come along?”

Caroline’s attention pulled over to the far wall, it now impossible to ignore with half of the bar singing Neil Diamond.

Hands, touching hands Reaching out, touching me, touching you

“Sweet Caroline!” Rooster belted, “good times never seemed so good!”

The crowd sang back, fists being pumped in the air.

So good! So good! So good!

“I’ve been inclined to believe they never would,” he focused his attention back down on his hands, but he could feel the brunette’s stare on the back of his neck.

Caroline shook her head, topping off another drink before grabbing a tall one and making her way through the crowd, which was packed near the piano as he carried on.

One, touching one

“Reaching out, touching me, touching you,” Rooster remained as focused as he could when he felt a paper-light touch travel across his the span of his shoulders, followed by a full beer being set on the top of the piano.

“Okay,” Caroline grinned, “you’ve got my attention,” she said, her arm resting across the top of his back. “So what are you going to do with it now that you have it?”

“The Deck is open until 11 – Buzzards is open till one, meet me there when you’re done?” He asked.

“I’ll be there,” she agreed, running her hand up his spine to squeeze the back of his neck. Rooster could barely keep playing as he nearly twisted his head all the way around to watch her walk away.

Buzzards Bar was different than the Hard Deck – younger, louder, and for Rooster, much less likely to run into his superiors. Sure, lots of sailors and aviators ended up there, but it wasn’t a dedicated bar like their usual haunt. Without the uncertainty hanging over his head, he really loosened up and had fun with his buddies at the Hard Deck, but they didn’t join him a Buzzards, opting to go find some fireworks instead.

It was 11:45 and Caroline hadn’t shown up yet, at least that he could see. He grabbed a round of drinks, another beer for him and a dirty Shirley for Caroline. If nothing else, he knew she loved cherries and this could be a pretty safe assumption.

Keeping a barstool warm near the back, Rooster’s gaze scanned the growing crowd on the dance floor. He could feel the air shift as Caroline approached the table, dressed in her same little outfit, bandanna around her neck like a little pack of goodies he’d like to unwrap. However, an unfamiliar man, who was standing just a bit closer to her than either of them liked, was closely trailing her. He was obviously trying to carry on a conversation with her over the loud bass of the music and she couldn’t be less interested.

Without effort or hiccup, Caroline waltzed right up to Rooster, standing between his legs that were angled outward on either side of his body, his feet on the bar of the stool. She leaned up against him, her elbows on resting on his thighs with her back to his front. Rooster’s arm immediately looped around her body, resting just below her neck, spanning across her chest.

The man immediately got the message and backed off, but she remained snug in his embrace when he walked away.

Caroline tipped her head back to look up at Rooster.

She knew she had a reputation as a flirt. It was silly to be a bartender and not take advantage just a little bit of what God gave her. But she loved Rooster’s attention. He was safe, simple and straightforward. He didn’t play games and treated her with respect.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she smiled, sending the breath rushing from his lungs.

“Happy Fourth,” Rooster said, using his free hand to offer her the cocktail.

“Mm, cherry – how’d you know?” She asked, taking a sip through the small black straw.

“Watchin’,”he replied, missing her warmth already as she put a little space between them, standing with her back to the dance floor.

“You watchin’ me?” She asked innocently enough, elbows on the high-top table. It took everything in him to keep his eyes on her face and not her cleavage that was winning the fight against her little white tank top.

“Hard to look away,” he said, taking a drink of his beer. “Though I think this is the most time you’ve ever spent looking back at me,” he added.

“Then you’re not as observant as you think, aviator,” Caroline said, setting her drink down reaching for his hand, pulling him off the chair and leading him into the throng of bodies. “Because I look at you plenty.”

Rooster was so surprised and exhilarated he wasn’t sure where to put his hands right away as she leaned back into him, moving her body to the beat of the song.

Cause great scenes might be great But I love your bloopers

“Rooster, relax,” Caroline purred as he ducked his head down to be closer to hers – his height difference over her apparent. She reached back, taking his hands in her and placing them on her body – one on her ribs and the other just inside of her hips. “You got me right where you wanted me.”

And perfect's for the urgent Baby I want forever

Caroline’s hands drifted up to cradle the back of his head, her back arching in the slightest. And while Bradley Bradshaw was a man of morals, they were mostly forgotten as he lowered his mouth to Caroline’s neck.

Caroline, don't you see that I want you to be mine?

“You request this one?” Rooster asked, his mustache ticking her in a skin, which immediately went to her nipples, hardening them beneath her tank.

“Just lucky I guess,” she breathed, rolling her head to the side to give him a little more access to her skin.

“I think luck follows you around,” he said.

“It must if you’re here with me,” she replied. Rooster didn’t even justify her comments with an answer. If she thought she was lucky because he was there with her, she wouldn’t begin to comprehend the amount of times he’d dreamt of this moment.

“Rooster?” She asked, threading her fingers through his hair, giving it a little tug as a test. The groan in her ear told her all she needed to know.

“Caroline,” he huffed out an exhale.

“I don’t want the rest of that drink,” she said, looking up to lock eyes with him. “I want you to put me in that big blue truck of yours and take me home.” Rooster felt his heart skip hard enough that it shot him with adrenaline.

“Honey, lead the way,” he replied, sober as a judge.

She’d seen the blue Bronco pull up to the Hard Deck a hundred times – it was as much a calling card of Rooster’s as his mustache or Hawaiian shirts. Now, she was thrilled to be inspecting the inside, her back to Rooster’s side with his arm draped over her shoulder again as she made the most of the bench seating.

Leading Caroline by the hand from the car to the house, she gladly stepped into his bachelor pad.

Rooster was just grateful that Bob was out of town for the weekend.

“Roommate?” She asked, walking along the picture rail in the family room – something Bob put up. It was mostly his stuff, anyway.

“You know Bob?” Bradley asked, tracking her movement as he stepped out of his shoes.

“Bob the sweetheart is your roommate?” She asked, looking over her shoulder, eyes dilating in the slightest as she took in the view. Rooster with his big shoulders, broad chest and handsome face – honey brown eyes focusing entirely in on her.

“Bob the sweetheart?” He asked, a small quirk to his lips.

“Bob the sweetheart, Bob the puppy dog…” she trailed off. “Pen and I have many nicknames for perfect Bob.”

“I think I’ve heard enough about perfect Bob,” Rooster said, advancing her like a predator stalking its prey.

“Want me to tell you what we call you behind your back?” She asked, a glint in her eye as he scooped her up with one arm, holding her tightly to his body as he carried her back to his bedroom.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“We – well, more like just me, because Penny babies you,” she screamed as Rooster gave her ass a hard squeeze. “But I,” she leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “I call you Oh My God Rooster,” she giggled, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. “Want to know why?” She asked.

“Tell me,” he said, kicking in his bedroom door.

“Because I always knew one day you’d make me say,” she fisted his shirt in her hands and tossed her head back, “Oh my God, Rooster!” She moaned, quickly gasping as he dropped her on his unmade bed.

“That shit isn’t fair,” he pointed an accusatory finger down at her before reaching for the fly on his shorts.

“Why not?” Caroline asked with a tilt of her head as she leaned back on her elbows.

“Because ever since you started at the Hard Deck, you haven’t given me the time of day,” he crawled over her on the bed, sealing his mouth over hers.

“I was avoiding you, I’ll admit,” she smirked, hips lifting as he began to pull her shorts off. “I knew as soon as this happened,” she paused, lifting his chin up to kiss her once more, “there’d be no going back.”

“You didn’t want to be my friend?” He asked, running his nose down her jawline as he reached behind her, pulling off her tank.

“Oh Rooster, we’re going to be much more than friends,” she purred, unhooking her bra. She reached for her little bandanna, but he stopped her.

“Leave it on, cowgirl,” he said, licking his lips. Stunned, he found himself down on the mattress, Caroline swinging a leg over his body to land gracefully on his hips. She pulled her bra down her arms and tossed it somewhere into the darkness – Bradley’s bedroom illuminated by the bright light of the moon through his window. He thought his tongue might roll out of his mouth like a yoyo.

“Does that make you my bucking bronco?” She giggled, reaching behind her to give his erection a quick, firm pump.

“Jesus,” he hissed, all the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Just Caroline,” she grinned maliciously.

“Why don’t you get up here and let me find out how sweet you are, Caroline,” he cajoled, tipping his chin up. The brunette threaded her fingers through his hair as she settled over his mouth, a long, low moan drawn from her lips as he licked a broad, flat swipe up the seam of her sex. Rooster’s hands slid around her sides and up to her lower back holding her body tight against his face.

“You’re never allowed to shave that mustache,” Caroline panted, followed by a high-pitched whine as she felt his whiskers against her clit. “Right there,” she mewled.

Rooster was a generous lover and apparently had a voracious appetite.

“Jesus Christ, Rooster,” she shivered as one of his thick fingers teased her entrance, circling her slowly as his lips cradled her clit. She could feel each and every one of his taste buds against her. “Roo, please,” she panted, “I want your cock.”

Bradley lifted her, a squeal on her lips as she landed back down on his abs. She couldn’t help but smile broadly at his wet mouth.

“If you smile at me like that again, I’m going to fucking marry you, Caroline,” he threatened, absolutely captivated by her.

She untied the bandanna from her neck, reaching down to cover his eyes and tie it loosely behind his head.

“Then don’t look, because I think I’m going to enjoy this a lot,” she said, smiling just the same as she lined up his cock and slowly sank down on it.

“You’re amazing,” Rooster crowed, “God you feel so good,” he said, hands resting on her soft thighs.

“You’re big,” she huffed, “like shit, Rooster, how do you have such good posture?” She asked, making him bark out a laugh. She settled herself all the way down and squeezed him on an upswing, making his abs flex as he tried to keep from busting immediately.

Leaning down, while still riding him smoothly, she pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek, tracing the line there with her tongue. He jumped as she dragged her teeth against his jawline, biting him gently while rolling his balls in her palm.

“Caroline,” he sounded worried, “I-fwa,” he lost his words as she did it again.

“Want me to stop?” She asked innocently enough.

“Don’t you dare,” he grunted while she tweaked his nipple.

“I can see it now,” she giggled, the action sending a ripple of pleasure down his spine. “C-a-r-o-l-i-n-e,” she twirled a finger across his pec.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he promised, a sweat breaking out across his brow. He could feel her fingernails just grazing his happy trail as Caroline circled her clit, wanting to meet him at his level.

“Rooster?” She asked, and he could hear the breathlessness in her voice.

“Caroline?” He countered, his face screwed up in conversation.

“Cum,” she commanded, finding her own euphoria, setting him off just moments later, thrusting up into her as he rode out his orgasm. Caroline grinned, pushing off his blindfold to reveal his beautiful face again. “Hi gorgeous,” she greeted, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

“What did I tell you about that smile?” He groaned, palming her ass in his hands.

“I know the consequences of my actions,” she sighed dreamily. Climbing off of Rooster, she wandered her way into the bathroom, cleaning up and grabbing the T-shirt that was slung over the bathroom door before pulling it on.

Rooster was sure he was delirious as she joined him back in the bed, hiking a leg over his hip and throwing his comforter over both of them.

“Rooster?” She asked, sparing a glance over at his alarm clock, which was flashing nearly two in the morning.

“Caro-line,” he sang back.

“I want my eggs scrambled in the morning,” she said, eyes closing gently as she curled up on his chest.

“Yeah? And what would you like to eat?”

#Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster #rooster smut #rooster fluff #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x ofc #smut head #rooster is a big simp

622 notes · View notes

magic-cityy · 11 months

Text

⚡️🦇

#myself #me #beardmen #men with beards #aviators #men with glasses #bling #batman #michael keaton #dceu #dcu #yeezy foam runner #queens ny #nyc #Stevie B

2 notes · View notes

peanutsairplanes · 3 months

Text

youtube

✈ He seleccionado el Evans VP-1 Volksplane para emplear materiales menos usuales y ensayar nuevas posibilidades de diseño.

📄 El modelo queda más pesado que si lo hubiera hecho con una construcción clásica, por lo que puede ser más indicado para volar en exterior.

0 notes

sramfact · 2 years

Text

The aerospace foams market size is projected to grow from USD 4.4 billion in 2019 to USD 6.5 billion by 2024, at a CAGR of 8.2% from 2019 to 2024. The rising demand for lightweight and fuel-efficient aircraft have led to the extensive use of advanced materials such as PU foams and PE foams, among others, in the aerospace industry. The manufacture of advanced materials as well as new products launched by several prominent players for the aerospace industry is one of the key factors driving the growth of the aerospace foams industry across the globe.

Aerospace foams are advanced materials of various cell sizes, capacities, and properties. The cell sizes of the aerospace foams determine the flexibility or rigidity of the foams and thus, dictates the application areas where they can be used. Aerospace foams are manufactured using various materials, such as PU (polyurethane), PE (polyethylene), melamine, metal, and PMI/polyimide, among others, which meet the flame, smoke, and toxicity (FST) standards in the aerospace industry. These foams are used in various applications in aircrafts such as seating, seals, gaskets, carpet pads, headrests, rotor blades, doors, windshields, cockpit instrument panels, wingtip lens, and several others.

Based on material type, the aerospace foams market has been segmented into PU foams, PE foams, melamine foams, metal foams, PMI/polyimide foams, and others which includes PVDF foams, PPSU foams, silicone foams, ceramic foams, PEI foams, PET foams, PVC foams, and polycarbonate foams. The PU foams segment has the highest market share in terms of both value and volume, among all the material type segments in 2018. It is projected to follow the same trend from 2019 to 2024 in terms of both value and volume. PU foams are used in a variety of applications ranging from seating, airframes, interiors, and packaging in the aerospace industry. The availability in different forms ranging from low to high density with varying rigidity as well as ease-of-use makes them compatible to be used in a multitude of aerospace applications. Some useful properties of PU foams include durability, lightweight, and recyclability. These factors support the rising global demands for lightweight and fuel-efficient aircraft, which is one of the primary drivers of the aerospace foams market.

0 notes

mignonricciardo · 2 years

Text

can't take my eyes off you | bb

this is not what I typically write about and its so off brand for me BUT seeing the new top gun brought back my childhood obsession and my miles teller crush since footloose... also my military family would actually murder me if they knew I was thirsting over fictional (and real) military men

UPDATE: part 2 is here!

reader's call sign is magnet and rooster calls you mags for short <3 the idea of singer!rooster who loves older music is everything to me

summary: the past is never really in the past, and rooster proves that when the squadron spends their first night out of uniform at the bar

notes: cursing, some angst, fluff, alcohol, allusion to a suggestive ending, this was supposed to be much shorter

The evening crowd is still trickling into the bar slowly as the bartender slides me another round. Penny is on the other side of the bartop, wiping down counters and organizing the back before the rush of rowdy pilots and their onlookers. Surely, the rest of the aviators and naval officers will be coming in soon, and I just say a prayer that Phoenix will be in the first wave of attendees. When my Budweiser bottle is down to nothing but some foam, I slide the bottle to the other end of the counter and wait for the bartender to come by with another. As I’m about to flag him down, desperate for at least one more beer before facing the rest of the squadron, I am interrupted.

“Mags,” Rooster draws out, slinging an arm around my shoulder as he leans into me.

I look to Phoenix as the man orders a round for the group, including another Budweiser. She mouths a silent I’m sorry before the man leaning on me turns to look at me.

“You came without us?” Rooster asks with a smirk, pushing his sunglasses higher up his nose.

“Needed a break from all the testosterone,” I grin at him, shrugging his arm off my shoulders.

“C’mon, I told you I was sorry, Magnet!” he calls as I walk away with the Budweiser he had given to me.

I flash him the middle finger as Phoenix follows me, and she laughs wildly as the other pilots erupt in cheering and yelling around Rooster. He stands dumbfounded, a grin playing on his lips as Fanboy slaps him on the back. I catch the grin on the bartender’s face as he reaches for the bell, and our friends watch with bated breath. When he rings the bell, the entire place erupts in cheering, and Rooster quirks an eyebrow from behind his aviators. I shrug my shoulders at him before following Phoenix toward other lieutenants from the naval base.

“They’re classier than pilots,” she grins as we approach. “I love a man that knows his way around some ropes.”

I laugh at her comment, still holding back a grin when she introduces herself to the group of naval officers. I follow her lead, relishing in the way some of their eyes linger on my curves in the sundress rather than my typical boxy look with my uniform on and hair slicked back in a tight bun. After an hour or so, Phoenix has convinced them I’ve never lost a round of pool, and it doesn’t take long for me to be leaning into the pool table with eyes focused on my target. The men around us go silent as I drain my fifth striped ball in a row, and Phoenix stands with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face. My sixth ball drifts wide, hitting the bumper and rolling to a stop centimeters from the corner, and I look to my opponent with a grin.

“Think you can play catch up?”

He nods with a smirk as he bends toward the table, firing upon a solid that lands perfectly in one of the side pockets. From across the bar, Rooster is trying not to notice how my dress hitches up every time I bend over the green table, or how my opponent’s eyes linger on my body with each of my shots. Fanboy and Payback notice Rooster zoning out as he waits for his turn at the dartboard, and Hangman chuckles as he dangles a dart in front of his face. Payback elbows Rooster in the ribs, and the pilot shakes his head to clear his brain of me bent over the pool table. He’s off with his dart, and the pack groans as Hangman hits a bullseye to win. Even with his rival’s obnoxious gloating, Rooster looks back to where the unfamiliar naval officer leans closer to me now. A uniform-clad thigh brushes against mine, and Rooster starts to walk toward the pool table without a second thought. Fanboy tries to follow, calling his name as he weaves through the crowded bar.

The 8 ball sits precariously against the corner, and just as I’m about to send the cue ball across the table, something cold brushes my arm and stops my momentum. I whip my head to the side, ready to tell off whoever broke my concentration, and even more anger festers when I see familiar aviators and a well-groomed mustache come into view. Rooster grins, sensing the annoyance radiating from me, as he wedges himself between me and my opponent.

“Brought you another,” he holds out the cold Budweiser to me. “Looked like you could use some cooling down over here.”

“She’s good, man,” my opponent speaks up, putting a hand on Rooster’s shoulder to direct him away from us.

“Clearly, she’s not,” he grins, leaning his forearms against the suede table and pointing toward a pocket with the longneck bottle. “She would’ve banked all of these in one round if she were good.”

“Go finish darts with your boys,” I huff, nudging him with my hip to get him to move. “I’m fine, Roost.”

“See man? She said she’s good,” my opponent puffs his chest out as his voice raises.

Phoenix’s eyes go wide as she senses where this is going, and she slinks away from the lieutenant she had been chatting up to be a bit closer to me in case Rooster lost his head. Rooster lets out a laugh, unphased by the man in uniform next to him.

“Mags, you know I’m right,” his voice is calm despite his cocky attitude. “Go ahead and show him. Far left corner pocket.”

I look at him trying to bite back a smirk as my anger ebbs. I should be angry with him still, but he always makes it difficult to stay mad at him. Rooster continues as I assess the shot he pointed out.

“You know why they call her Magnet?” he smiles as he tips his beer toward me. My opponent shakes his head as Rooster chuckles, “She’s always sticking to the enemy. You just can’t shake her.”

“You know why they call him Rooster?” I look back over my shoulder, grinning at the two men. “He’s a massive cock.”

My opponent looks at me, barely glancing at Rooster in between us as he laughs. The small crowd around us erupts in hollers at my comment, and I line up the shot Rooster challenged me to call. I take another glance at the logistics of the move, and my opponent notices me weighing it. He glances at Rooster as he speaks.

“Are you trying to get her to lose? That’s almost impossible,” he says. “Call it, and I win.”

“Is that a challenge, Lieutenant?” Rooster grins, knowing what is coming from me and Phoenix.

“Phoenix!” I hold back laughter as I use my best admiral impression.

My friend takes a step toward me, hand to her forehead in a knowing salute, “Yes, ma’am!”

“Remind me of how we respond to challenges from men,” I grin at her, and her cheeks puff out with laughter.

“Put them in their place, ma’am!” she continues her impression of a dutiful petty officer.

“Now, excuse me, boys,” I grin, pushing Rooster and my opponent back before bending over the table and pointing the cue to the pocket. “Far left.”

Rooster crosses his arms across his chest with a smirk, eyes flitting across my figure behind his aviators, and my opponent watches with a cocky smirk, elbowing one of his friends in a premature notion of victory. Phoenix drops her salute, and the pool cue slides over my knuckles with ease before making contact with the side of the cue ball. We all watch as the ball spins, veering toward the bumper where it ricochets across the table. It lands in the far left pocket with a resounding clink, and I stand from the side of the table looking at both Rooster and my opponent with a grin.

“That’s how it’s done, boys,” Phoenix says as I reach out for the Budweiser from Rooster’s hands, fingers brushing over the red label as he holds it out to me.

“Told you,” Rooster throws over his shoulder to my opponent who is still staring at the table in shock. “She’s good.”

“Play nice, you two,” I call over my shoulder, walking away from the table and making sure my hips sway lightly as I maneuver through the crowd.

Both Rooster and the other lieutenant watch as I walk away, and Phoenix elbows Rooster in the ribs.

“If you want her to forgive you, you need to do something else besides bring her a beer,” my friend starts. “And stop staring at her ass.”

“I was so not doing that,” he fires back at the pilot.

“Those aviators don’t hide everything, Roost,” she calls, making her way back toward the officer she had been speaking to during my victorious round of pool.

After two hours of the rowdy bar with Rooster’s eyes following me, I step outside toward the beach for some fresh air and quiet. The sand is still warm from the beating sun that has set, and I sit on one of the plush benches down from the bar. I take deep breaths as the waves crash, and after a few minutes of quiet, I hear the wooden door shut to the bar entrance behind me.

“Are you following me, Bradshaw?” I say before I even see him.

He chuckles as he sits on the beach chair across from me, “We’re on to last names now?”

I try my best to glare at him, but my anger quickly fades at his crooked smile and aviators hanging from his shirt. I graciously accept the water bottle he dangles in front of me, taking a sip before answering him.

“If that’s the only way you’ll listen to me,” I shrug, looking back to the Pacific as it crashes gently on the shore.

“Mags, listen,” his voice is quieter than before, lacking some of his usual lightheartedness.

I turn to face him, looking at his gaze that is finally free of his aviator frames. His hazel eyes look more green in the ambient light from the Hard Deck, and freckles from the California sun dot his face. I want to kick myself for noticing Rooster in front of me--for noticing him as a man rather than a friend or a pilot.

“I’m sorry, okay? You are absolutely right to be mad at me, and I see now where I screwed up.”

“I can hold my own, Rooster,” I start. “I don’t need you to try to protect me or help me out.”

“Hangman left you out to dry, and you weren’t standing up for yourself to Mav,” he says, leaning in a few inches to look at me. “I couldn’t let you take the brunt of his screw up and then the extra push-ups.”

“Why not? Because I’m a girl?” my voice is angrier than I really feel, but Rooster freezes in the wake of my words anyway.

His eyes are soft as he takes in the weight of my words, but he lets me continue instead of interrupting me, “I can take the yelling from Mav, and I can take the push-ups from Hondo. I’ve trained for this, Roost, not because someone took it easy on me.”

“I know, Mags, and I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way,” he whispers, and without a thought, his fingers tuck a piece of stray hair behind my ear. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s you, Rooster! It’s because you want to stand up to Mav. You want to challenge him and prove him wrong in everything. You want to beat him,” I stare at him incredulously, butterflies in my stomach from when his fingertip barely grazed my cheek as he tucked hair back. “I know you’re still angry with him, but you need to get some perspective.”

He is silent as he sits in front of me, and out of instinct, I grab both of his hands and clutch them between mine, “He still feels guilty about your dad, and I can’t imagine how he would feel if something happened to you. Don’t you think he did what he did to try to protect you?”

“It wasn’t up to him to make that decision for me,” he whispers, eyes still locked on mine.

“Just like it’s not up to you to determine what I can and can’t take,” my voice is gentle between us. “I’m no different than you.”

His hands clutch mine as silence falls between us. The ocean crashes on the shore, and we can hear continued laughter and chatter from the bar behind us. Rooster’s chest rises and falls steadily, and I can hear his breathing in the cool sea breeze. His eyes travel across my face, lingering over my lips before coming back to my eyes.

“Not to change the subject, but if I say something out of line, are you going to beat the shit out of me?” he asks with a barely-there grin.

“I’ll make you buy me another beer,” I whisper back to him. “Depending on how out of line, you’ll owe the whole place another round.”

He drops our hands between his, and he runs one of his through his hair before they settle back in his lap in a fidget, “You look good out of uniform, Mags. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you like this.”

My cheeks turn red as I smirk, “You know Roost, I wasn’t going to say anything, but so do you. It looks like Virginia is treating you well.”

“I could say the same for you about Florida,” he laughs quietly. “Things haven’t changed since we graduated from TOP GUN together, have they?”

I shake my head, eyes meeting his as he swallows hard, “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“You still drink Budweiser and wear that jean jacket as your unofficial uniform,” he whispers quietly, fingers tracing the seam of the jacket revealing one of my shoulders. I breathe in sharply when his fingers barely graze my tanned skin. His fingers continue their path along the familiar jacket, “I still see you as a woman, even when I know I shouldn’t.”

“Bradley,” I whisper, and his eyes snap up to mine.

“Please don’t call me that, Mags, because I can’t do this again,” his voice is gentle as he pleads. “I’m wrapped around your finger, and you know it, and when you say my name like that, I can’t say no to you.”

One of my hands rests on his cheek, feeling the scruff beneath my palm and thumb resting over a cluster of freckles, “I never stopped thinking about you. You’ve been my only constant through every new assignment and relocation.”

“When I walked in here that first night, and I saw you, I should have known,” he begins, swallowing thickly. “I should have known this was going to happen.”

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, hand still pressed to his cheek. “We’ll be here together for a few weeks. We’ll flirt, and we’ll reminisce. At the end of this, we’ll move on. We always do, Rooster.”

“We might not go home this time, Magnet,” his fingers wrap around my wrist, thumb tracing up the inside of my forearm. “You heard Maverick and the admiral. I don’t want to leave anything unsaid. It has to end differently this time”

“Rooster, please,” I breathe quietly.

He watches me with gentle breaths, hanging on to whatever words are about to come from my lips. My eyes search his face frantically, trying to find the words, and they linger over his lips before flicking back to his eyes. For a moment, there is nothing but our breaths and the gentle waves on the shore. I’m leaning in toward him, lips almost brushing as I speak.

“Please just kiss me,” I whisper, and he wastes no time in closing the gap between us.

His soft lips press against mine, and my fingers take root in the short hair at the back of his head. One of his hands rests on my waist, bunching up the sundress fabric as he pulls me closer to the edge of the bench. When my lips part just enough to welcome his tongue, a loud whistle sends us jolting apart, and both of our chests heave for air.

“C’mon, lovebirds!” Phoenix calls with a smirk. “Hangman wants another karaoke competition. Better hope the whole squadron still wants to do it after seeing this.”

Fanboy stands next to her, grinning so wide his cheeks must hurt. Coyote and Payback pump their fists on the other side of the glass, and Bob sends two big thumbs up as Hangman laughs.

“Fuck,” Rooster mumbles to himself, standing from the bench. “It’s my fault, Mags.”

He stretches a hand out, pulling me up from the bench. I follow suit, feet sinking into the sand as we trudge back toward the bar. Rooster’s broad back blocks most of my view until we stop right before Phoenix and Fanboy.

“I knew you were friends from graduating together,” Fanboy grins with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t know your tongues were acquainted, too.”

“I hope you have to do 600 push-ups tomorrow,” Rooster fires at the WSO.

Phoenix grins as Rooster scowls, “We’ll use our time to figure out a name for the two of you. Magnet and Rooster don’t really mesh well.”

Rooster sighs, “Fuck both of you.”

The two giggle as Fanboy speaks up, “Seems I’m not the one being fucked tonight, Roost.”

My jaw drops at the comment from Fanboy’s mouth, and Phoenix covers her mouth to try to prevent the deep-bellied laughter falling from it. Rooster’s eyes are wide and cheeks red as he stares at the lieutenant in front of him.

“You owe everyone a round,” Rooster smirks. “Just disrespected a lady.”

Phoenix shakes her head as she furrows her brows, “If I recall, you were staring at her ass the entire time she was playing pool. That’s another round on you.”

I glare at him, and he pinches between his eyebrows, “I’m sorry, Mags. You were bent over the table in that sundress.”

“Alright, everyone inside,” I bark, pushing all three back into the bar. “I’ve been embarrassed enough for one day.”

“I thought him staring was a compliment!” Fanboy calls as I shove him into the threshold.

Rooster smacks his shoulder, “Man, shut up.”

The crowd cheers as we enter the bar, and a part of me debates crawling beneath the pool table to avoid the eyes on us. The boys clap Rooster on the back as he settles at the piano, and Coyote sends a wink my way as he calls out the term loverboy. Rooster’s fingers fly across the keys of the old piano, and he sings along loudly with Coyote and Hangman as a large group of attendees join them. I lean against the far wall, watching the ease and carefree attitudes of everyone--a welcomed sight after the tense day training with Maverick and our not-so-private kiss. I bring the beer bottle to my lips, welcoming the cool liquid as it passes, and Phoenix leans against the wall next to me.

“So, Rooster, huh?” her voice is quiet so that only I can hear her over the rambunctious singing. “It makes sense, you know.”

“It’s long and complicated,” I answer her, eyes never leaving the man behind the piano. “There’s a history.”

“He watches you, too,” she nods her hod, tossing back her own beer. “He’s been looking at you all night, but also in training. He worries about you when you go up.”

“That’s why it’ll never work,” I mumble. “He wants to protect me, but he can’t.”

“Don’t you want to do the same?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

“Emotions compromise us,” I whisper, eyes following him as he throws his head back with a laugh. “We might not come home, Phoenix. Not just this mission, but any time we go up. How can I let anything happen knowing neither of us may come home one day?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “You have to ask yourself if it’s worth it. Do you live without ever taking the chance, or do you live knowing you got to spend at least some time together? Look at Mav and Penny. Do you want to be like that if you don’t have to be?”

“You know, if this whole pilot thing doesn’t work out for you,” I grin at her, “you’ve got a future in negotiations. You’ve got a way with words.”

She chuckles, “Thanks, but I think the pilot thing is working just fine for now.”

We continue to talk in between watching our squadron sing their hearts out around the piano, clinking beers and leaning on each other. Rooster places his hands out around the crowd, bringing them lower to the keys to quiet the crowd. He grins as he locks eyes with me, and our fellow lieutenants egg him on.

“Mags, you’ve got to forgive me!” he shouts, and the crowd around him starts to cheer. “I just can’t take my eyes off of you!”

He begins to play Frankie Valli’s famous song, voice belting out the words to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. Our squadron around him cheers wildly as they start to sing along, and my cheeks turn bright red in the ambient light of the bar. I catch Phoenix next to me, laughing as she nudges me forward from the wall. The crowd continues to carry the melody, vocalizing the brass section of the song. He grabs one of my hands, pulling me into the crowd with him as he sings.

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night. I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby. Now that I’ve found you, stay and let me love you, baby. Let me love you.”

The bar crowd provides backing vocals, and Rooster sings so loud a vein in his neck bulges as his smile embeds itself permanently on his cheeks. He spins me around as he sings, twirling me across the floor to face our squadron members before curling me back into his embrace. I laugh wildly along with him, eventually belting out the lyrics with him.

“You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off you.”

His hazel eyes are crinkled in the corners as he sings, hands gripping my waist as I spin. He lets me go flying across the floor, ending up with Payback who smiles as he sings. Rooster pulls Phoenix to the floor, sending her across just as I had while Payback nudges me back toward Rooster. He continues his lively singing, eyes locked on mine as he does. I can’t stop my laughter at his over-the-top performance. He holds me out as the song comes to an end, leaning in closer than previously acceptable.

“Stay and let me love you, baby. Let me love you.”

When his note ends, I decide to make the move and close the space between us. Much to the applause of the crowd around us, they clap and cheer as Rooster and I’s lips meet in the dim bar. The kiss is brief and innocent, full of smiles and dopamine. When I break away from him, his smile is so wide that dimples appear on his cheeks.

“Rooster,” I say loud enough for only him to hear, a grin filling my face. “Take me home.”

He grins as he leans in for another kiss, breaking away and pulling me through the bar to his car in the parking lot, “Show me the way, honey.”

#top gun #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #miles teller #miles teller top gun

2K notes · View notes

fanatic1997 · 2 years

Note

18 & 45 from prompt list, featuring hangman

Prompts: “Take. It. Off.” and “If you touch her, I’ll break your hand.”

You quickly downed the first beer Penny had placed in front of you and asked for another.

“Woah there, I’ll give you another one, but you have to tell me what’s this all about,” the bar owner laughed but you knew she wasn’t kidding.

“Ugh, it’s Hangman…,” you groaned, making grabby hands for the beer stein in Penny’s hand.

You didn’t feel like finishing your sentence and honestly, Penny didn’t need you to. She knew how the blonde worked and how often his mouth liked to stir costly bar fights.

She also knew how often the blonde aviator stared at you when you weren’t looking. He always seemed to make sure to stay close to you. She also didn’t miss the glares he had sent at the poor souls who decided to flirt with you which were commonly the cause of the bar fights.

Of course, you would never know about the fighter pilot’s true feelings because Hangman did a hell of job pissing you off every chance he could.

Usually, you weren’t one to let Hangman’s taunts get to you, let alone cause you to chug copious amounts of alcohol so quickly. Except, today. He must have gone too far.

Penny only chuckled shaking her head at you in mock disappointment as you asked for yet another pour.

The situation in front of her (you) grew even more interesting as she watched a certain cocky pilot walk into her bar.

Hangman’s eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on you. He watched you slightly slosh your beer as you brought it to your mouth. He bit his lip watching you chug down an obscene amount of alcohol in one gulp.

Penny found Hangman’s new found shyness quiet amusing. Today, the fighter pilot was sending you puppy eyes from the pool table like a kid in time out.

Penny had officially cut you off on your sixth pour and Hangman was growing antsy watching you stumble slightly in your chair.

He wasn’t the only one starting to get worried. Rooster had already approached you asking if you needed a ride home. That had been 2 pours ago and you had waived off your friend stating you weren’t done drinking yet.

You brought the glass to your mouth but missed. You must have been really intoxicated because by the time you realized you were pouring beer on yourself; your white shirt was soaked completely see through. You cackled at your own expense.

Hangman had had enough. He was going to take you home now.

But he wasn’t the only that had witnessed your blunder. He watched Rooster come to your aid and slide off his Hawaiian shirt, draping it over you to preserve some of your modesty.

“Thanks, Roose. But aren’t you going to get cold?” Your words were slow and quite slurred but your classmate understood you.

“I don’t think so y/n,” Rooster chuckled. “Can I help you button the shirt?” Rooster laughed ready to replace your clumsy fingers with his deft ones.

“Touch her and I’ll break your hand,” you heard Hangman sneer. Apparently, you weren’t intoxicated enough to not recognized that voice.

Rooster was roughly shoved to the side, and you were suddenly staring at Hangman’s very naked chest. Fuck Hangman for being so ripped.

“Take. It. Off.” Your eyes widened. You had never heard Hangman so angry. He was practically seething. You expected to see foam around his mouth judging by his tone.

His green eyes were practically burning holes at the offending item wrapped around your shoulders.

You’re intoxicated mind decided to just do as he ordered hoping he would leave you alone after that. You weren’t in the right state to argue with him right now. You took off Rooster’s shirt and the blonde aviator, surprisingly, averted his eyes to give you some privacy.

Apparently, the black bra you were wearing was on full display. With his eyes averted, he placed his uniform shirt around your shoulders.

“Oh, that’s where your shirt went,” you stupidly mumbled. Damn, you really hoped you wouldn’t remember that in the morning. You saw the corner of Hangman’s lip quirk up in a half smile as he made quick work of the buttons.

Hangman stepped back to appreciate the sight of you in his shirt. The sudden rage he had felt seconds ago seeing you in another man’s clothes was now replaced with another emotion he couldn’t quiet place.

“Let’s go, I’m taking you home.” Although an order, Hangman’s tone was much softer now. He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out of the bar.

Penny smirked from behind the counter. Hopefully there would be less bar fights now.

....

Part 2: The Morning After here!

Permanent taglist:

@n3ssm0nique

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy this half as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

#hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun: maverick #top gun #hangman x reader #hangman #bradly bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #glen powell

1K notes · View notes

newwritergirl · 3 days

Text

Starting over | Part 12

Masterlist

This is the new part of my TopGun fic. You can once again skip this part, if you don't like steamy filthy smut. There's no important plot, so you can wait for the next chapter. No problem!

MINORS DNI!!! This is pure smut!

Summary: The three have a steamy time in the shower. No plot, just smut!

Trigger warnings: pure smut! 18+, minors DNI! piv (wrap it before you tap it! this is fiction), some dirty talk

Word count: 2.2k +

A/N: Please let me know if my choice of words is wrong or embarassing, English is not my first language and this is my second smut writing and I want to encrease my writing constantly. Thanks for all the support!

Strong arms are enveloping y/n from behind. In the past it would have made her flinch, a man hovering above her always meant incoming pain or at least a threat. But nowadays it makes her whole body fill with a warmth, lets her shiver, pure tender electricity is spreading through her body.

“What are you doing, cupcake?” Jake graces the shell of her ear as he lowers his head to softly kiss her neck. His plump lips on her delicate neck make moan and wiggle in his arms.

“Jakey, it’s my turn to cook dinner for us, so hop under the shower, you’re smelling like jet fuel and sweat.” Y/n turns around and looks up at the blonde aviator who is still in his flying suit. To see her boyfriends in their flying suits or in their uniforms is always a sight for sore eyes. She absolutely adores them in their work attire.

“We thought you could join us in the shower. Let’s order some food later…” Jake hoists her up as if she weights nothing and sits the squealing woman on the kitchen counter. He opens her legs as wide as he can with her still wearing her pencil skirt. With a firm grip he grabs her delicate hips and nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck, softly sucking on her sensitive spot above her collarbone.

“Rooster is already waiting in the shower to get it warm for our girl.” He tells her between kisses and soft love bites.

“Two naked aviators all wet and soapy? Show me the way Lieutenant Commander Seresin.”

Her answer makes him grin devilishly. “That’s the answer I needed to hear. But first let’s get rid of this skirt and blouse of yours. As much as I like to see you in this sexy pencil skirt and the blouse, we need you naked…”

---

The shower spray feels like a warm blanket on her skin. She can’t help but let out a small whimper as she feels strong hands massaging the flowery shampoo into her hair, short nails scraping over her head occasionally. She buries her head into the warm and wet chest of the brunette aviator in front of her when Jake starts to wash out the foam which surrounded her silky hair. To be in the shower with both her boyfriends feels so intimate, the vulnerability of being naked wet and huddled into the space of the shower isn’t as intimidate as she feared. She feels so safe with Jake and Bradley.

Y/n starts stroking Bradley’s abs up and down and places soft kisses on his muscular chest. His heartrate picks up as the touch of her small hands nearing his already hard member. Behind the smaller woman Jake completes his task to wash his girlfriend’s hair. His hand now wandering down her neck and further down to the swell of her breasts. When his strong hands stroke over her sensitive nipples she shudders and buries her head once more into Bradley’s chest.

“Are you cold, baby?” Jake whispers into her ear “Should we make the water warmer?”

She can’t form a coherent sentence right now, the feeling of both aviators touching her naked and wet body almost too much for her. She looks up at Bradley when she lets her hands wander further down to cup his big cock, giving him a stroke with her hands. To steady himself he reaches out and grabs Jake’s shoulders and hisses as y/n starts to fist him a bit tighter. The blonde aviator enjoys the play of his partners in front of him. He’s still intrigued with their whole situation. He and Rooster love the same girl, not only sharing a house but sharing a bed, sharing the same love for this gorgeous woman in front of him. And still he doesn’t feel a whiff of jealousy, not even now when both of them are making out heavily. Actually watching the two is making his heart swell even more, well not only his heart. He’s just as hard as Rooster, nearly painfully hard and heavily aroused watching the small woman stroking Rooster’s remarkable cock. The same cock he tasted days ago.

After giving y/n’s nipples one last pinch he lets his hands wander down further. Her body is so warm because of the hot water of the shower. He needs to feel her, wants to feel her clenching on his fingers, hear her whimper when he strokes her sensitive clit. Jake presses his chest flush to the woman’s back to get better access to her sweet folds.

“Can I make you feel good, sweet girl? Can I get you ready for Bradley? I think he wants to feel you today, your tightness…” She leans her head on the broad chest behind her and closes her eyes as she feels Jake’s fingers stroking over her aroused folds. Her heart nearly stops when she suddenly feels Bradley’s mouth sucking her right nipple, his mustache scraping over her breast sends electricity through her body.

“You’re already so wet, baby.” The blonde aviator whispers into the woman’s ear as he teases her wet entrance. Without warning he inserts two fingers into y/n’s tight pussy. Her knees buckle at the intense feeling. Fortunately his other arm has a strong hold on her upper body and prevents her from tumbling down. To steady herself y/n reaches out and grabs the bulging biceps of the man in front of her, her nails digging into his flesh. Bradley enjoys the view of Jake fingering their girlfriend. With her eyes still closed she clearly savors the feeling of the blonde aviator’s fingers inside her.

“Jaaake…” Y/n shouts, her voice echoing in the big master bathroom. Jake takes her cry of pleasure as a confirmation to go a bit faster, his pointer and middle finger stretching her tight entrance further his thumb slowly rubbing circles over her swollen clit.

“You want to feel Bradley’s cock inside of you, baby? Look at him, how he enjoys your sexy view. Open your eyes, baby. Let him see your beautiful eyes.”

Y/n opens her eyes to see the brunette aviator pumping his raging cock, looking directly into her eyes. He bends down and captures her upper lip, softly sucking and biting it before his tongue requests entrance. They kiss grows passionately as Jake’s fingers still plunging into her soft folds, hitting her G-Spot occasionally. He feels her tighten and clenching around his fingers but before she has the chance to come on his digits he stops his actions. She was so close but he stops, her eyes fly open, her ass bumping into his crotch out of frustration.

“Nah nah nah, baby. I want you to come on Rooster’s cock. You ready to feel him?” Jake teasingly says, clearly pleased with y/n’s desperate reaction.

“Please, Bradley. I need you…” She grabs his cock in a firm painful hold, showing him how badly she needs him right now.

“So needy our girl. Come on, princess. Let me feel you. Want to feel how wet you are for me.” Bradly cups her ass with his hands and gives her the go to jump up on him. Jake supports her from behind and helps the smaller woman to hop onto the taller aviator in front of her. She locks her legs around Rooster’s hips, feeling his hard cock poking her lower belly. When he’s sure that she’s not in danger to fall down, he releases one hand from under her bum and grabs his big cock and slowly rubs the head up and down y/n’s aroused sex. She starts to rock back and forth, desperate to feel his member inside of her.

“Easy girl. We don’t want you to get hurt.” Jake tries to calm her down when he tightens his grip on her hips to steady her a bit more, afraid she would fall down with her rocking.

Bradley teases her entrance with the swollen head of his member and turns them both around so that her back is now at one of the tiled shower walls. When the cold tiles touch her back she lets out a squeal which turns instantly into a long moan when Bradley finally sinks into her. He gives her some time to adjust to his size. Her head falls onto his shoulder her mouth agape when small whimpers leaving her wet lips.

Jake takes a step forward to be nearer to his both partners, his painfully hard cock in one of his hands.

“Bradley, more. Please more.” She instructs between moans and whimpers. She wants to feel him completely inside her, like she felt Jake days ago. Rooster tightens his grip on her hips once more as he lets himself sink deeper into the woman in front of him. His eyes squeeze shut unable to hold the whine that leaves his throat. Warm water runs down his muscular back but all he can feel is the sensation of y/n clenching around his member. She feels so warm and tight and her small moans are driving him wild. He starts to thrust in a slow and steady rhythm, feeling Jake beside him stroking his back. Y/n’s legs tighten around him as he finds the right angle to thrust into her.

“You’re so big. Oh my God, please Bradley right there.” Y/n sputters as the brunette aviator hits the sensitive spot inside her. The cold tiles on her back with the warm water coming out of the shower head and the strong thrusts from Bradley are creating a mixture of explosive feelings. Her body starts to shudder and she gently bites into Bradley’s shoulder.

Jake sneaks one hand between both his partners and starts to fondle with y/n’s breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples with his fingers. His other hand furiously fisting his cock.

“Fuck y/n. You’re taking me so good. Oh Jesus…” Bradley picks up the pace, the sight of the young woman so aroused and nearly able to speak and his partner beside him stroking his cock and playing with the young woman’s sensitive nipples makes him feral.

“You look so sexy, y/n. I want so see you come, I want to see both of you come. Come for me.” Jake moans as his hand release y/n’s nipples, just to wander further down to touch her sensitive clit.

Her moans growing louder and she tries to bounce faster on Bradley’s cock. Over and over he hits her sweet spot, chasing his own orgasm relentlessly, but restrains himself a bit more. He wants to come with her, feeling her clenching on his cock, milking him while she shatters from her orgasm.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop Bradley.” Y/n shouts as she feels her own orgasm not too far away. Her back arches away from the cold tiles when she starts to shudder. Her hips buck at the sensation of Bradley’s huge member inside of her and Jake’s hand circling her clit. She feels so full and stimulated. Bradley feels her clenching on him more, biting his shoulder so hard he’s sure it will leave a mark. But he doesn’t care, the only thing he wants is to make their girl feel good.

Y/n sees stars she feels the tight knot in her stomach exploding. Her vision grows white when the earth shattering orgasm hits her. She feels Bradley pumping into her, feeling his member switch his whole body shuddering but never loosen his grip on her hips. Jake comes with them, hitting Bradley’s thigh with his hot cum. He stops the gente circling around y/n’s clit as to not overstimulate her further.

Bradley nearly can’t catch his breath as he slowly comes down from his high. His heart is beating so fast in his chest like if he had run a marathon. He feels the body of the woman in his arms go limp and with the help of Jake he sets her down on her feet. Her knees buckle and he cradles her small shaking body in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

Jake turns off the water which is already cold by now and hurries out of the shower to get towels for him and his partners but especially for y/n who seems to be out of it once more.

When he comes back, having a big fluffy towel in store, he sees his partner still cradling and holding up the limp body of the smaller woman.

“Let’s wrap her up in the towel and lay her down in your bed.” Bradley suggests a bit concerned that she once again is not really responsive.

---

Y/n’s eyes slowly flutter open as she feels herself being carried out of the bathroom. “Roo-y?”

“Hey, princess. You’re okay. Let’s rest a bit in Jakey’s bed okay? You fainted on us again.”

Bradley gently places her body on the soft mattress of the blonde pilot’s bed. When she feels the mattress dips beside her she instantly snuggles into the man laying down next to her.

“That’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry…” She hides her face in Bradley’s chest.

“Hey, look at me.” He tilts her head to look her in the eyes. “That’s not embarrassing. We’re just concerned when you pass out on us. Maybe we’re too eager, too intense or rough with you, I don’t know…”

“No, please… It was so earth shattering, so good like the first time. You two make me feel so good. Please never stop to make feel this way…” Y/n kisses the brunette pilot to make sure he knows how good she feels after having sex with them.

@djs8891

@megalony

@darksparklesficrecs

#hangman x reader #rooster x reader #tgm #new writer #jake seresin x reader #top gun fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #top gun

23 notes · View notes