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mamsieur · 6 months

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Ink and Smoke I Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary : Reuben's wife wants to play matchmakers with Bob. It usually fails until the whole squad has a tattoo appointment.

TW : none, full fluff, hyper self indulgent

Length : 3664 words

AN : maybe it's kind of a self insert fic because of the whole "reader is a tattooed girly" and maybe the bee tattoo is the one I have. Maybe.

posted on AO3 November 8, 2023

A few months had passed since the uranium mission and the squadron was settled to San Diego for good, and Bob had never been happier. He finally had everything and everyone he needed in one place. The squad was a new family for him, he grew close to each of them, even Jake.

Work was easier now that he was permanently stationed here, and he was glad that the squadron was a permanent unit as well ; they were always working together and getting missions as a special task force. He was able to teach new graduates with Phoenix, and he enjoyed being an instructor.

Life was good. His little found family fell into an easy routine of Sunday brunches at each other's houses, days off at the beach playing dogfight football, evenings at the Hard Deck. Each of them got to meet the family of the others ; mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners… Reuben was the first to introduce his wife, Josie, to the squadron and everyone loved her. They were expecting their first child and Mickey had appointed himself as godfather (not that Reuben had anything against it, but he had to talk it over with his wife). Josie had some sort of maternal aura that made them so comfortable, much like Penny ; even Bradley opened up to her about his past, and Jake always seemed to calm down when the pregnant woman gave him the "mommy" look.

As for his own love life, Bob’s friends had tried so many times to set him up on dates, and each time it had failed. The girls he was set up with had nothing to do with it for the most part ; Bob was sure they were great people, but they were always too much for him. He was a discreet and somewhat shy type of guy, he wasn't really comfortable with their extroverted behavior. And it wasn't like he was actively looking for a relationship; he liked being single most of the time. He had his ways, his habits, his comfort zone, and he wasn't in any hurry to leave it. His life was perfect as he saw it. But he couldn't deny that sometimes he felt lonely. He felt that way when he couldn't go home to his family, when he was on leave from work, or when he was asked to write his marital status on some paperwork. He felt that way when he listened to Natasha talk about her dates with her pretty hairdresser and how everything was going smoothly. He felt that way when he saw the girls at the bar only looking at Bradley, Javy, Jake or Mickey; he was right there but invisible. He felt that way when he was the last of his siblings and cousins to be single; his younger brother even got married this year. He felt that way when his father seemed to have to remind him that his last relationship was from before he left for naval school, and when his mother whined about her baby being all alone in San Diego.

Other than that, Bob didn't feel lonely. Not too much.

When he arrived at the Hard Deck after another failed date, Josie sighed with a confused pout.

"Why didn't it work out this time, Bobby?"

He shrugged as he sat between her and Natasha on the stool across from the pool table where Jake and Bradley were playing. "She's just passing through San Diego and she... I don't know, she talked a lot about herself, I didn't have time to get a word in. And when I did, she didn't seem too interested in what I had to say."

"Yickes," Natasha grimaced, "you did well to leave that date early."

"Oh, well, in fact, I didn't... She actually was the one who cut it short, she had to meet a friend apparently. Not that I'm complaining," he smiled slightly at the girls, and Reuben’s wife rolled her eyes before finishing her ginger ale, rubbing her round belly.

"I give up, Bob. You'll find someone eventually, but I'm done trying to set you up. I hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?" he frowned a little, not understanding.

"Like a puppy that's been thrown out," Reuben said as he kissed his wife's temple, joining their conversation. She rolled her eyes, half amused. "That's the idea. You always look so disappointed and sad after these dates. And I know it makes you question your self-worth, and I don't want that. So we won't set you up anymore, consider this my early birthday present to you," she smiled.

"Finally - Ouch!" he chuckled, stroking his side where Josie had elbowed him. She sighed with a smile and they moved on to more casual conversation. It was another casual night, and Bob was loving it. The brunette was right, he'll find someone eventually, why force fate?

As the night went on, one particular topic was brought back to the table; their matching tattoo project. The seven of them still hadn't decided what to get, but Reuben had already made an appointment with a tattoo artist that he and Josie had been to a few times; she had four tattoos, and three of them were by that artist. It was fine line, discreet; that style was perfect for the squad.

"So, except for Reuben, this will be everyone's first tattoo?" Mickey asked, reading everyone's ideas again on Javy's phone. They all nodded and Natasha scoffed.

"Robert Floyd, stop lying to us! You have a tattoo!"

Bob blushed under the curious gaze of his friends, and if his eyes could throw knives, Phoenix would be dead.

"Come to think of it, we've never seen him without a shirt on," Mickey remarked, narrowing his eyes. The other boys agreed and Jake grinned.

"What kind of embarrassing ink you got Baby on board?"

"If it's the name of an ex-girlfriend, I swear we'll ask for the whole story!" Javy insisted. Everyone tried to guess, making Bob more and more embarrassed and Natasha smirked, proud of her. She saw his tattoo once, after a water fight.

"Come on Robby, show them, it's not that bad..." she encouraged him, gently squeezing his forearm. The blond man pouted and sighed, pulling out his phone to find photos. He showed the screen to his friends when he found the picture he was looking for. The tattoo was on his ribs and it was a quote with a carnation flower underneath. Mickey couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he read the quote, his eyes shining with admiration, "Is that a Star Wars reference?"

"It is..." Bob muttered, "And my older cousin has the other half of the quote."

He swiped and showed them a picture of their tattoos side by side; his cousin’s said "Do or do not." with the flower above it, and Bob’s one said "There is no try."

"Nerd," Jake snorted, earning a nudge from Reuben.

"In our defense, we were barely eighteen when we made them, just before I went to naval school," he shrugged.

"I think it's cute," Josie smiled and Bradley hummed in agreement, siping his beer.

"How come you never told me you were Star Wars fans?" Mickey accused, "What do you think of the series? Without the last three movies, of course. They don't exist," and he chatted with Bob for a good half hour.

Bradley cleared his throat to stop the rumbling, "Can we get back to the tattoo topic? We have less than fifteen hours to decide".

After some discussion and a few scribbles of their ideas on some napkins, they settled on three designs that the tattoo artist would be able to work with.

Bob carefully saved the napkins, and one by one the group went home. He decided to take a walk on the beach before he left.

He liked the silence, broken only by the gentle sounds of the waves and the wind. His week had been exhausting and quite stressful, and being here soothed him. The moonlight guided his steps home. As he made his way to his little house, he lit a cigarette. He was not much of a smoker, but every now and then it helped calm his nerves. Truth to be told, he was a little nervous to get tattooed. He wasn’t a big fan of needles. He just hoped that the final design would be simple enough so he didn’t have to stay too long under the hands and tools of the tattoo artist.

The next day, after a nice lunch together, the group finally went to the tattoo parlor. Josie was with them, even more excited than they were. They walked in, making the little bell above the door ring. Soft rock was playing at a low volume, and some of the artist's work was hanging on the walls.

Bob looked around curiously. This parlor was nothing like the one he'd been in with his cousin almost twelve years before. Here, the large windows let in daylight, and the reception and waiting areas were beautifully decorated with green plants (though Bob suspected they were fake). On the coffee table across from the couches was a binder containing the flashes that were still available. And on the walls were photos of several finished tattoos and some awards the artist seemed to have won at conventions around the country. The whole atmosphere was comfortable and reassuring.

"I'll be there in two seconds!" your voice came from the back of the room.

The curtain at the back of the shop opened and you stepped out, dusting your hands. Your arms were covered with tattoos of all kinds; some colored, some not. Bob watched you for a moment, impressed by the number of tattoos you had. His eye fell on the one under and on your collarbones; two daffodils with a bee in the middle. He found it gorgeous.

He was jolted out of his contemplation when Josie threw herself in your arms.

"Bee! It's so good to see you!"

"Hello to you too, Jo’ !" you chuckled, returning her hug, "I assume this is the famous Dagger Squad you've been talking about."

You gave them your real name with a smile and shook hands with everyone, "You can call me Bee though, it doesn't bother me!". Your eyes locked with Bob's for a few seconds and he thought he saw you blushing a little. But maybe he had hallucinated.

You offered them some tea or coffee while grabbing your sketchbook and pen. "Okay, so what were your ideas? Jo’ and Reuben here told me you had quite a few," you asked with a smile, and the group began to explain what they had in mind. Bob, sitting in front of you, wasn't listening. He was mesmerized ; you had such a sweet voice and a warm, inviting aura. Your eyes shone with interest behind your glasses as you took notes on what Bob's friends were saying. Your soft smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears blush whenever he made eye contact with you.

He was drawn out of his contemplation by Bradley, who nudged him discreetly. You had asked him something, but he didn't seem to have heard.

"Sorry, what?"

"Your friends said you had some papers with your ideas. May I see them?" you chuckled with a sweet smile.

"Oh... Oh! The napkins, yes!" he mumbled and took them out of his pocket. He displayed them on the coffee table in front of you. He blushed as your fingers brushed over his, and Josie and Natasha noticed. They looked at each other and wiggled their eyebrows. An idea had blossomed in their minds…

***

A few sketches later, you had a design that everyone in the group loved. It was simple enough that you could make the seven of them that afternoon. While you were getting everything ready, the Daggers argued about who would go after Reuben, who volunteered to go first. But Bob seemed a little lost and couldn't say anything. Josie sighed and intervened, hands on hips, like a mother scolding her children.

"Okay, everybody, calm down. Jake will go second, Mickey third and then Javy."

"But why?" Jake gasped and Mickey pouted.

"Because you three are too afraid, I can feel it. Look at it this way: the sooner you get it done, the sooner it's over."

"Good thinking..." Javy muttered.

"Thank you. Then Natasha, Bradley, and finally Bob. As soon as you're done, go to the little store next door and get yourself a snack, okay?"

The five nodded like children, but Natasha had a little mischievous smile on her lips that matched Josie's. But the boys, except for Reuben, didn't seem to notice. The latter gave his wife a knowing look and shook his head with a smile when she just shrugged.

Bob wasn't sure what to do. He looked at you a few times as you finished cleaning Reuben’s finished tattoo. You laughed with him and Bob blushed. He'd never seen anyone laugh so beautifully. His heart raced a little, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were mesmerizing, a work of art.

"... Bob?"

"Huh?" he hummed, still lost in contemplation.

"Bobby, stop staring, you're not discreet," Josie giggled and Bob blushed wildly. He looked around and to his relief the others didn't seem to be paying too much attention to him. "You know, Bee is single... you should ask her out. You're totally her type."

"Am I?" he mumbled, blushing as Nat and Josie giggled, "I-I mean, I, uh… she’s-" Bob stuttered. He was busted. Natasha wrapped her arm around his and looked at you.

"From what Josie and Reuben have told me, Bee is really sweet," she said.

"She loves sci-fi, has two cats, builds Legos, and she absolutely loves quiet walks on the beach, just like you," Josie informed him with a smile, and Bob's cheeks turned even redder. He watched as you reassured Jake and explained how the machine worked. Your smile definitely made Bob's heart flutter. He wanted it to be directed at him. Not at Jake who was certainly flirting with you… although you didn’t seem that affected by it.

"She's a great girl, Bobby, and yes, I said I'd stop to set you up, but this isn't technically a date. It's up to you if you want to ask her out," Josie argued and he nodded, playing nervously with his fingers.

"I... I'll try?" he murmured, clearly worried about the situation, "but what if you're wrong and I'm not her type? Or what if I make it all awkward? or what if-"

"Calm down Floyd, it'll be fine! She won't reject you like that. Look at her, she's too nice for that. You have the whole afternoon to relax and just be yourself with her. We'll keep the others out," Natasha smiled as she gave him a friendly nudge. He sighed and nodded, trying to keep his composure. But then he frowned and turned to the two women beside him. "That's why you wanted me to go last?"

They just chuckled and shrugged. Bob sighed again and shook his head, "You two are a menace," he groaned.

As the afternoon wore on, Bob had to go out twice to catch his breath. He tried not to smoke right now, but the urge got stronger as his turn to get tattooed approached. He watched you laugh with Bradley as you tattooed him on the inside of his bicep. Then Bradley pointed at Bob and said something to you. You smiled a little and waved to him. He blushed so hard he thought his whole face was on fire. He shyly waved back and thought he saw you blush again. But you quickly turned your attention back to Bradley.

Bob's heart was pounding, he was filling up like a 10-year-old facing his first crush.

And finally it was his turn. Josie and Natasha managed to get everyone out by pretending to go shopping for dinner - which wasn't exactly a lie. Bob was worriedly silent as you cleaned your station. You turned to him and smiled.

"Would you like something to drink while I finish preparing the area? I have some ginger ale, Reuben told me you usually like it?"

Bob just nodded, speechless. How can you be so thoughtful?

He thanked you as you handed him the glass and watched you print the last stencil.

"Nervous?" you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze, "Where do you want it?"

"Y-Yeah, a little bit," he swallowed and scratched his neck nervously, "I, uh... maybe here?" he gestured to his ribs, the side that had no tattoos.

"Josie told me you already had a tattoo, right? Do you want them mirrored, like symmetrical?" you asked as he took off his shirt. You blushed. This man was really, really beautiful. His friends were too, you'd seen Jake and Mickey shirtless, but Bob... Bob had this charming boyish face and a body that you could see yourself curling up against in your bed for a cuddle in rainy weather. He had that old American charm with his wire-rimmed glasses, that little curl of hair that fell perfectly on his forehead, and that shy smile. You wanted him to take you out on a date anywhere he wanted and listen to his surprisingly raspy voice talk about absolutely anything... but you had to be professional.

"Yes," he replied, "I think it could be quite harmonious..."

"I think so too," you smiled at him and prepared his skin before placing the stencil. You let him check to see if he liked the placement. He turned to you and his crooked smile made you feel all warm inside. He was absolutely adorable.

"I love it," he said, excited like a little boy on Christmas Eve, "it looks amazing!"

"Well, let's get to work then, Lieutenant!" you chuckled and let him lie down. You put on your gloves and turned on the machine. You saw him take a deep breath and exhale slowly; surely to calm his nerves. "Ready?" you asked quietly and he nodded.

He didn't flinch or move once during the session. You saw him grimace from time to time, but he was perfectly still. You tried to talk to him to ease the process without pushing him too hard, and to your own surprise, he was quite talkative. The two of you debated which was the best Lego set you owned - it was obviously the Millenium Falcon. He really made you laugh when he explained how Bradley accidentally broke his glasses and how Josie scolded them for being reckless while playing soccer on the beach. And you both agreed that Reuben and Josie would make great parents. He walked you outside when you said you needed a smoke break.

"I don't smoke that much, I'm trying to quit," you shrugged, "but some days are harder than others."

"Yeah, I get it, I'm not a heavy smoker either, but it helps... relax, I guess," he said, lighting your cigarette and then his. You smiled and agreed. In the distance, the sun was slowly setting, casting orange and pink hues in the sky. Bob blew his smoke slowly through his nose and sighed.

"I love sunsets," he said, "it's always a different color show..."

"I'm sure it's nicer when you're actually in the sky, isn't it?"

"Oh yes it is!" he replied excitedly, "Sometimes with the clouds it's like being surrounded by cotton candy. It's so pretty, but it makes me hungry."

You laughed and his smile grew wider.

"So you have a sweet tooth?"

"The worst," he sighed with a soft grin, "I think I might be addicted to sugar. I mean, we all are a little, but sweet things are my weakness."

The way he looked at you when he said that made you blush furiously. And he blushed too, surprised at his own behavior. But you didn't seem bothered, so he wasn't embarrassed. You bit your lip and sighed with a smile before looking back at him.

"So if I asked you to come with me to the fair and eat our body weight in candy and cake on Sunday, would you agree?"

"Yes," he blushed, surprised at his own eagerness to accept your proposition. He chuckled and nodded, "I would gladly agree."

"It's a date then..." you smiled and exchanged numbers. Then you resumed your conversation about whatever was on your minds. Bob had never felt so comfortable with anyone, and neither had you. Unfortunately, the rest of the Daggers made their way back to your shop to pay you for the tattoos and take some pictures of them. They were all happy with the results and Mickey promised to come back for more. Bob couldn't stop smiling and looking at you as if you were holding the stars, and neither could you. You said goodbye to everyone, hugged Reuben and Josie - asking their growing baby in her belly to behave - and kissed Bob on the cheek when he last existed. You had to stand on tiptoe to do it, which he found adorable.

"See you Sunday, Bob," you almost whispered.

"Gladly Bee, can't wait," he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You waved him goodbye and he felt all light and happy on his way to his car.

The rest of the group was completely forgotten, but they were watching from a distance. They were surprised and so lost by what they had just witnessed, except for Nat and Josie who were really proud of their part in it. They discreetly high-fived and giggled.

"What did you do?" Reuben finally asked his wife, curious.

"Me? Nothing," she smiled at him before looking at Bob, who didn't stop smiling. She took her husband's hand on the way to their car and chuckled, "I just encouraged fate."

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #tattoos #natasha trace #jake seresin #javy machado #mickey garcia #bradley bradshaw #reuben fitch #original character #bob floyd imagine

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vicsnook · 7 months

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Backseat Lovin’ | Bob Floyd x Reader

word count: 1544

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI 18+, Drinking

notes: Hi y’all! I’ve been back on my Bob quick lately after seeing the promo for lessons of chemistry so here’s a little something something 😏. Hope y’all enjoy & don’t forget to like/reblog. Got some Rhett fics coming soon btw!

Bob was sitting in the sand reading a book while the squad played a game of dogfight football when you spot him. His brows furrowed as he read, making you chuckle which made him look at you and give you a small wave before returning to his book. You blushed at having been caught staring but waved back. For months you’ve been dropping hints that you like Bob but he seemed oblivious to it. Penny called you back in from your break so you snuck one more glance at the clueless WSO and headed back in.

The A/C did little to cool the heat as you washed off some glasses at the bar. Thankfully you’d worn a tank top today but were not enjoying the extra attention that came with that. “What can I get ya?” you asked Bob, who had just taken a seat in front of you.

“I’ll take a beer.”

Since you met Bob, he always ordered a lemonade and despite the insistence of Hangman and Rooster, he’d never drank alcohol. You set down the now dry glass and look up at him, arching an eyebrow in question. He gave you a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulders in response. You could feel him eyeing you as you reached for the bottle opener.

6 beers later Bob’s half-smile was replaced by a mischievous grin. He went to ask you for another beer but was cut short by Hangman whose hand he noticed lingered way longer than it needed to when you handed him a drink. As he stood up to go to the restroom, the alcohol rushed to his head, making him stumble and nearly trip over a stool.

“Hey Bob, you alright?” You ask him, watching as he waves you off and continues to stumble until he finally makes it to the restroom. “I wonder what’s gotten into him.” You murmur to Hangman who was still looking in the direction Bob went.

Hangman turned back to you, giving you one of his know it all looks and his million dollar smile that you hated before saying, “He’s just trying to work up the courage to ask you out, y/n.” You stood there stunned, as Hangman chuckled and walked away. Maybe all the hints you’d dropped finally would pay off tonight.

Half an hour later, you noticed Bob still wasn’t back from the restroom so you flagged down Penny and went on your break to check on Bob. Knocking on the men’s bathroom door, no sound came from the other side, so you turn the knob and it was luckily unlocked.

“Bob?”

He was sitting on the floor leaning against a stall nearly passed out. When shaking him, he looks up at you and reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” the tip of his ears turn pink at the admission as you help him up to his feet. “Why didn’t you?”

“Too chicken.” He drank the glasses of water you passed him throughout the rest of the night without complaint, sobering up slowly. If you learned one thing about him tonight was that he was a lightweight.

Everyone was almost gone by now except the dagger squad who were still playing pool. You finished wiping all the tables down and turned around to put up chairs when you noticed Bob was already halfway through doing so. He smiled at you when you caught his eye and continued until it was all done.

“I’ll stay guys, gotta walk Y/N to her car,” Bob told the group after you’d cash them out. It wasn't the first time he stayed behind to walk you to your car but today you were more nervous than usual as he followed you out and watched you lock the back door.

Your words caught in your throat as you turned around to find Bob right in front of you. His eyes looked down to your lips and before you could say anything his lips were latching onto yours. He kisses you softly at first but then it turns desperate and you have to hold onto him to not lose your balance. He pulls you closer to him as you run your fingers through his hair and a moan escapes your lips as you feel his growing bulge against your thigh.

You manage to slide your hand between your bodies, cupping him through his pants. That action alone has him pushing you against the back door and dipping his head to kiss your neck. “Follow me to the truck,” he whispers in your ear.

His truck was parked on the side of the Hard Deck which was not illuminated and was the perfect private spot since it couldn’t be seen from the road. You take his hand and climb into the back seat closing the door behind you. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you respond by straddling his lap.

His hands grip your ass as you grind against him. “I need to hear you say it honey.” He whispers, kissing your jaw softly. “Yes,” you respond, tilting your head as he trails kisses down your neck and you’re almost certain you’ve soaked through your shorts as he continues to rub against your clit with his bulge.

He slides his hands under your shirt and kneads your breasts and you want him even more now. “Bob I want you,” you manage to say and he’s kissing you rougher now, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away to lift you off his lap so you can slide off your shorts.

He sets you back down on his clothed bulge and rocks you back and forth even harder than before. “Good girl,” he whispers in your ear as you match his pace and feel yourself getting closer. Your grip on his hair tightens and he presses you down against him even more. But it’s when kisses than one spot of your neck though that you are pushed over the edge.

He holds you close as you ride out your orgasm and is careful setting you onto the seat beside him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. You blush at the soaked spot in the front. His cock springs free and you feel a shiver go down your spine at the sight of it. You’d heard the rumors that he was well endowed but didn’t know until know how much truth that held.

He ripped open the condom and slid it on then reached out to help you position yourself over him. The tip of his cock pressed at your entrance and you slowly slid on to it, moaning at the feeling of it stretching you open. His breathing was heavy as he tried not to buck up into you.

You set a slow pace, moving up and down as he holds on to your hips and his lips catch yours. The tip of his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly and you throw your head back in pleasure. He wraps his arms around you and begins to thrust up into you sharply. Your nails dig into his back and you try to keep up with his pace but as you feel your high coming, you increase the pace.

Your moans fill the car and he feels you clench around him. He kisses along neck and collarbones, anything he can get his lips on as you move faster. “I’m so close,” you wail as he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Cum for me baby,” he commands, circling your clit faster as you ride him erratically. Your legs start to shake as you reach your high and he continues thrusting into you through your orgasm. You pulse around his cock and he reaches his high too, pulling you closer to his chest as he comes.

Both of you are out panting, as he slowly pulls you off him and you settle in the seat beside him. He takes off the condom and carefully pulls his pants back up, running outside quickly to dispose of it. He gets a pack of wipes from the front console once he’s back and cleans you up, kissing the side of your thigh as he slides your underwear and shorts back on. You smile lazily at him and take his outstretched hand, your legs wobbling when they hit the asphalt.

He pulls you close to him and gives you a soft kiss and he knows at that moment that he wants this not once but for the rest of his life. You lay your head on his chest and smile, hoping this leads to more. “Can I drive you home? I can bring you tomorrow to get your car,” he asks and you nod happily.

As you reach your house, you’ve made up your mind so when he walks you to the door, you pull him inside your house with you. He follows with no hesitation and kicks off his jeans, joining you to cuddle in bed. “Can I take you out tomorrow?” he mumbles sleepily, kissing the top of your head. “Absolutely.” You reply, drifting off to sleep happily in the arms of Bob Floyd.

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd smut

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thedroneranger · 9 months

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Tip of the Cap (Bradley's Version)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Synopsis: Bradley rarely covers up his sun-kissed curls, but the one time he does...

Note: Tip of the Cap, started as a Bradley Bradshaw fic 😱 Struggling to finish it, I swapped the main interest to Jake and BOOM! it came together. However, the challenge of seeing through a Bradley version has been heavy on my mind, so I give you Tip of the Cap (Bradley's Version). Let me know your thoughts!

This one is for my Bradshaw Baddies™, in particular, @roosterforme and @cherrycola27—enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.0k

That. Fucking. Hat.

You leaned your palms on the edge of the dresser as you thought about Bradley trotting around in denim cutoffs and his backward baseball cap. Rarely did he cover up his sun-kissed curls, but today, at the annual squadron beach party, Bradley had chosen to don a well-worn UVA baseball cap.

And he looked good.

A smile pulled your lips as you thought about Bradley’s cheeky grin while he backpedaled on the hard-packed sand, watching the play he just called unfold. The little curl trying to escape his cap through the adjustment strap hole had you shaking your head in disbelief.

Lost in thought, you hardly reacted as he sidled up behind you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you. His hands wandered down the beach cover-up you were still wearing, pulling your body against his.

You made eye contact in the mirror that ran the length of your dresser as he sucked on your neck. The moan that escaped you made him smile as he continued to leave hot kisses down to your collarbone. Then he nipped the spot where your shoulder met your neck and you purred. You reached back to rake your fingers through his curls, and instead, your fingers met the taught fabric of his hat. A pout overtook your lips as your nails scratched against his hat.

Bradley ghosted his mustache along your jawline. Planting a kiss on the hinge, he snagged his cap by the bill and placed it on your head. Too big, it fell over your face. As you adjusted it, he kept peppering your shoulder with kisses. By the time you got his cap adjusted, Bradley was done teasing you and strolling to the ensuite bathroom. The muscles in his back subtly shifted and his shorts moved just enough you could see the defined tan line low on his hips. His lower back dimples taunted you.

With a sigh, you turned back to the mirror and shared a frown with your reflection. Your lower lip rolled between your teeth as you thought. Standing to your full height, you placed his hat on the dresser, and then slipped your beach cover-up over your head.

When you got dressed that morning, you had picked a modest swimsuit, knowing the beach party was a work event. However, it didn’t hurt that the suit was also one of Bradley’s favorites.

All day long, you taunted him whenever an opportunity arose. A number of times, you wiggled in his lap, grazed your chest against his, or bumped into his crotch. Each time, you knew he was doing his best to keep his reactions PG-13 in front of his colleagues.

On the ride home, Bradley couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You did your best to seem unfazed as the calloused pad of his thumb stroked the soft skin of your inner thigh. Every so often, his thumb would sneak into the baggy leg hole of your cutoffs and would innocently graze the crotch of your bathing suit. Payback for your earlier behavior.

Goosebumps hatched on your arms as your thoughts wandered back to Bradley quarterbacking the dogfight football game. Listening to him bark out plays and yell at his teammates to get into position. Even thinking about him pushing his Caravans up his nose had you lusting.

And that damn hat. His answer to your warning about making sure he wore enough sunscreen to remain a golden marshmallow instead of morphing into a boiled lobster.

Bradley started the day with his hat forward, the bill shielding his eyes along with his sunglasses. The minute he and his fellow pilots divvied into teams for football, he cocked it backward. A couple drives into the game, he ran for a touchdown. Successful, he scanned the beach and locked eyes with you. Bradley gave you a beaming smile and tipped his cap. Instantly, heat pooled between your thighs.

That heat was pooling again as you thought about his taut muscles, raspy voice, mustache and that fucking UVA baseball cap.

Then it hit you.

One more look toward the bathroom door, the water was still running, you hustled to the closet. Both pieces of your bathing suit fell to the floor as you crossed the room. Once in the closet, you thumbed through until you found what you wanted—his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

You shrugged on the garment and buttoned it as you walked toward the bed. One of the last times you wore this shirt, you and your best friend took some polaroids that you tucked into Bradley’s duffle before he deployed a few days later. Once he found the photos, his only request was for you to model it next time you were together. Bradley nearly fucked you on the hood of the Bronco when you picked him up wearing the shirt tucked and tied so it look like an off-the-rack top.

Just as you were climbing onto the bed, you spied his ball cap on the dresser. Bradley was still in the bathroom, so you grabbed the hat and ran back to the bed. Nestled among the pillows, you arranged yourself with your head resting in the crook of your elbow. With your free hand, you adjusted the hat one more time and waited.

Finally, Bradley emerged. A towel slung low on his hips, he darted toward the closet. However, he did a double take and changed course when he saw you. “What is this?” He stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes locked on you.

You unbuttoned the shirt and had the thinnest sliver of skin showing. Your fingers trailed the valley between your breasts, down your stomach and stopped at your pubic mound. Bradley’s eyes tracked your fingers as they teased your cleft.

“Teasing you until I get what I want,” you said matter of factly, keeping eye contact with him.

Bradley’s lips quirked, trying to restrain a smirk. He unfolded his arms, placed a knee on the bed and climbed so he was hovering over you. He supported himself with a hand on either side of your head and his knee slotted between your thighs as you looked at each other. “Sweetheart, you pretend like you haven’t been teasing me all day,” he said.

“Did I?” You cocked an eyebrow, and then looked between the two of you as you dragged an index finger down his chest, his abs, and then dipped it into the roll of his towel. “Enlighten me.” You met his gaze while you tugged on the terrycloth, causing it to fall open.

His mustache shifted as his smirk bloomed. Bradley kept your gaze as he gently parted his shirt, letting his fingers ghost your skin until you were fully exposed. His head dropped to your chest, kissing and sucking each nipple until they peaked, and then trailed kisses down your stomach.

“The little black number you wore.” His tongue flicked into your belly button. “Every time you came in contact with me at the party.” Bradley pressed a kiss just below your navel. “Every graze. Every nudge. Every time you ‘settled’ into my lap.” He continued to let his lips brush against your skin.

Pleased with your reactions, Bradley sat back on his knees, pushing his towel on the floor and stroking himself until he was completely hard.

You watched him with hooded eyes. A whine escaped you as you let two fingers sink into your folds. Dipping into your wetness, you spread it around your lower lips as you watched Bradley.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He moved to push his thighs underneath yours and rest himself against your core. Gently grabbing your wrist, he pulled your fingers from your heat. You held your breath as you watched him guide your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the pads before pushing them into his mouth. Yours fell open a little as his tongue swirled around your digits. His cheeks hollowed as he slowly pulled out your fingers with a soft pop.

Your eyes were locked on him, awaiting his next move. Bradley adjusted his grip to hold your palm face up. You watched as his saliva pooled on it. Using his tongue, he spread his spit around your palm and then positioned it around his cock. Loosely, you gripped him and lazily slid your hand up and down.

He sighed and ran his hands along your thighs as you continued to stroke him. As you got into a rhythm, he thrusted into your touch. “And now, you’re wearing my shirt,” he revived the conversation.

“What?!” You feigned surprise, sitting up and forgetting about him to grab at the fabric around you. “This is yours?!” You held a fistful of fabric in his direction. Bradley couldn’t help but continue to smirk as he leaned toward you.

Focused on him, you only remembered his baseball cap was perched on your head when his eyes floated to the bill—the only thing standing between your lips and his. Suddenly, the ball cap was resting backward on his half-dry curls and his body rolled over yours, pushing you flat into the bed. A hand on either side of your head, his thighs pushed yours wider as his lips and mustache glided along your neck and collarbone.

“My shirt. My hat.” Bradley said between kisses. “My pussy.” His teeth sank into your neck at the same time as he seated himself inside you. An rapturous moan left your lips, and your hands flew up to his shoulders, nails digging in. You snarled at each other—teeth sinking deeper, nails digging further.

Your breath hitched each time Bradley snapped his hips. Eyes wide, you rested your heels on the small of his back as he rutted into you. He pulled his head up to watch your expressions—you were getting louder with each thrust. He smiled.

The head of Bradley’s cock ground against the spot that made you see stars, so your eyes rolled back. “My hat, my shirt, my pussy,” he repeated like a chant. He kept hitting that spot, you could feel the warmth building in your belly. “Tonight, I’m gonna wear ‘em all at the same time.” The rasp in his voice alone nearly pushed you over the edge.

He hit that spot a few more times, sang your praises, and then you were coming. He hissed as your nails left raised pink streaks on his shoulders and down his arms. He continued to watch your face as he worked. Your eyes squeezed shut as you rode out your orgasm, clenching around Bradley as he continued to pump into you. A few soft grunts escaped him as he relished the feeling of you fluttering around him.

Your eyes flitted open to meet his hazel ones. He watched you as your hand moved from his shoulder to his jaw, and your thumb came to rest on his lower lip. Bradley pushed his lips against it a few times, matching the pace of his hips, and then his warm tongue met your thumbpad. He sucked on it before he tilted his chin to let your thumb rest there. You then ran it along his jaw as you stared at each other.

“It’s my turn, sweetheart.” Bradley gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you upright as he sat back on his haunches. You settled into his lap, still on his cock, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Bradley’s hands rested on your ass. One hand came back, and an open palm met your skin, sending a crack into the silence. You yelped and your hips canted forward. Bradley smiled as his teeth eclipsed his lower lip. His palm met your backside again, and you, again, yelped and canted forward. He spanked you a couple more times, enjoying your sounds and the forward motion of your hips.

Your ass was red, your skin hot, but you enjoyed the sting. You were so wet, you could feel your arousal running down his cock onto his balls. “You like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You’re so wet, you're getting me all wet, sweetheart.” You mewled as you leaned into him and captured his lips with yours.

Arms still secured around Bradley’s neck, you scooted back and forth to get friction against your clit. Bradley smiled into your kisses. “That’s my girl.” He matched your motions, which caused you to moan between kisses while you moved in tandem.

Before long, your micro movements weren’t enough. Bradley was wound tight and wanted long strokes to get off. His hand crept to your neck, and he gently tugged you away. You were hard pressed to break your kiss, and you demanded that Bradley stay buried inside you as you changed positions.

Before you were flat on your back, Bradley helped you take off his shirt, leaving you completely exposed. Meanwhile, he slipped the garment on and hovered over you. His gaze was smoldering, pupils blown, and his hips picking up speed with each thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he cooed. Bradley’s head lolled back for a moment. You studied his chin, neck and chest while he was blissed out. Unable to control yourself, your hand came to his lower stomach. Bradley groaned and tilted his head forward so he could see you. He watched as you ran your knuckles his happy trail. Then, your hand slipped lower until your index and middle fingers were in a V-shape around the base of his cock.

Bradley continued to thrust as you applied light pressure. Involuntarily, he groaned and you smiled. You continued to coax him toward orgasm with your fingers and pussy.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Bradley’s version of saying he was close. One hand planted beside your head, the other now on your neck. His fingers applied pressure to the sides. You wrapped your free hand around his wrist. Bradley watched you to make sure you were ok with the amount of pressure.

Bradley’s current pace had you on the path toward another orgasm. Your fingers shifted from Bradley’s cock to your clit to help make that a reality. Bradley praised you for taking care of yourself and shifted so his thighs pushed your legs wider. The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each thrust.

The moans it induced from you was enough for him to shoot you full of cum. Bradley managed to keep pace as he came so you remained on track toward your second orgasm. As you pulsed around him, he slowed to enjoy the feeling.

Your mixed cum was oozing out as he continued to thrust and you continued to milk him. Some of it smeared onto your fingers as you continued to massage your clit. You brought them to your lips to lick clean. Bradley made the most desperate sound that pleasantly surprised both of you as he watched your fingers near your mouth.

Much to his pleasure, you brought your fingers to his mouth instead. He happily accepted them. First, licking from the base to pads and then letting you slip them past his lips. He swirled his tongue around them, bobbing his head to match his languid pace. Once satisfied, he hollowed his cheeks as you pulled them out. “Mhmm.” His tongue swiped his bottom lip, hoping to catch any remnants. You laughed and leaned up to press your lips to his.

Bradley’s lips ventured to your cheek and down your neck until he was kissing your chest. You whined as he slipped out of you. You watched as he kissed down your stomach and stopped at your pubic mound. His big hands gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor, looping one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing the other as wide as the hinge of your hip allowed.

He kept eye contact with you as he kissed each of your pussy lips. And then, with a broad tongue he slowly lapped up your mess. You watched him, letting your fingers tour over rivets and seams of his hat.

Your thighs and your outer lips clean, you watched as he rested his hands on either side of your heat and gently spread your pussy. The cool air hitting you had you holding gasping. Bradley watched your face as he softly blew on your clit. You arched your back a little bit off the bed conflicted by the sensation.

Bradley started with a single stripe from your hole up to the hood of your clit. Then he dipped his tongue between your clit and your lip, repeating the maneuver on the other side. He was tender with his clean up, caressing you enough to feel good but not overstimulate.

When he stopped spreading you, he placed a final kiss on the cleft of your pussy. Then Bradley slipped out from under your legs and helped you sit up on the bed.

He stood between your knees. It was his turn to shower you in soft touches as you peppered kisses on his stomach and licked away your cum. You couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at you. His wild curl still trying to escape the adjustment strap on his hat and the open edges of his shirt fluttering slightly had you smiling. Finished with cleanup, you closed your eyes and let your chin rest against him.

“You interested in another round, sweetheart?” He asked softly. He stroked your hair and waited for your answer.

“What are you going to wear?” You teased.

A smile graced his face as he stepped away from you, heading toward the closet. “Oh, I have an idea.”

Palms supporting you, leaned back on the bed and watched as he disappeared into your walk-in. About a minute later he emerged, wearing one of his flight suits. He left the front unzipped so you had a view of his tanned chest and abs. The apex of his zipper drew your attention to where he wanted it most.

Your gaze floated back to his face. Of course, he topped off the look with his damn UVA baseball cap—wild curl included.

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#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun rooster #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #tgm fanfiction

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

Sunshine | Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

(I love this gif so much I'm not even joking)

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Wife!reader

Word count: 1010

Warnings: nothing! Pure, lovely fluff.

This was requested by @bookaholics-stuff. Thank you, honey! This was such a cute request and I just had to write it NOW. Hope you like it!

FOREVER TGM TAGLIST: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74

(if you want to be tagged, ask me!)

Mrs. Seresin was the only thing Jake didn't brag about. Don't get me wrong, it's not because he is not proud of you. Quite the opposite.

He's so damn happy to have you in his life that he wants to treasure you. Keep you to himself.

And there hasn't been a lot of time to talk about each other's lives during this mission. Phoenix wants to fix this matter, actually, suggesting all the members that a day at the beach could be a good opportunity to get to know each other.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had agreed to meet with the rest this Saturday, have something to drink at the Hard Deck, play some Dogfight football… Just a bunch of friends spending a normal day at the beach without having to worry about the safety of the planet. But that plan is thrown out the window when you, Y/n Seresin, the love of Jake’s life, ring the bell of Jake and Javy’s shared house.

“Sunshine? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Jake says, while hugging you tightly. It has only been a few weeks since the last time he saw you, but it feels like a lifetime away from you.

“Heard that my handsome hubby had chalked up another kill, saved the day and also the famous Maverick. I had to come here and celebrate!” you explain, covering his face with kisses, Jake scrunching his nose due to the pure happiness of the moment.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush, Mrs. Seresin”

“Where’s Javy?” you ask, entering the house and leaving your small suitcase in the bedroom.

“I don’t know, he said he was gonna meet Mickey and Reuben to buy something. Don’t ask me why because I can’t remember” he confesses, laughing.

“Oh my, Jake Seresin, aren't you a bit young to be forgetting things?” you joke as you lay down on the bed, tired from the flight from Austin. You had been staying with your sister-in-law and her two kids for a few days, not wanting to be alone when you found out how dangerous this mission was going to be.

“It’s your fault. Do I have to remind you how I forgot my own name when I first saw you?” he recalls, sitting in the bed next to you, his hand quickly moving to your hair, and moving some strands out of your face. “You still have that effect on me, Sunshine”

You smile, satisfaction running through your body as you realize that no matter how much time passes, Jake will always be completely and utterly in love with you. “I saw the beach while in the taxi. This place is amazing, Jake. And you are definitely sunbathing without me, huh? Look at that golden skin” you poke his cheek, making him giggle like a teenager.

Everyone saw Hangman, the aviator.

But only you were able to see Jake, the loving husband.

“Want me to take you to the beach, sunshine? We can take a bath and go for a walk.” he offers, kissing your forehead.

“I’d love to”

“Is that woman talking to Hangman?” Phoenix questions out loud while leaving the cooler that Mickey, Reuben and Javy had bought earlier to fill with drinks, in the sand.

“Maybe he is talking to the poor woman,” Fanboy suggests, moving his sunglasses down his nose to try and understand the whole situation. “Should we go rescue her?”

“She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though” Payback adds, the whole squad standing there like a bunch of sentinels, ready to jump into action if the lady needed to be liberated from the blonde cowboy.

Seconds later, Hangman is throwing the poor girl over his shoulder and walking straight to the water. “Oh god, he’s gonna get smacked,” Bob laughs, opening his blue folding chair and sitting down to enjoy the show.

“JAKE SERESIN PUT ME DOWN” you yell, trying to leave your husband’s arms, only to be thrown in the water. You stand up, your sundress now completely stuck to your body. Thank god you are wearing your swimsuit underneath. “If I didn’t vow to love you for the rest of my life I would kill you”

“Did she say ‘vow’ as in ‘wedding vow’?" Rooster asks, looking at the rest of his team. “Man, I don’t understand anything”

Javy, who had been trying to get the beach umbrella from the trunk after it got stuck, walks happily to the rest, wondering why the heck are they standing there like… well, idiots. “Guys what are you- Y/N SERESIN?”

“JAVY!” the woman, who now everyone knows it’s a Seresin, runs to Javy, almost tackling him to the ground. "I'm so glad you're okay"

"What are you guys doing here?" Questions Hangman to the group, joining his wife and his best friend.

"Dude, beach day. We told you" Fanboy looks at Hangman, wondering if the pilot really had forgotten about it or was just messing with them.

"Excuse my husband, he's having trouble remembering things lately" you tease him, earning a glare from Jake.

"Husband" mutters Bob.

"Husband?" asks Phoenix.

"Husband!" confirms Javy.

"I'm Y/N. We've been married for three years now. And no, I wasn't forced to marry him, Rooster. I know you were about to say that" you say to Bradley, leaving him shocked.

"I was gonna ask that, yes. How did you know? And how did you know I was Rooster"

"Oh, cause I'm good, Rooster. I'm really good" you retort, making Jake laugh.

"Oh no, there's two of them. We're doomed" Bob says, sitting down again.

"I'm guessing Javy was the best-man?" Javy nods at Phoenix, answering her question. "Well, Mrs. Seresin, would you like to play some Dogfight football with us?"

"I don't even know what's that but teach me, and I will play" you say, taking off the sundress and stealing Jake's sunglasses from him.

He looks at you, wondering what had he done in a past life to be this lucky. Good job, good friends, and the perfect wife. His own personal sunshine.

#top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman fluff #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman x you

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Text

up to no good

pairing- bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x female pilot!reader (callsign clutch) no use of y/n

an- my first fanfic ever! and it's just filth (lol) so 18+ minors DNI. top gun has a hold on me y'all. haven't even opened a word doc since college but the entire film basically lives rent free in my head and I had to write some obscene rooster so I could get back to functioning like a normal person. anyways *nervous sweating*

warning- seriously 18+, not beta’d, swearing, pwp (dogfight football is just an excuse for foreplay they knew what they were doing with that damn scene), unprotected sex, choking, edging, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, dom!rooster, oral (f receiving), rank kink if you squint, bruises, praise kink, dumbification, rooster is a leg man fight me, mentioning hangman during sex (yes this is a warning because jake seresin is sinful), the whole nine honestly I can't believe I'm posting this

length- 3.3k ish words

You silently curse Maverick for introducing the team to dogfight football as everyone trudges down towards the beach. Now, instead of working on your tan or napping on the beach for your one and only day off, you're being forced into athletic competition masquerading as a fun beach game. You like working out as much as the next pilot, but with one day off? You’d much rather spend it horizontal with your boyfriend than sprinting after him in the sand. Your gorgeous, half-naked boyfriend who's currently smoothing out his mustache in annoyance while he argues with Hangman about how they’ll split up the teams. You’re not sure who decided to make these two idiots team captains, but suspect it was born out of making sure they wouldn’t kill each other on the same team.

Rooster ends up choosing first, much to Hangman’s chagrin.

“Payback.”

“Wow,” you joke, your hand over your wounded heart for theatrics. “I see where your loyalties lie, babe.”

“Don’t be mad,” Rooster smiles into your hair before kissing your temple.

Pulling you into his side by the waist, he lightly skims his fingers across the part of your hipbone that always makes you shiver. The part that already has a bruise forming from his unrelenting grip this morning, while you were falling apart on his cock.

You glare up at him as if to say silently, don't change the subject, and he pointedly looks above your head to Seresin, pretending he’s not having flashbacks of your wanton moans.

“Hangman, go.”

The blonde flashes his signature smirk, stupid mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and reaches out to tug you from Rooster’s grasp, “Clutch, you’re with me.”

It’s surprising, of course. You weren’t actually mad at not being picked first, and definitely didn’t think Hangman of all people would be the one to do so.

“Bro,” Coyote grumbles. “No offense, Clutch, but what the fuck?"

Hangman shrugs in response, trying to maintain his poker face and not laugh out loud at the way Rooster’s jaw clenches. He knows having you on the opposite team is a huge distraction for mustache boy and well, he’d be remiss if he didn’t take advantage of Rooster’s ridiculous misty-eyed love for you, wouldn’t he?

Phoenix and Bob end up with Rooster too while Hangman manages to snag Coyote and Fanboy, punching Coyote in the shoulder for being so grumpy about not being picked first.

Not long into the game, Rooster has the ball, looking around for an open teammate and you see your opportunity.

As he knew there were no limits to your competitiveness no matter how much you complained about having to play, Hangman suggested you cover Rooster, so you’re already face to face with his very shirtless, very tanned body. You trail your hand across his abs, barely dipping your fingertips below his waistband. Subtle enough that no one else clocks what you’re up to, too consumed defending each other, but suggestive enough that Rooster’s attention snaps to you immediately.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, eyeing you suspiciously, hands still firmly planted around the ball that’s well out of your reach.

You flash the most innocent smile you can manage, “Sorry, babe, you just look so good. Couldn’t help myself.”

He beams down at you, completely disarmed and blushing a little despite his best efforts to maintain a healthy level of skepticism.

“Am I making it hard for my girl to concentrate?” He teases, arms faltering slightly.

“Something like that,” you grin, like the cat that got the cream, before taking advantage of his momentary lapse in judgment to snatch the ball out of his hands, swiftly turning and throwing it straight to Hangman by the makeshift endzone. He sprints through, throwing the ball to the ground in victory.

“And that,” Hangman shouts, practically banging his chest, “is why you’re never stupid enough to pick Clutch second, fellas!”

“Ruthless,” Rooster feigns hurt across his tanned features, fighting a smile at your cheesy finger guns. “Didn’t know we were playing dirty.”

“What, you think this is a fuckin’ game, Bradshaw?” You taunt.

“Oh, it’s on.”

You know you have to up the ante the next time around, without the element of surprise it’ll be harder to shake him.

You absentmindedly play with the bruise forming on your hipbone before the ball is anywhere near you and you can feel his eyes raking over the spot where your fingers touch. Fighting a smile, you adjust your workout shorts next, tugging them down the inside of your thighs where they’ve ridden up, fingers dancing a little close to your hot center for the public setting, but hey, hopefully no one’s paying attention. Besides, he’s always been a sucker for your legs, evident by how much time he spends between them. By the time he’s done staring and lifts his eyes to yours you’re smirking.

“Bradshaw, my eyes are up here.”

He doesn’t even bother looking ashamed, instead meeting your gaze with that filthy glint in his eyes. It takes everything in you to remain focused on the task at hand. You’re supposed to be sidetracking him, not the other way around.

You manage to sneak around him and catch the ball as Fanboy throws it your way, but you’re a little too far from the endzone to make a break for it without Rooster catching up to you. His dog tags are reflecting in the sunlight, resting against his hard chest and you smile, leaning in to grab them with your free hand.

Pulling him towards you by his chain so you can keep these words between the two of you, you adopt a comically casual tone, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like if you choked me with these, babe, I mean your big hands are more than enough but—”

“Nope," Rooster cuts you off tersely as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder before marching in the direction of the parking lot.

You giggle, arching your back to toss the ball towards the group as best you can while still mostly upside down, and throw them a sloppy two finger salute, “See y’all later.”

“You guys are the worst!” Phoenix shouts after you and everyone yells in agreement.

He doesn't set you down until you're in the parking lot, immediately pulling you back against his front.

“You’re gonna pay for teasing me like that, princess,” he breathes in your ear, right hand sliding up your chest and to your neck as his left digs for his car keys.

“Oh no,” you drawl sarcastically, “That wasn’t what I was aiming for whatsoever.”

He can’t help but chuckle, even with his hand practically engulfing your throat you’re still playing him like a fiddle, teasing and pushing his buttons until he aches to put you in your place. He knows exactly what you’ve been playing at, but he still can’t help his primal response to it.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna wipe that bratty little smirk right off your pretty face.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you respond cheekily. “Was just admiring my gorgeous boyfriend all day. Always makes me smile, how beautiful he is.”

His fingers tighten almost unconsciously at his rank tumbling out of your delicate lips. And now it’s his turn to smirk, as he hears your breath hitch and feels you grind back onto his growing bulge. He unlocks the car and pulls the passenger side door open with his free hand, turning you around for a searing kiss before picking you up and setting you in his Bronco. He buckles you in, and you roll your eyes at the babying gesture, still in a fiery mood.

Shooting you a warning look for the eye rolling, Rooster gets in the other side and you begin running your hand up his arm, stopping to appreciate his bicep flexing as he turns the keys in the ignition. It’s almost innocent, really, but he sees right through you.

“No touching me or yourself until we get home.”

He bites back a laugh at your pout and settles his hand on your knee as he starts to drive. Which, you find out quickly, is much worse than not being touched at all, although you imagine that’s purposeful. He always knows how to wind you up while barely lifting a finger. You feel his hand burning on your leg, rubbing affectionate circles just south of where you want it. You shift in the passenger seat and the movement subtly urges his hand up your thigh, thinking he won’t notice as his eyes are decidedly fixed on the road.

As soon as he pulls up to a red light, he immediately removes his hand from your thigh to grab your jaw roughly and pull you into a kiss.

“You have to learn to be patient, baby. Keep trying to rush me and I won’t touch you at all,” he mutters against your lips. “Be a good girl for me.”

Your breathing shallows and you nod, both of you knowing as soon as that phrase comes out, you’re done for.

You’re crawling out of your skin by the time he pulls up to the house, mind on an endless loop of please touch me, kiss me, please do something, anything.

“I hope you remember your colors, because if I don’t hear the word red I’m not stopping,” he promises darkly, possessive hand around the back of your neck as he leads you into the house and to the bedroom.

He all but throws you on the bed, making quick work of your clothes. Stepping back and taking his time with his own while he admires you, naked and squirming for him. He watches patiently as your thighs press together, hands fisting in the comforter.

What feels like eons later, he settles on the bed, pushing your legs apart to fit his wide frame between them. Peppering kisses up the inside of your thighs, he refuses to put his mouth where you really want it.

You whimper in frustration and Rooster snickers at your exasperation before licking a stripe up your dripping wet slit. The sound that comes out of your mouth is positively filthy, doubling in volume when he slips one of those thick fingers in without warning.

“Fuck, baby,” It’s his turn to groan now. “You’re so wet. Surprised you didn’t soak through those tiny little things you call shorts.”

“Thought I was going to, been ready for you all day,” you grit out.

As much as you love his mouth on you, it’s not what you need right now as your cunt is aching to be filled. You untangle your fingers from the comforter to pull him up by the shoulders and attach your lips to his. Reaching down to palm his hard cock, you run your thumb across the slit that’s leaking with precum. He drops his head to your shoulder, panting as his control wavers.

“Need you in me,” you beg between kisses. “Please.”

You immediately wish you hadn’t said anything when raises his head to look at you, pupils blown but with newfound resolve and a smug grin on his lips.

“Greedy,” he teases, taking your hands from his cock and lifting your arms above your head.

He easily pins both wrists down with one hand, while the other traces down your body, taking his time palming your tits one by one, touching your hipbones with surprising gentleness, before settling between your legs once more. His fingers slide through your wet folds, pad of his thumb circling your clit and your head falls back against the pillows, body arching at the feeling.

He’s building you up, exactly how he knows you like, your inner walls already beginning to shake with anticipation, clenching around nothing as you get closer to the edge.

And then suddenly, he pulls his fingers away and you want to cry with how quickly you feel your climax disappearing into thin air.

“You’d let me do anything I wanted to you right now, wouldn’t you baby girl? You’d do anything to get my cock in that needy pussy.”

“Yes sir,” you whine submissively, even surprising yourself at how desperate you sound.

“No more Bradshaw and babe now, huh,” he mocks your cheeky tone from earlier. “Told you I’d fuck that bratty attitude right out of you.”

You wish you had the wherewithal to come up with a witty response about how he hasn’t even fucked you yet and could he get to it already, you really do. But before you can formulate half a thought, he’s finally pushing his thick member into you and no matter how many times the two of you do this you always, always forget how much he stretches you. How each time you wonder if he’s going to fit.

The only indication he gives that he’s as affected by this as you are is that there’s no time to adjust to his size before he’s thrusting, hard and fast and rough. It’s right on the line between pleasure and pain.

The moment he swipes the pad of his thumb over your bundle of nerves again you’re close, embarrassingly close. You feel your body tensing, winding tighter and tighter.

“Please, I’m so close, please let me come.”

You’re pushing hard against the grip he has on your wrists, to no avail.

He smiles against your skin, nipping at your neck before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“No.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes as he pulls away the hand that was on your clit, slowing his pace to an unbearable speed and you feel your peak slipping farther and farther away.

“Please, Roos—" you start, trying to pull him closer with your legs.

“You know my name, princess,” he growls, pulling back.

“Bradley,” you moan, the hard edges in his words sending another wave of heat through you. “Sir—plea—I need—harder, faster. Ohmy god, please.”

You’re barely coherent and the evil part of him wants to push further, to see how long he can keep you like this, if he can make you lose your words completely.

He completely ignores your pleas, releasing your wrists so he can run both his hands down your body, stopping again to rub circles around the bruises on your hipbones.

“You think they’d believe me? If I told everyone how needy you are for me?”

You don’t answer, can’t answer because all you can think is please, harder, more. Instead, you’re gripping his biceps for dear life, mind still reeling from how infuriatingly slow he’s fucking into you.

“The team would never expect strong, hard-headed Clutch could act like this. Putty in my hands, whining and begging for me like a depraved slut.”

A loud moan leaves your mouth at that and he rewards you by picking up the pace, putting his weight behind his thrusts again. You’re staring up at him with glazed eyes, mouth parted and breathy mewls coming out in a constant stream as he continues.

“Seresin definitely wouldn’t. Can you imagine if I told him how pretty you look fucked out and dumb for my cock? He’d probably think I was lying, thinks you dominate the hell outta me. If only he knew the truth.”

You clench around him involuntarily and he smirks when he sees the blush rising on your cheeks.

“God, I do love having you all to myself, but it seems selfish not to share someone as perfect as you, darlin’.”

You tuck your face in his neck, unable to meet those playful dark eyes. He pulls out and flips you over, pulling your ass into the air and sliding back into you in one smooth motion.

He’s hitting that spot deep inside you, and you shove your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. You feel fingers tangle in your hair, tugging and arching your back as he pulls you up towards his chest, pace unrelenting. Bradley slides that big hand up around to your neck again, finally getting to pound you from behind like he wanted to outside of his Bronco. That seems like days ago, now. His other hand is circling your clit, quickly bringing you right to the brink once more.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock like the little slut you are.”

You feel like a rubber band, pushed to its limits and snapped. White-hot pleasure courses through you, finally releasing all the tension in your body.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” Bradley’s breath is hot in your ear. You barely register his praise, still shaking. “Wanna come inside your tight pussy and fill you up.”

You can’t help the obscene noises spilling out of your mouth, even louder than before as he continues to fuck you, relentless, while you try to come down from your high. It’s overwhelming, his thick length pounding your trembling, slick walls. His grip impossibly tight on your hip as he empties in you. The warmth is spreading inside, your walls spasming weakly at the feeling of fullness. He keeps his hands on you as he softens, fingers starting their dance in maddening circles on your overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“S’too much,” you slur, head falling back on his shoulder.

If you weren’t in such a daze you might be impressed on how he’s managed to make it his mission to continue ruining you only moments after his own climax. He’s completely supporting your weight, any sense of self-preservation having left you long ago.

He shifts, pulling out and you try not to whine too loudly at the empty feeling. You momentarily think he’s done with his torture, but then he lays you down on your back and puts his lips right to your center, fingers pushing his cum back inside you as it tries to drip out.

“No,” he lifts his head to say again, and you hate how that always sends a wave of heat right to your core. “You begged and begged to come. I’m just giving you what you wanted baby."

“Dunno,” you shudder, “if I can take anym—Bradley pleas—”

“You can.”

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone.

“You’ve been such a good girl. I know you can come again. Just one more and I’ll give you a break.”

He’s making lazy circles with his tongue, his pace the only indication there exists a fiber of mercy in his being.

Your skin feels tight as his praise washes over you. He’s fucking you with his fingers now, curling them while slowly increasing his onslaught on every nerve in your body through his touch to your core. You can’t help but grab his wrist, trying to pull him away from you as he blurs the line between pleasure and pain. You’re shaking uncontrollably and shouting his name, as you come again, sure you’re going to black out.

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he whispers as you clench around his fingers. He’s kissing your jaw, lips, forehead.

He gently pulls his hand away and wraps his arms around you, holding you through the aftershocks.

“You’re perfect, baby. Did so well for me.”

You smile up at him a few minutes later as he gently puts a water bottle to your lips. Ever the gentleman, you think, even after he’s absolutely wrecked you.

“We have to wash the sheets and comforter,” Rooster complains jokingly, when he’s pretty sure your mind is mostly functioning again. “There’s sand everywhere.”

“Yeah, you should get right on that, Lieutenant,” you mumble, planting your face in his chest.

He reaches out to tickle your sides lightly, “Maybe this Lieutenant will order you to do it for him.”

“It’s so cute you think you’re in charge,” you yawn, rolling over and settling in, clearly not making a move to get up.

Rooster rolls his eyes, forcing himself not to take the bait this time, instead pulling you tighter.

#rooster top gun #rooster smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster fic #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #rooster imagine #top gun #rooster fanfic #Bradley bradshaw fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic

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justabigassnerd · 1 year

Text

Mini Mav

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,545

Warnings - mention of alcohol, mostly just fluff

Summary - during a game of dogfight football, the Daggers find out their Captain has a little secret

A/N - it's another fic y'all!! I gotta admit this one is probably not the best thing I've written but it's something. I don't think this was gonna be any longer than a short n sweet fic and idk if the story came across all that well but y'know I tried my best. Anyways I'll stop rambling. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

Maverick had decided that the newly formed Dagger Squad needed some time to learn how to work as a team after seeing the tensions between them during training sessions. Especially with the tensions between Hangman and Rooster, Maverick needed to guarantee that the two could have each other’s backs in the air if he chose them both for the mission.

When Dagger Squad arrived at the beach, they grew confused when they saw Maverick and Hondo standing together with footballs in hand and a whistle around Hondo’s neck. When the team questioned what was going on Maverick simply shrugged and split them into two teams, passing the orange ball to Hangman and the blue ball to Rooster.

“This is dogfight football. You’re going to be focusing on offence and defence at the same time.” Maverick starts before explaining the rules. Once the team is ready to play, Hondo initiates the game and both teams begin to pass the balls to their teammates, trying to get the ball to their end of the made-up pitch. Maverick plays for a while but when it gets too much he taps out, throwing his shirt back on as the team groans and teases him for leaving. Maverick notices Penny leaving the Hard Deck as he approaches the beach chair he had set out and waves him over, with Maverick running over.

“Hey Penny.” Maverick grins as Penny smiles back at the aviator.

“Hey, Mav. I’ve got a toddler in the back room who’s just woken up from her nap and is now asking for her daddy.” Penny says, gesturing loosely with her head in the direction of the small back room of the Hard Deck that homed a sofa that you often crashed on for naps while Maverick was having a drink or two at the bar.

“On it.” Maverick says without hesitation and heads through the empty bar to the back room, opening the door quietly and his smile widening when he sees you, his three-year-old daughter rubbing at your eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Maverick says, the smile refusing to leave his face as you light up upon hearing your dad’s voice.

“Daddy!” You exclaim happily, barrelling towards your dad as he scoops you up in his arms. You immediately wrapped your arms around Maverick’s neck and hugged him tightly as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You wanna go out and sit with me on the beach?” Maverick asks, watching as you nod and let him carry you out to the beach chair he had brought.

“Do you want to build some sandcastles, y/n/n?” Maverick asks as he eases himself down into the chair but you simply shake your head, clinging to him. He doesn’t force you to do anything so he just settles down in the seat and smiles lightly as you cling to him, the tiredness clearly still in your system.

Rooster was the first of Dagger Squad to notice. He was jokingly booing a touchdown scored by the opposing team and as he looked in Bob’s direction, he caught a glimpse of Maverick with a kid curled up on his chest. Rooster stopped mid-groan when he noticed, a look of shock and upset covering his face.

“Don’t need to pull a face, Rooster. We’re clearly the better team.” Hangman gloats, lifting his sunglasses to shoot a wink at Rooster but noticing Rooster didn’t shift his gaze to glare at Hangman like he usually would. The rest of the Daggers catch on to Rooster staring and they follow his line of sight to see Maverick whose attention wasn’t on the team but instead on the little girl in his lap.

“Mav’s got a kid?” Payback asks, glancing at Hondo who shrugs.

“His business is his business.” Hondo states simply, lifting the whistle to his mouth to start the game again but the whole squadron begins crossing to Maverick, with Rooster trailing behind awkwardly and hiding behind the group where Maverick couldn’t see him. Maverick didn’t miss the group of aviators crossing to him and immediately knew they’d have questions since he never gave any hints that he was a father.

“You guys have questions, huh?” Maverick says with a slight smirk as he looks up at the aviators as you cling a little tighter to him. He whispers some words of reassurance to you and watches as you settle back against him and even offers the group a smile and a wave.

“We didn’t know you had a kid.” Fanboy states the obvious and Maverick laughs to himself while hugging you a little tighter.

“In all fairness, I never made it obvious I had a kid. But this is y/n.” Maverick says, introducing you to the group and they all say hi to you, all of them instantly smitten with you.

“You married, old timer? Never saw a ring.” Hangman asks, a smirk playing across his lips as Maverick shakes his head.

“Nope, not married. Let’s just say I met a pretty lady a few drinks in and nine months later I have this little monster.” Maverick says, tickling you lightly as you squeal and try to wriggle out of your dad’s grip before he stops. The team figured out what he meant pretty quickly from those words, and they immediately dropped the subject before someone could ask where your mother was.

“How old’s mini Mav?” Phoenix asks with a small smile, glancing down at you and then back up at your dad.

“Three.” Maverick replies, running a hand up and down your back gently.

“Hey! I believe you guys have some team building to be getting on with!” Hondo calls across to the squad, getting their attention as they look at him and then back at Maverick.

“Hondo’s right. Cyclone will already have my ass for having you guys out here instead of training. At least give me something to prove this is worth it.” Maverick says and the team all nod, moving to return to their game. All except for Rooster who remains rooted in place, unable to remove his gaze from you and his godfather. He felt two conflicting emotions at once. He was still angry at Maverick for pulling his papers and setting him back four years. But, in seeing you, he felt upset at himself for cutting Maverick out. Maverick was the only family he had left and Rooster had felt nothing but alone after cutting Maverick out and after his mother died. Seeing you made Rooster see the man who used to carry him around when he was younger because his feet hurt from dancing around to his dad playing ‘Great Balls of Fire’. In seeing you, he saw his dad’s best friend. His Uncle Maverick.

“Bradley…” Maverick starts, unable to form words as he looks at the man standing in front of him.

“Hey, Mav.” Rooster says awkwardly, his hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck, a habit he’d developed in his youth.

“You uhh- you have a kid.” Rooster then says, gesturing loosely in your direction as you wave at him, a grin on your face and clearly oblivious to the tension between the two.

“I do. y/n this Bradley. Bradley, this is y/n.” Maverick says, introducing the two of you, fighting to keep his smile on his face for you.

“Hi, Bradley!” You grin, and Rooster can’t help but smile back.

“Hey, y/n.” Rooster says, unable to stop the smile as he waves at you lightly. After getting the greeting from Rooster, you settle back against Maverick, giggling when he grunts jokingly at your shuffling. Once you’re content, you lie your head against your dad’s chest, right above his heart and cuddle as close as humanly possible.

“Look, Rooster, I am so sorry for-”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Mav. Especially not in front of your daughter. But if you’d let me. I’d like to try and make things better. It may take some time. But I’m willing to try.” Rooster says, struggling to find the right words. He wasn’t ready to fully forgive Maverick for what he did, but Rooster was starting to see him the same way he did growing up. Maverick, respecting Rooster’s wishes, nodded with a small smile. Maverick then turns his attention down to you, his smile growing when he sees you fast asleep on his chest, a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you sleep comfortably against your dad.

“Figured you were still sleepy.” Maverick whispers to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before redirecting his attention to Rooster.

“We can talk more later. For now, go join the dogfight football. You and Hangman need to learn how to get on.” Maverick says, nodding his head in the direction of the Dagger Squad and Rooster gives a small nod before turning on his heels and heading back over to the team. Maverick watched the team for but a moment before turning his attention back to you, gently brushing the fallen strands of hair away from your face before whispering to your sleeping form.

“I gotta say, kiddo. I think mini Mav is the best nickname you’ve ever been given. It’s sticking around.”

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sarahsmi13s · 5 months

Text

Rocks Are Allowed to Crack, Stars Are Allowed to Dim

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!pilot!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n nivans, the daggers, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, diego and benny harding (oc father and son)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings, please please let me know if i missed any

word count: ~8.0k

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs and on my wheel for at least a year (please forgive the awkward moments). so i figured i'd take a sliver of the wheel and make him a little lighter! i've also been in a funk lately, so i thought getting something out there might help!

quick summary: everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder

Ah, yes, dogfight football. Maverick’s way of creating a team. You play offense and defense at the same time. Tackling each other into the sand, sometimes into the water. It may be chaotic, but it’s fun and a great team building exercise.

Which is why you hated that you were running a little behind.

You sighed as you got out of your car and walked over to where Penny was sitting at the table.

You placed your aviators on your head, “I’m not late am I?” Penny chuckled and shook her head, “Just in time. Want a beer before you go?” You shook your head, “Nah, I’m okay right now. Care to watch my stuff?”

The brunette gestured to the items in front of her, chuckling, “I’m watchin’ everyone else's. I don’t see why not.” You chuckled and sat your wallet, phone, and keys down, as well as your sunglasses. You slipped off your shorts, folding them and laying them down.

“Nivans!”

You turned at the call of your last name, brows raised in curiosity.

It was Maverick.

“Hurry up and get down here!”

You turned to Penny, “This is gonna be fun.” You both laughed before you jogged across the sand to meet everyone by the water.

“Sorry I’m late, Mav.”

Maverick shook his head, “You’re not late, Rockstar. Can’t be late for fun.”

“Not gonna take your t-shirt off?” Phoenix asked when you stood beside her. You shook your head, “Nah, I’m good.”

Hangman sighed, “That’s a shame.”

You chuckled at him and bent down to throw a handful of sand at him.

“Watch it, Rockstar,” Hangman said, his voice light as he glared at you playfully.

“Or what, Hangman?” You challenged, eyes narrowed but a smile pulled at your lips.

Now, you and Hangman joked like this all the time. You considered each other best friends, which confused everyone else on base.

Jake Seresin was an asshole. He was cocky and arrogant. You, Y/N Nivans, were not an asshole. Quite the opposite, actually.

You were humble while still knowing your worth, but also showing anybody up if they proposed a challenge, and not being sour when you lost.

Jake went out looking for competition, you let it come to you.

You were also probably the sweetest thing to walk the planet. Most certainly the sweetest to walk the airstrip.

You were nice to everyone, always giving someone the benefit of the doubt until they truly proved they were an asshole.

You also took care of your team, they were your family. You always had the door open if someone needed to talk. Your arms were wide open when they showed up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare and couldn’t shake it. You were their rock.

So, when you walked into the Hard Deck that first day of the Uranium Mission and hugged Hangman, everyone was confused — except Coyote who knew you from a year prior. But they didn’t verbally question you, choosing instead to ponder in private.

Hangman sighed, “Come on, Rocky. You're giving your enemy the advantage.” He tugged at your shirt and pulled you into his arms.

You laughed and pushed him away by his chest, “You’re gonna have to catch me first.” Hangman cocked his head to the side, “Oooh, that’s how it is?” You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips, “That’s how it is.”

You panted as you used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face.

When you let go of your shirt you raised your arms, calling for the ball. They threw it to you and you took off for your endzone.

You felt the sand shift and you knew Hangman was behind you. You had to get rid of the ball, so you called out to your teammate, “Phoenix!” She ran ahead of you and you threw her the ball.

As soon as the ball was out of your hand, Hangman tackled you to the ground.

You laughed as you laid on your stomach, arms out in front of you.

“What was that about ‘catching you’?” Jake grunted from above you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Haha, very funny Hangman. Now get off, you’re heavy.”

“First, ouch. Second, nah, you’re comfy.” You laughed and shook your head, attempting to push off the ground and basically buck him off.

But, Hangman wouldn’t let you, laughing as he moved and made you fall back down.

In this new position, Hangman was putting pressure on a certain part of your back and panic shot through you.

“Seriously, dude, get up,” you tried to say with a laugh, not wanting to sound rude or like you were mad at him. He just smiled and rested his chin on his hands.

You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, but the waves hitting you pushed you over the edge.

“Jake, get the fuck off me.” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you were panicking.

Jake was surprised by your tone, along with the use of his first name. He immediately got up and held out a hand for you to take but you just got up and ran to the table.

“Rockstar, where you going?” Maverick asked. You called out while still running, “I need a break for a minute.”

You got to the table, “Is it unlocked?” Penny nodded, “Yeah, why?” “Bathroom break.” Penny just nodded again and watched you take your sunglasses with you as you jogged inside.

Rooster ran over and hit Jake’s arm, “What did you do, Hangman?” Jake shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He put his hands on his hips and watched you disappear into the bar.

He felt bad, he wanted to chase after you and apologize but he didn’t know what he did.

“Well, you seemed to piss her off,” Phoenix said, shoving the ball into his chest.

Maverick looked at Penny but she just shrugged, meaning you didn’t say much.

You ran into the bathroom, throwing yourself into a stall.

You leaned over the toilet and waited to throw up. Tears had started running down your face the minute you stepped in the bar. You coughed and sobbed lightly as you tried to control your breathing.

After a few minutes of that, the nausea subsided and you slowly stood to go to the sink.

You turned the cold water on and splashed your face.

“Shit…”

You closed your eyes as the tight feeling in your chest loosened. You let out a shaky breath and looked in the mirror, cringing at the puffiness around your eyes. You grabbed your sunglasses and slipped them on before leaving the bathroom.

When you stepped outside you saw Maverick and Penny talking, and when you sat down they stopped talking and looked at you concerned.

“You alright? Gave Hangman quite the scare for a second,” Mav asked, squaring his shoulders to you. You nodded, resting your forearms on the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rubbed your forehead, “Hey Pen-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a beer was sat in front of you, causing you to giggle, “Read my mind.”

As he continued to play, Jake still couldn’t get over the fact that you called him ‘Jake’ during a day out.

It wasn’t that you never did, but it was rare that you called anyone by their first name.

But it wasn’t just that, it was the way you said that really made him worry. He had never heard your voice sound like that before.

He looked at you from his spot on the beach, noticing you didn’t come back to join in the fun.

Hangman walked up to Phoenix, worried that he had really upset you and wanted help from the girl you were closest to. “You don’t really think I pissed her off, do you?”

She sighed, “I don’t know, Hangman. Even if you did, I doubt she could stay mad at you for long. She can't be mad at anyone for very long.”

Jake nodded and watched you stand up from your spot at the table.

You finished your beer and stood up, “I’m gonna head out.”

Maverick frowned, “You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just really need to shower. I’ve got sand in places sand shouldn’t be,” you said with a light laugh.

“Okay, drive safe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” You collected your stuff and headed to your car.

Jake noticed you leaving and tilted his head, “Hey…” He patted Coyote on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogged up to the table to ask Maverick if he knew anything.

“Is she okay?” Hangman asked as soon as he came to a stop. Maverick shrugged, not looking up at the pilot, “She seemed okay. Said she needed to shower.”

Jake let out a breath, “So she isn’t mad at me?”

“I didn’t say that. But as far as I can tell, she’s just tired.”

Jake licked the sweat off his upper lip, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down.

“Hangman, honey, just go talk to her. If she’s upset with you, she’ll be honest about it,” Penny encouraged, giving Jake a small smile. He nodded and jogged to go find you before you left.

You were standing by your car, the door opened as you moved to get in when he approached.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake called as he walked over to you. You smiled, “Hey, Hangman.”

Jake swallowed, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just messing around. I did-”

You held your hand up, cutting him off, “Jake, I’m not mad at you. I know you were just playing. But your tackle jump started my bladder and I wasn’t kidding when I said you were heavy.” You giggled a bit to show him you were teasing.

Hangman visibly relaxed at the sound, “Okay, good. I know I like to get under everyone’s skin. Sometimes I don’t know when to knock it off. I–”

You held up your hand, cutting him off. “Jake, I can handle your teasing. Yeah, you can get a little mean. But I know it’s all a big show. Come here,” you opened your arms and made grabby hands at Jake.

He just shook his head and chuckled, pulling you in by your outstretched hands and letting them find their place around his built torso.

He rubbed his hand on your back, nearly missing the slight tensing right beneath your shoulder blades before they relaxed. His brow furrowed but he didn’t mention it, thinking that maybe it was you tightening your arms around him.

He kissed the top of your head before you pulled away.

“Geez, Jake, you’re sweaty.”

“You’re not too dry yourself, Rockstar.” You laughed and playfully shoved him away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” You smiled and slid into your car, “I’ll kick your ass tomorrow Hangman.”

He scoffed leaning on the roof of your car and the open door. “Since when did you get so cocky?”

You smirked and placed your glasses on your head, forgetting that your eyes could still be red and puffy from earlier. “It’s not cocky if it’s the truth.”

Jake shook his head and looked back to the shore. “Uh-huh. We’ll see.” He leaned back and patted the top of your car. “Drive safe.” You nodded, and he closed your door.

He watched you start it up before driving away.

Jake shook his head and made his way back to the group.

Speaking of the group, they had all noticed the change in Jake when you showed up at the Hard Deck a few months ago.

While he was still his cocky self, having no shame in bragging and trash talking, he seemed to tone it down when you were around.

They also noticed how he always made sure to find you in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. Coyote joked that you had Hangman wrapped around your finger, that he would be at your side with a simple look.

Jake was painfully aware of the effect you had on him.

When he met you a year ago, he was starstruck by your dazzling smile.

So, naturally, in true Hangman fashion, he flirted with you.

With a toothpick between his perfect white teeth and his bright green eyes shining under the yellow lights of the bar, he walked up to you.

“I sure hope no one left you alone.”

When you turned, eyeing him up and down to take in the uniform, beer bottle popping as it left your mouth, his breath was ripped from his lungs.

“Well, you’re here now. I’m not alone.”

Seeing your smile up close caused Hangman to blush, and leaving him thankful that his tan could somewhat hide it.

“Well, ain’t I special.”

You nodded, giggling while looking down at the bar, “That you are. But, before this can go any further, I’m gonna be honest, I’m more dedicated to my work than anything else at the moment. And I have to be up by 5, so I’d hate to lead you on.”

Jake shook his head, but you continued, gesturing around the bar, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love to get attention from you and give you attention.”

Jake smiled –not smirked, smiled– while leaning on the bar, “Well, the only one I want attention from is you. Plus, I can’t stay out too late either. Gotta be at work early too, so I guess we’re both clocking in early.”

None of the feelings that day had been one sided. You also had been starstruck by Hangman.

He was broad shoulder, tall, tan, and had a voice that could make a girl swoon in a second. But you knew he was a pilot, his uniform gave it away, and you knew how they acted. Except, you liked Jake’s company and decided to talk all night with him.

Ironically, what you both did for work never came up.

So, imagine the look on Jake’s face when he saw you the next day in your flight suit.

“You didn’t tell me you were a pilot.”

You smirked, “You didn’t ask.”

He shook his head, biting his lower lip to hide his smile but failed.

You nodded to him, “What do they call you?”

“Hangman. What about you?” You smiled, “Rockstar.”

You were able to peg why he earned his callsign very early on but he couldn’t seem to figure yours out.

Until he had a close call and couldn’t shake it.

The last day of training had just ended, tomorrow you might not come home, and to say you were nervous was a major understatement.

As you changed to get ready to go out with the squad, you couldn’t stop shaking. You knew you needed a drink… okay a couple drinks.

While you changed, Hangman was walking around, looking for you.

When he walked past the locker room, he caught a glimpse of you reaching to pick something up.

He turned to walk in, but stopped when he saw that you only had your pants on. But, before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed up your back; starting from above your waistline on your pants and going up.

Then he stopped, his eyes widening when he saw the large scar that looked fairly new – maybe a year or so old. It spanned from the middle of your left shoulder blade to nearly below your ribcage and was positioned diagonally across your back.

Jake quickly looked away, realizing that you must have not wanted anyone to see it if you hadn’t told him.

His brow furrowed as questions ran through his mind. Was that why you freaked out during dogfight football, the other day? Why you always tense up when you get an unexpected touch there?

Shit… He thought, feeling like a horrible friend for never noticing and never asking.

Jake took a deep breath and walked away, choosing to approach the locker room differently and pretend he never saw you.

He put on a smile and walked back towards the locker room, “Hey, Rockstar! You almost ready?” He stopped just short of the door, leaning his back against the wall.

Your head jerked up as you pulled your t-shirt down. “Uh, yeah, Hangman. I’ll be ready in a second.”

You finished getting ready and walked out, jumping slightly when he pushed off the wall.

“Geez Hang, don’t do that!” You punched his arm.

“Gosh, I forgot how hard you punch.” He chuckled and rubbed the spot on his arm as you both walked to the parking lot.

You all sat in the Hard Deck, drinking and playing pool.

“Dude, she’s kicking your ass!” Payback laughed as he clapped Hangman on the shoulder.

You were, in fact, kicking Jake’s ass in pool. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the blond narrowed his eyes at Payback.

“Yeah, you feelin’ okay? You’ve been off your game tonight Bagman,” Rooster commented, smirking as he drank his alcohol.

Instead of clapping back at the jab, Jake just rolled his eyes and lined up his shot.

That made you frown, Hangman always had a comeback. Always had sarcastic quips to embarrass the other person. But he was silent.

You made eye contact when he stood, silently asking if he was okay. He just nodded and moved to sink another pool ball.

You didn’t want to drop it, but you did for the sake of having fun before facing the chance of death tomorrow.

Sometime later, after a few rounds of pool and drinks, you all stood around and just talked.

“Hey, did you guys hear about that one pilot that saved her WSO’s life when they got shot down?” Bob asked, looking around the group.

You clenched your jaw slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice.

“Bob, that happens all the time. It’s kinda what we do,” Phoenix said, squeezing his shoulder.

Rooster stood up and sat his beer down. “No, not the way this pilot did. Bob, I know who you’re talking about. I read the mission file, the only thing that was classified was the pilot and WSO’s names.”

You swirled the beer in your glass, not looking up from the amber liquid. “Did the pilot survive?”

When you finished asking, you looked up, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of Hangman as you met Rooster’s eyes.

The latter nodded, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. But she had a pretty serious injury. I’m not sure if she was ever clear to fly again.”

You nodded and looked back down at your glass.

“And the WSO?” Jake asked, eyeing you as you downed the rest of your drink before looking at Rooster and Bob.

“He survived. But I don’t know if he still flies,” Bob answered.

“Well, that’s good that they both survived,” you said, your smile returning to your face.

Rooster shook his head a bit, “Yeah, but that pilot pulled a risky move. Saving some like that…”

Your smile dropped a bit, “People have their reasons.” You raised your glass, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Hangman watched you leave as the conversation changed into something more light hearted.

Jake took a step to go after you but Coyote caught his arm. “Hey, come on. Play me in a round of pool. Let’s see if you still got your game.” Jake looked from his friend back to you and saw you laughing with Penny and Maverick at the bar. That allowed him to relax a little bit.

“Oh, I still got my game. Let’s see if you found yours,” he smirked. “There he is!” Coyote laughed and clapped Jake on the back.

As Jake played pool with Coyote, you talked with Penny and Maverick.

“Are you serious?”

You nodded, laughing at Penny’s reaction to you telling her how you and Jake met.

“Pen, why are you surprised? Hangman flirts with every girl,” Maverick said, using his hand to point the direction of the mentioned pilot. You and Penny both nodded your agreement.

“Sounds familiar,” Penny says, a playful grin on her face making Maverick roll his eyes.

You had become so invested in your conversation with Penny and Mav, that you missed Rooster coming up behind you.

He placed his hand on your back, right on your scar, making you tense and jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’ Rocky,” he took his hand off and leaned on the bar.

“You doin’ okay? You seemed a bit…” He glanced back at the group, thinking of the right word. “...tense a minute ago.”

You bit the inside of your lip, had you really been that obvious?

Still, you nodded and gave him your best smile.

But to him, he could see that it didn’t reach your eyes. He may not have been your best friend, but he had seen plenty of your genuine smiles and this one did not make your eyes shine like the others.

Bradley decided not to press, “Okay…” He turned to Penny, “Penny, could we get another round?” The bartender nodded, “Of course, but you’re reaching your cut off.”

Penny had set a cut off for drinks for the pilots not wanting them to go into this mission hungover. You chuckled and glanced back at the group, all of them messing around and having fun. “Yes ma’am.”

You turned to Rooster and then back down to your empty glass. Penny hadn’t refilled it yet, having started a conversation with you as soon as you came over.

You glanced at your watch, seeing that you had been there for a couple hours.

Penny sat a tray down, placing the full glasses on top. “There you are, Rooster. Who’s tab?”

Rooster opened his mouth to tell her to put it on his, but you beat him to it, “Put it on mine Pen.”

“You got the last round, Rockstar,” Rooster argued. You shrugged, “I don’t mind. Plus, I’m closing my tab for tonight.”

“What? You’re heading out already?” You nodded, sliding Penny your card, “I’m hitting my limit, Roos.”

Bradley searched your eyes for a moment, looking for any indication that something was wrong.

You were usually the one that made sure everyone was okay to go home and if they needed rides; so leaving early rung bells in Rooster’s head.

Penny gave you your card and receipt, “Thank you.” “Thanks Pen,” you gave her a smile before turning back to Rooster.

“Tell ‘em I’m heading out. I know if I do it I won’t be able to leave.” You gave him a one armed hug and turned to Maverick, “See you in the morning, Captain.”

“See you in the morning, Rockstar.”

Penny gently squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile as you slid off the bar stool and walked out.

Rooster, Maverick, and Penny watched you leave the building before turning to each other, concern written all over their faces.

“Is she okay? She’s been acting a little off ever since dogfight football the other day,” Penny asked the two pilots.

They both shrugged, Bradley looking up at her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I’ve noticed, but I thought it was just because Harvard and Yale had to eject the other day,” Mav admitted. “We were all a little shaken up by that…”

It was silent for a minute.

“You know… if one person knows anything, it’d probably be Seresin,” Penny said, pointing over to the pilot, who was very invested in the game he was winning, and basically suggesting that they talk to him.

Bradley sighed, knowing that Penny was right and if anyone knew you the best, it would be him. He grabbed the tray, thanking Penny and walking over to the group.

They all cheered when he sat the tray down, taking a glass for themselves.

Jake noticed that there was an extra and he frowned in confusion before he realized it was for you.

He looked up, eyes searching for you in the crowd, panicking a little when he couldn’t see you, “Where’s Rockstar?”

Rooster sighed, “She closed her tab and left. Said she reached her limit.”

Fanboy frowned a little bit, “Why didn’t she just tell us herself?”

Rooster shrugged, “Said if she did it would take longer for her to leave.”

“Does she seem different to you guys?” Coyote asked, finally voicing his concern that had buit up over the last few days.

The group shared a look before making small noises of agreement.

“I mean, she’s still the same Y/N. Still lighting up a room and being there for us like she always has been… I just… I don’t know.”

Rooster looked at Jake, “Hangman, you’re like her best friend, do you know anything?”

Jake shrugged and shook his head, “All I know is she’s nervous for tomorrow and the accident the other day shook her up a bit, but she hasn’t said anything else.”

He took a large gulp from his beer, hoping to swallow the confession of seeing your scar that he wanted to bring to light. You trusted Jake and he wasn’t about to ruin that by telling the squad what he saw when he wasn’t even supposed to know it was there.

Meanwhile, you walked the beach, taking in the fresh and salty air. You just needed the quiet time before you went home.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, seeing a text from Hangman and laughing slightly at the message.

Hangboy: Hey, I get that I kicked your ass those last few rounds of pool, but you could have told me you were leaving. I would have walked you out. Text me when you get home.

Also, there was an extra beer. I assume it was meant for you, but you left so I drank it. Don’t worry though, I can handle it.

You shook your head and opened your phone, but not to text Jake.

You went to your contacts and pressed the caller ID, putting the phone to your ear as it rang.

“Hey, Rockstar, what's up? It’s been awhile.”

You smiled, sighing, “Sure has been, Tundra. How are you? How’s the little one?” “I’m good. Ben is great, he wants to know when you’ll be by again to visit.”

You giggled at the fact the 6 year old wanted to see you. “Soon… hopefully.” “Y/N, I know that voice. Is it happening again?” You shook your head, despite the fact that Tundra couldn’t see you.

“No, no. Well, sorta, but this is different Diego.” You heard him shift, presumably crossing his arms. “What do you mean?”

You sighed, remembering that you couldn’t share all that much about the mission, even if he was former Navy.

“I don’t know how much I can tell you. But I got called back to TopGun, and I could be flying out on a mission tomorrow. A dangerous one.”

“Y/N, do they know?”

You shook your head again, this time to fight tears. “No, but I’m scared that mid air, I’m gonna freeze. I don’t wanna freeze, Diego. I haven’t frozen since our incident. But I don’t know what’s been wrong these past couple of weeks. I can’t seem to shake off this dread… this-this fear. I do-don’t-”

He cut you off, “Have you talked to anyone recently?”

You were silent and he took that as a no. “Y/N, you have to talk about it if you ever want to move past it.” “I did though. I had mandated therapy for my entire time in recovery.” “And have you been since you recovered?”

You threw a hand up, frustrated, “I thought I was past it! I hadn’t had an attack in a year, not until we were playing football. I-I thought it was just a one time thing, and then something happened during training and I just-”

You were cut off by a small, tired voice.

“Is that Aunt Y/N?”

“It is. Do you want to talk to her? I think she needs to talk to you.” “Yes, please!” You smiled as you heard the phone go to speaker and then be passed to the little boy.

“Hey, Aunt Y/N!”

You smiled, tears finally falling, “Benarino, hey buddy.” “I miss you. When are you coming to visit?” You wiped at your eyes with a shaking hand. “Soon, buddy. Really soon,” you sniffled.

“Aunt Y/N, why are you crying?”

You laughed, coughing a little at the end, “I just really miss you Benny. I can’t wait to see you.”

You looked back at the Hard Deck, seeing your fellow pilots laugh and sing.

“I’m gonna bring a friend too. If that’s okay with your mom and dad?” “That’s alright with me, Rockstar. I’m sure Lila won’t mind.”

“Who is it?”

You brought playfulness into your voice, “You remember the pilot I told you about? The one that thought he could fly better than your Aunt Rocky?”

The little boy giggled, “Yeah!” “Well, I think it’s about time you brought home the boy that stole your heart.”

“Diego,” you hissed. “We are just friends.” “Mhmm, sure.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You should probably get Ben to bed before Lila wakes up.”

You heard Diego grunt as he picked up his son, “Goodnight Benny Boy.” “G’night Aunt Y/N.”

“Call me when you make it back.” You nodded, hand sliding into your back pocket, “Yeah, of course. Night Tundra.” “Night Rockstar.”

The call ended and you slid your phone into your unoccupied back pocket.

You took in a deep breath, trying to relax again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out.

On an inhale, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils and it made you hold your breath.

Quickly looking around, you spotted a bonfire a couple yards away. Realizing it was harmless, you let out the breath and tried to relax your shoulders.

But, despite knowing it was completely harmless, your body went into a state of panic. Your chest tightened, limbs went numb, pain spread through your back, and tears filled your eyes.

You held a hand to your chest, the air stopping just before it made it to your lungs, and stumbled to your car as fast as you could, hoping you weren’t seen by your friends inside the bar.

Jake looked at his phone as he left the bar. You hadn’t texted him, and by now you definitely should have been back to your on base bungalow.

Hangman wasn’t going to panic, he knew you well enough that you would have texted or called him if something bad happened. Of course he felt anxious, who wouldn’t, but he was going to remain calm.

The reason you hadn’t texted him when you got home was because the moment you fumbled yourself into your place, you booked it for the bathroom.

Your knees smacked into the tile and you threw up whatever alcohol you had consumed before the strangled sob ripped itself from your throat. You crumbled to the tile as your chest refused to let air in.

Your skin felt hot and sticky, sweat coating it as you laid on your bathroom floor. It wasn’t helping you, your damp, hot skin sending you back to one of the worst days of your life.

So, in a frenzy, you ripped off your shirt and kicked off your shoes and socks before yanking your pants off, not even loosening your belt.

You crawled over the tub wall, too dizzy to properly stand, before fumbling with the knob to turn the water on.

Once you got it turned on, you jostled the faucet switch, a desperate sob escaping as it kept falling down before it finally stuck, turning the shower on and drenching you in water.

And that was how Jake found you.

Jake decided to stop by your place and check on you, that being his only option to get his anxiety to go away.

When he pulled up to your place and saw your car there, he let out a breath of relief.

He parked his truck behind your car and ran to your door, his chest lighter than before.

But his chest became heavy again when he made it to your door only to find it unlocked. You rarely left your door unlocked, if ever.

He cautiously pushed it open, looking around to see if anything was out of place.

Your keys were on the floor, your phone and wallet not too far from them.

Jake walked further in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

He held his breath as he looked for you. But his search was cut short when he heard the shower running.

He exhaled and had to take a minute to calm the drumming in his chest.

He cautiously walked to the bathroom, making sure to knock before walking in. He kept his head down so he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to… again.

“Hey I was-”

The door stopped, hitting something on the floor.

Hangman squinted his eyes in confusion. It was your shoe. He kicked it out of the way and pushed the door open enough for him to just step in and close it.

He stopped with his hand on the door, realizing that the room didn’t feel like a sauna. There was no fog covering the mirrors and steam wasn’t filling the small space. You always showered hot, and right now the bathroom was freezing.

Jake finally looked up and saw you curled in the shower, the water cascading from the faucet and hitting your back. It was obvious you had been there for a while because you were shivering.

Jake sat on the edge of the tub cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

His heart broke at the sound of your quiet crying and the puffy redness of your eyes was a sight Jake never wanted to see again.

The eyes that usually held the brightness of the stars and a kindness that was unmatched, were now red, distant, and constantly filled with tears that fell over and mixed with the water drenching you.

He hated it.

Jake held his hand under the water and recoiled at how cold it was.

“Shit,” he cursed as he quickly turned it off.

When you didn’t react, he knew you truly weren’t in this reality.

“Y/N,” he spoke gently and touched your arm. He sharply inhaled when he discovered how cold you were. “Y/N, darlin’, we need to dry you off and get you in some warm clothes. You’ll get sick.”

Jake wasn’t sure if you heard him because you just stared ahead, biting on your nail. He sighed and pulled your hand away from your mouth.

He moved to pull his hand back but you grabbed it, your freezing cold hand latching onto his warm one. “Please don’t… Jake, please don’t leave.”

Your voice was quiet and broken, raw with fear. And he was sure that sent a shiver up his back.

Jake quickly shifted to kneel beside the tub, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand. “I’d never leave you hangin’.”

He looked you over, “Can I pick you up?” You nodded, letting his hand slip from your grip and feel it wrap under your legs.

He awkwardly shifted to lean over and pick you up, grunting a little as stood up. He was too pressed about his clothes getting wet, he’s sure he’s got pants somewhere around here.

Jake managed to open the bathroom door and walked to your bedroom.

He sat you on the bed and quickly grabbed the towel on the back of your desk chair.

Wrapping it around you, Jake kissed the top of your head. “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he spoke gently against your hair.

He pulled back and watched you bite your lip to keep your tears hidden.

You avoided his eyes, looking at your shaking hands.

“I’m gonna get you some clothes, okay?” You slowly nodded, lip trembling before you bit down on it again.

Your eyes didn’t follow him as he walked around your room, but your ears were very aware of Jake’s noises; everything from his footsteps to his mumbling.

In under five minutes, neatly folded clothes were placed beside you and Jake kneeled in front of you, his large hands resting on your biceps gently.

“Do you want me to stay while you change?”

It took you a second to register what he had asked, but he was patient and rubbed reassuring circles on your arms with his thumbs.

You inhaled, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you down a bit.

You were tempted to say yes, you didn’t want to be alone but you also didn’t want Jake to see you any more vulnerable than he already has.

You shook your head, unconsciously pulling the towel tighter around you.

Jake noticed it and nodded, “Okay, I’ll go tidy up your bathroom and throw some blankets in the dryer to fluff them up and get ‘em warm.” He gave you a small smile and stood, leaving the room and the door open just a crack.

You managed to peel off the wet bra and underwear, drying off before changing.

That simple task was exhausting. It felt like your bones had turned to rocks and your muscles no longer existed. But eventually, you did it.

You haphazardly dried your hair, basically just dry enough to where it wasn’t dripping, and walked into the small living room.

You sat on the couch, deciding to occupy your hands with your oversized shirt while you waited for Jake.

Minutes later he was on the couch beside you, wrapping you in the fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket.

“Thank you…” Your voice had a rawness to it that made Jake shiver, something was really wrong and he didn’t know how to help.

He nodded and rubbed your upper back, “Of course.”

He sat there for a moment, just listening to your sniffles and weeping exhales, before finally turning to face you.

“What’s going on? ‘Cause this-” He gestured to you and your current state. “-is way more than just nerves for tomorrow.”

“I’ll be-”

“If you say ‘fine’, I swear,” he sighed to control his volume. “Y/N, you are not fine.”

“Jake…”

The blond pilot took a deep breath, looking at the sliver of couch cushion between you. “I saw it…”

If you weren’t going to be honest, then he needed to be. Maybe what he saw is connected to what was shaking you to your core all of a sudden.

He finally looked up at you and watched your breathing halt as fear filled your eyes.

Jake continued, making sure to keep his tone even, “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for you in the locker room today and I-” He stopped talking when you choked out a small cry.

He immediately pulled you into his lap, one hand going to the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your lower back. “I got you… I got you.”

Jake closed his eyes and rocked you a little as his mind went back to the day these roles were reversed.

Jake had sat in the locker room, flight suit half off and tied around his waist. His knee bouncing as his eyes went in and out of focus.

“Hangman!” You called as you ran down the hall. But he couldn’t hear you with the blood still rushing in his ears.

“Hangman! Hang- There you are!” You jogged to him and saw that his emerald eyes were blank, not the playful or confident eyes you normally saw. “Hey, Hang- Jake what’s wrong?” You knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it.

Jake looked at you, the concern swimming in your eyes breaking whatever resolve he had left.

The tears he tried so hard to hold in finally spilled down his cheeks.

You instantly cupped his face in your hands, wiping them away, “What’s got you so shaken up? I’ve never seen you like this.”

He shook his head, pushing your hands away as he sat up and leaned against the locker. “You’re not supposed to.”

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, “What happened up there?”

Jake wiped the still flowing tears, shaking his head, “I don’t know. I guess- Fuck I don’t know, Rockstar.”

You stood, “Talk to me, Jake. Please, I’m your friend and I want to help.”

Your tone was desperate and worried. This was a new version of Jake that you would have never seen if you hadn’t followed him off the tarmac.

Hangman finally got the guts to grab your hand and squeeze it. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself.

“I almost lost you up there. You’re one of my closest friends, we’ve only known each other for a few months and I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I never let myself be that close to anyone, but you made it so easy.”

His voice was raw and shaky. He was scared, but you couldn’t blame him. What just happened to you both was really intense and it was scary. But you were both okay.

You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft but encouraging smile.

“Can we just- Shit this is gonna sound so weird…”

You knew where he was going, so you straddled his legs and wrapped him in a hug. “I got you Jake, I got you.”

That was when Jake realized the backstory to your call sign. You were everyone’s rock. You kept everyone sane, even at the expense of yourself.

Which is why you were currently shaking and sobbing in his arms. You never sought out comfort for your problems, a bad habit you picked up in high school. You always put everyone first, and you had it in your head that you couldn’t be vulnerable.

You pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes, “I’m sorry…”

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?”

“Because I-”

“Because you’re being vulnerable in front of someone?” You nodded, unconsciously playing with your fingers. “Look at me, please.” You did, biting your lip to hold your tears in.

“You are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared. You shouldn’t have to hide your feelings from your friends. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to us.”

You nodded, staying silent, focusing on how Jake had moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek to rub his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone.

Your silence broke his heart a little bit, making him think you didn’t trust him. But he knew he had to be patient with you.

He goes to move his hand away but you hold it there. “I thought I was over it…”

“Over what, Sweetheart?”

“The accident…”

Jake pushed some hair behind your ear, “What accident?”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped them away as he spoke softly, “Take your time…” You nodded, swallowing as you tried to catch your bearings.

“A year before I was stationed with you, I was flying a mission. It was dangerous, but still fairly routine. On my way out, I got hit. It completely destroyed my weapons system. Before I could get back up, I was hit again. This time it took out my engine.” You took another deep breath, looking up at the ceiling.

“We were dropping altitude fast and my WSO and I had to eject. We landed on a beach, we unbuckled so fast,” you chuckled, remembering the relief you and Diego felt before the shit hit the fan.

Jake smiled a little bit at the sound, but dropped it when you started talking again.

“However the jet had also crashed onto the beach too. The fuel had leaked and caused an explosion. I covered my WSO, and a piece of scrap metal lodged itself into my back.”

Jake’s eyes widened, more dots connecting in his mind, “You’re the pilot the squad was talking about at the bar…”

You nodded, wiping your eyes, “Jake, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just… when I was in recovery, if I wanted to fly again, I had to go through therapy. And I haven’t had an attack in a year…” You got choked up again, hot tears rolling down your face, “Hang, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, using both of his hands to wipe your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry. Do I wish you would have told me sooner? Hell yeah, but I understand why you didn’t.” You just nodded and relaxed into his hands.

“What happens when you have an attack?”

You took a sharp inhale through your nose before sighing it out, “It depends. I sometimes get flashbacks of the beach, everytime I close my eyes I just see fire and it’s fucking terrifying. Other times, when it gets really bad, I can feel pain in my back, but that’s rare.”

You bit your lip a little as you looked away, and Jake knew, “That happened tonight didn’t it?” You nodded, coughing a little bit, “Yeah, uh, yeah it did.”

“Was it because we talked about-”

“No," you said quickly. "W-well, I mean kinda… yeah. But there was a bonfire happening on the beach, and just the two things… my brain went into panic mode. Before you ask, I don’t really know what triggers it. But during dogfight football-”

Jake’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Exactly, Jake, you had no idea. It’s not your fault. It was just the pressure on my scar made me panic, and I was back on that damned beach. But I’m not mad or upset with you because you had no idea. So don’t beat yourself up, please.”

Jake nodded, bringing you into a hug again, being mindful of the scar. “Jake, you can touch it. I know I’m safe.” He said nothing and brought a hand to run over the covered scar before tightening his hug.

“Can you tell me about him? Your WSO?”

You nodded, “Diego Harding, call sign Tundra. He has a wife and a son.”

“That’s why you-”

“Yeah, that’s why I covered him. He had a family to go back to.”

“What about you?”

You sighed again, using Jake’s shoulders to sit up, “Most of my family served. My dad was killed in action when I was young. My mom died when I was a teenager, leaving Piers to raise me for a little bit. Then Piers goes and sacrifices himself… so I didn’t have anyone to come home too.”

You shrugged and got off his lap, but snuggled into his side.

He rubbed lazy circles on your bicep. “Well now you do.” You looked up at him confused, “What?”

“You’ve got me to come home to, and I’ve got you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Don’t get sappy on me, Seresin.” He just chuckled.

It was silent for a moment.

“Promise me that you’ll do your best to fly back to me,” he asked in a hushed whisper as if he were telling you a secret.

“Only if you do,” you whispered back.

He held out his pinky, “I promise.” You nodded, interlocking your pinky with his, “I promise too.”

“Can’t break that now, you know,” he chuckled, squeezing your pinky a little. You giggled a little before yawning, “I know, cowboy.”

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

Dog Fight || Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (18+)

You fucked me so good I almost said, “I love you”

Prompt: You and Rooster had fling during your first time at top gun. It ended with you both swearing you never caught feelings and going zero contact. Now, when you’re both called back to Top Gun, you spend two weeks denying your feelings until they all come rushing to the surface.

Warnings: Blood (just a nosebleed, briefly mentioned), smut, unprotected sex, brief choking, soft dom rooster.

Reader’s callsign is Hyde (i.e jeckyll &)

…

“So, is no one else going to mention the burning sexual tension between Rooster and Hyde?”

You turn your head and stare through Hangman, hoping that this is enough to intimidate him into shutting his pretty-boy mouth. He grin widens the moment he realises he’s gotten under your skin.

It takes everything not to take the pen in your hand and launch it at his head.

It wouldn’t usually bother you. It’s just that it’s Rooster. Not only that, but it’s the fact that Rooster is sitting one row behind you — and he’s wearing the same goddamn cologne he wore back then, and you hate to admit that the scent of him still gets you a little bit excited.

You were talking to Coyote in the Hard Deck when you smelled it first. A soft white musk scent. You had known it was Rooster before you even turned around. Just one intake of that surprisingly soft, enthralling scent and suddenly you were back in the barracks of North Island’s base, his palm over your mouth and your knees over his shoulders.

“Leave ‘em alone, Rooster’s blushing.” Payback adds into the teasing. You turn, maybe a little too quickly, to check. Rooster’s hazel eyes meet yours and he’s blank-faced. Maybe there’s a little rose hue to his cheeks, but there always is.

“Come on, when are you two just going to admit that you want to screw each other’s brains out?” Hangman continues, his arm resting across the back of the chair next to him.

“Or that you’ve already fucked.” Bob joins in and the group goes silent. Rooster’s brows furrow. Everyone looks equally stunned for a moment and you’re so grateful that the attention is off of you because Bob just said his first swear word, maybe ever.

Once the initial shock of Bob’s first curse word wears off, Hangman’s brow quirks at the notion that the two of you may have already slept together. He honestly can’t believe he didn’t think of that himself.

“Now that is quite the thought, Bob,” Hangman turns in his seat and leans closer, “Didn’t I hear that you two kids were in Top Gun together the first time around?”

“Aviators!” Maverick’s voice carries across the hangar, interrupting the gentle bullying that has been happening. Rooster sighs in relief behind you. You turn your head just slightly, glancing at him over your shoulder.

His eyes are still on you.

“Today’s exercise is all about team work,” Maverick begins explaining before he has even reached the front of the room. Everyone’s face slowly reflects their confusion as they realise he’s not in uniform. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. “You guys suck at working as a team and today we’re gonna take a little field trip to figure that out. Meet at the beach in front of the Hard Deck at 9am sharp.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you pull up to the Hard Deck’s parking lot and see Phoenix and Bob sitting on the hood of Phoenix’s Porsche, waiting for you.

You look at what they’re wearing.

“Phoenix, tell me we aren’t working out!” You call as you pull the keys from the ignition. It’s almost eighty degrees — you had assumed it was going to be an icebreaker type of day.

Phoenix presses a hand over her mouth as she takes in the flimsy bikini top you’re wearing. You’ve got a button up over it, and black shorts on your bottom half — but the two of you both know that you’re less than appropriately dressed for the day.

“Didn’t you get Mav’s text?” Bob asks, he sounds almost like he feels bad for you.

You grab your phone from the hands free set inside of the car and check, shaking your head, “No?”

“Dogfight football, he sent a text to everyone so they would know what to bring.” Bob explains as he and Phoenix hop down from the hood of her car. You check the time, it’s 8:58. No time to change.

“Please switch with me.” You put your hands together in a prayer-like motion and step quickly toward Phoenix. She laughs and shakes her head just as quickly,

“Fuck no!”

You groan. You take a moment, eyes closed, to prepare yourself for the morning you’re about to endure. You button the shirt, letting out a breath and pretending that you’ve composed yourself.

“Alright. Fine,” You agree, “Let’s get this over with.”

You regroup on the beach, Maverick has already begun talking by the time the three of you join the back of the crowd.

Rooster is off to the left. Your eyes linger. He’s a head and shoulders taller than Harvard, standing at his side. He’s tanned, ripped and practically glowing. His hair is more sunkissed than when you last saw him, it’s curlier too.

Phoenix follows your gaze, craning her head to see, spotting Rooster. She turns her head back to you and raises her eyebrow suggestively, her lips quirking up into a smirk. All of her suspicions are confirmed at once.

You shake your head at her, rolling your eyes as if she isn’t right about it all.

The game begins. Rooster’s on the other team. You kind of wish he was on yours, you know you’d have less contact that way. You last maybe fifteen minutes before the overshirt becomes unbearable in the heat.

“C’mon, Hyde — can’t striptease to distract us just ‘cause you’re losing!” Harvard calls out as you slip the material off of your shoulders and toss it down on top of Bob’s backpack for safe keeping. You smile at him and raise your middle finger.

The bikini top is a simple unlined black piece that ties behind your neck and between you shoulder blades. The lack of support is unmatched.

You do your best to minimise the movement, but you also refuse to let your team lose because of your bad choice of clothing. The red ball lands in your hands and you take off running.

Coyote is on your left and Payback’s on your right. They’re both so tall, their legs are longer than yours and they’re gaining on you as you break into a sprint toward your team’s end zone.

Your foot makes it over the line and you throw the ball at the ground, spinning and throwing your arms into the air, jumping in celebration. Phoenix laughs as she tackles you into a hug from behind, both of you stumbling, happy as you try to catch your footing.

You feel eyes on you and your laughter stops. Rooster’s wearing sunglasses but his eyes are on you. Well, they’re on your chest. They flicker back up to your face and he realises he’s caught. He turns quickly and pretends to be immersed in the game.

You swallow, shaking your head. You’re broken from the moment, laughing as Coyote playfully jibes at your touchdown celebration, pretending to bounce around in the sand before you.

You playfully barge his shoulder and press forward with the game. You try your hardest, but you can’t ignore the way your eyes keep meeting his.

Rooster scores the next touchdown for his team — it’s like he’s been trying extra hard since your touchdown. His celebration is similar to yours, but more macho. You are stilled in place at the sight before you as he and Coyote collide mid-air.

He’s laughing, stumbling just a little as his feet hit the sand again. You watch as he dances under the burning sun, performing — much to Coyote’s delight. Rooster has the other pilot in fits of laughter with his little shimmy.

Maybe you should be laughing too. At anyone else you would be. There’s just something so familiar about watching those muscles in his stomach ripple and contract.

Your mouth goes dry at the thought.

You haven’t let yourself think about him like that in three years. You and Rooster had been in Top Gun together the first time around. He was a couple of years older than you — partially because he was held back a few years early on in his career and partially because you were particularly skilled for your age, so had gotten there early.

Top Gun is a thirteen week programme. For twelve weeks, Rooster was yours. Secretly, of course. You couldn’t let anyone know that he’d gotten you into bed so easily.

Twelve weeks in the San Diego heat. Sneaking around. Stolen kisses in storage lockers, condom wrappers in the waste baskets in Admirals’ offices, him sneaking out of your room each morning before sunrise. You walking with a slight limp on the way to training that one morning.

You hadn’t ever been anything exclusive and neither of you had brought up such nonsense for the entire programme. Until the night before graduation, when Rooster had asked you ‘what comes next?’ whilst he had been inside of you.

You still remember that fight. Both of you storming off, slamming doors and cursing at each other. You were still pissed off that he hadn’t even finished.

You’re broken from your stream of explicit memories as Yale trips into you whilst running to catch the ball. His elbow hits the bridge of your nose as he swings out his arms to catch his balance. You both hit the sand.

You don’t even really make a noise, beside the initial startled gasp. You blink, waiting for the pain to really hit you.

“Fuck, Hyde, I’m so sorry - I didn’t see you.”

You feel a wet droplet hit your chest, bringing your hand up to touch tenderly at your nose. Then the pain hits you. You wince, pulling your hand back and finding your fingers are bloodied.

“Oh, shit, she’s bleeding.” You aren’t sure who makes the announcement but Rooster’s standing before you next. You’re on your ass in the sand, blinking up at him. He watches a droplet of blood hit your chest and slide across your breast.

“Come on.” He extends a hand — the first words he’s said to you since the two of you had gotten here two weeks ago. You reach out and put your palm in his, letting him help you to your feet.

“You alright, Hyde?” Maverick pushes through the crowd that has gathered around you. He reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder, features creased with concern.

You open your mouth to answer him but are interrupted by a sudden head rush. You stumble, snapped back to reality as Rooster’s fingers curl around your biceps and steady you.

“Woah, careful — uh, Rooster, could you take her up and ask Penny to take a look at her for me?”

Rooster looks between you and Maverick. Your lips are parted and bloodied but your eyes are on him. So trusting and pretty. He shoots Maverick a look. Maverick knows who you are. He knows all about the girl who broke his nephew’s heart at North Island.

“Yeah, I got her.” Rooster agrees. Whatever happened between the two of you was three years ago, he reminds himself. Plus, it’s not like he wants anyone else to head up there with you. Maverick passes a key into Rooster’s hand.

You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, shaking your head and swallowing, the taste of copper on your tongue, “No, I’m fine, seriously.”

“Y/N, you’re not coming back until Penny gives me the all clear.” Maverick is stern with his answer.

Rooster’s thumbs stroke at your biceps, he’s still the only thing keeping you upright, “Can you walk?” You nod.

He grabs your overshirt from Bob’s backpack and nods for you to follow him. You trip just slightly as the damp sand becomes soft sand near the top of the beach — it’s nothing to do with your fall and everything to do with the fact that you aren’t watching where you’re going. Yet, Rooster’s hand slides around your waist immediately.

“I can carry you.” He offers.

“I know.” You mumble in return, pinching your nose to stop the constant stream of blood.

Rooster looks at you and smiles just slightly. He unlocks and holds open the front door to the Hard Deck for you and motions you in. You take a seat at the bar, leaning across and grabbing some napkins, holding them up against your still bleeding nose.

“Penny?” Rooster calls out. He leaves your side for a moment to search the bar for her, poking his head into the back room. He shakes his head as he realises she must be on the beach.

“Wait here.”

You shrug. Still bleeding, you weren’t planning on going anywhere anyway. He disappears into the back room for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. This bar has its fair share of incidents. Rooster pulls up a stool in front of you, nudging your knees apart so he can sit as close as possible.

You lean your head back.

“No, don’t do that,” Rooster’s fingers curl around the back of your neck as he guides your head forward, pointing your nose back toward the ground. He feels you tense up, releasing you immediately. “You’re supposed to lean forward.”

He leans across the bar and scoops some ice into a plastic bag, then wraps that in a napkin.

“Move your hand for me.” You do as he says, hissing quietly as he rests his makeshift cold compress against the bridge of your nose. You press the tissues to your nostrils, still bleeding.

“You okay?” He asks quietly. You look up at him and shrug, “Been better.”

He chuckles, nodding his head, “Yeah, you hit the ground pretty hard.”

“You saw?” You’re inexplicably embarrassed by that. Rooster has seen you in most positions, but the thought of him seeing you get knocked on your ass makes you groan and squeeze your eyes shut. Until you realise it hurts to shut your eyes like that.

“Saw you checking me out.”

Your cheeks burn. You look at him furiously. He’s smirking, “I was not.” Your tone is a smidge defensive.

Rooster chuckles and shrugs his broad, tanned, bare shoulders, “So how come you didn’t see Yale sprinting down the pitch at you, baby?” You squeeze your thighs together. It’s been so long since you heard him call you that.

“The sun was in my eyes.” You answer a little too quickly.

“The sun that was behind me, was in your eyes? — so you were looking at me.” He has you there. You give in, caught for a moment.

“Hey, I saw you looking at me too. After I scored.” You counter. Rooster smiles at you, brushing your hair back away from the injury. His sunglasses mask it well, but you catch his eyes glance down at your chest.

“Can you blame me?” It’s hot and his voice makes you want to melt faster than the ice in his compress. “It’s been a while since I saw them bounce like that.”

You kick his shin, trying to hide the fact that you’re thrilled that he has brought it up. “Pig.” You chastise playfully.

“Just brought back some memories is all.” His lips are just hinting at a smile. You brush your ankle against his, putting your foot on the footrest of his stool. You wonder if he can tell that you’re so happy that he remembers it all as clearly as you do. He can. You look like the cat that got the cream. But bloodier.

“Good memories?”

Rooster lets out an amused huff, taking the compress away from your nose and inspecting the bridge delicately. It’s tender, but both of you know it isn’t broken. He fishes his phone from the pocket of his tight shorts and turns on the flash.

Your lips part in surprise as he reaches out and grabs your chin. He leans in close. You hold your breath. He lifts the phone and shines the torch into your eye, making you flinch and pull away.

“Come on, I need to check if you have a concussion or not.” He grips your jaw and turns you back to face him. He knows exactly what he’s doing, you realise. He leans close again and you breathe him in.

He lifts the phone and shines the flashlight into each pupil, his grip on your jaw keeping your eyes on him.

“You seem fine to me,” He decides, “You feel okay?”

You pull the tissue away from your nose, pleased to find that the bleeding has stopped, and nod at him. He grabs a set of antibacterial wipes from the kit and lifts your chin once more. You’re silent, just watching him as he cleans you up.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Rooster mumbles, making you blush. You furrow your eyebrows at him,

“Like what?”

“You’re the one who walked away, Hyde.” Rooster reminds you calmly as he wipes the blood from your lips, his other hand on your chin, keeping you still for him.

“I didn’t walk away — I just said that I wasn’t sure!” You protest. Rooster rolls his eyes,

“If I remember correctly, you actually said, ‘What? You thought I was going to fall in love with you or something?’” He mocks your voice as he talks and you narrow your eyes at him. You kick his shin again, a little harder this time.

You know that what you said was kind of mean, but he had you backed into a corner by that point in the argument and you were really frustrated.

“It was just sex!” You blurt out. The same thing you had said three years ago. Rooster stills his hand, the wipe resting on your breast as his brown eyes stare into you.

He gives you a slow, curt nod and sets the wipe down on the side. You sigh as he pushes himself up from the stool, “Rooster, wait-“

He drops the key Maverick gave him onto the bar, “Lock up when you’re done, kid.” You glare at him. He knows you hate it when he says that shit to you. He’s just a couple of years older. You watch him tuck his stool in and turn to leave.

“Rooster, come on, you know I didn’t mean-“

He slams the front door behind him. You growl in frustration as you push yourself up from your stool. He always was such a drama queen.

By the time you make it outside, your shirt balled up in your hand, he’s across the parking lot and headed down the beach in the opposite direction from the group. They’re still playing and they haven’t noticed the two of you yet. You look at them, then back at him, and take off jogging down the beach.

It takes you a while to catch up, he’s already across the cove and standing on the rocks by the time you catch him.

“Fuck, could you slow down for a second?” You pant as you clamber up the rocks. He ignores you and drops down onto the other side. This beach is empty, he continues along its shore away from you. “Rooster!”

He turns finally, in time to see you wobbling as you try to drop down the same way he did. Rooster walks slowly back toward you until he’s towering over you, “If you tell me it was just sex one more fucking time, y/l/n, I’m gonna lose it.”

You smile softly, trying to deescalate, “It was just-“

Rooster grabs your face in his hands and crashes his lips to yours, your back hitting the wall of rock behind you. You hum in surprise as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

The kiss is all anger and hard breathing at first, until Rooster grips the nape of your neck and licks into your mouth. The jagged rocks behind you press harder into your skin as he pushes himself harder against you. You tug at him eagerly, dropping your shirt onto the rocks. Rocks be damned, you want him as close to you as possible.

His hands slide between your bodies and pop open the button to your shorts, dragging the zipper down. You pull away from his lips, breathing hard. You’re looking at him like he’s crazy, reaching out and grabbing his hands to still him, “Here?”

“Live a little.” He murmurs, pressing his lips forward again slipping his tongue into your mouth. You hook your thumbs into the sides of your shorts as you shimmy them down, leaving you in the bikini before him.

He’s seen you in much less, but your cheeks heat as he pulls back and skims his fingers along your waist, taking in everything that’s different and everything that’s the same all at once.

“Stop staring, you’re making me nervous.” You complain, pushing your hips forward against his. Rooster’s hands come up and grope at your breasts as he pushes his body against you, “God, I missed you.” He admits, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You gasp as he tugs at the string behind your back, pushing his hands under the material of the flimsy black bikini. You whine softly against his lips. His hips press you back against the rocks whilst his thumbs brush delicately over your nipples. He stifles a groan as he feels them harden against his fingers.

Rooster pulls back for just a moment, to rip that stupid thing off of you and then duck his head down to suck your nipple into his mouth. You close your eyes, catching your breath as he nips and sucks at your breasts.

You’re so focused on that, you don’t even notice his right hand trailing your side until it’s already between your legs and nudging the bikini bottoms to the side. You gasp as he sinks a finger into you, the pad of his thumb pressing to your clit like he hadn’t ever been away. He knows your body like he knows how to fly.

“Shut the fuck up.” Rooster breathes, straightening up and looking down at you through those gold sunglasses. You tremble, nodding at him and taking your lip between your teeth. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like this.”

You whimper as he sinks to his knees before you, nipping at your ribs, grazing his teeth across your hip bones. Rooster smiles just slightly as you take the sunglasses off his face and trail your fingertips across his cheek. You’re always so gentle.

He pulls the bottoms even more to the side, lifting one leg over his shoulder and burying his face between your legs. You take a sharp breath at the sudden contact, sliding your fingers into his curls. The sun hits his eyes as he looks up at you, they look especially brown in the midday sun, amber and shining.

He feels you clench around his fingers as he adds a second, groaning quietly against your core. You lean your head back against the rocks behind you, closing your eyes and just letting him touch you. His fingers work you open while his mouth focuses on your clit.

“Rooster, please just fuck me.” You whisper, tugging delicately at his roots. Rooster plunges his fingers into you, twisting them expertly and making you gasp.

He looks at you expectantly.

“Please.” Your voice cracks slightly, desperation never more evident. Rooster straightens up and pulls you against him, his cock strains against your navel through his denim shorts as his lips move against yours.

You know that the two of you have a limited time out here in the open like this. Your last time was unfinished and you had been walking around frustrated by that for three years. There had been instances in between with other people, but no one who could finish what Rooster had started.

Your fingers work at the button on his shorts, you’re trembling and it takes some willpower to have your hands comply. You manage to pop the button open, dragging the zipper down and pushing at the waistband of his boxers and shorts together.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Rooster murmurs against your throat, his breath hitting you ear and making you shiver against you. He grabs your undershirt from the rock and drops it onto the sand, wrapping one arm around your waist.

You hum as he presses your back into the sand, then you gasp as he turns you onto your stomach. That’s what the shirt was for, your cheek rests against it - protected from the sand - as he lifts your hips.

You feel him pushing his shorts down behind you, pushing your hips back and feeling his exposed cock brush your core. Rooster revels in the desperate sound you make as he drags his cock between your folds, his lip between his teeth as he watches the tip sink into you.

“Fuck,” Rooster breathes out, fingers curling around your hip as he watches his dick disappear into you. You watch him over your shoulder. He’s so focused, brows furrowed and his lips parted just slightly. “Missed seeing you like this, baby.”

You push back against him eagerly, gasping as he pulls almost all the way out and drives back in, almost knocking you off of your knees and onto your stomach. You cry out, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt under you.

You feel him laugh breathily as he kisses your spine, “Gotta shut that pretty mouth, Hyde.” Easy enough for him to say. He’s relentless, dragging against your walls as he bottoms out again and again. You’re doing your best to keep quiet for him.

He pulls you tighter against him and presses his chest to your back, dragging his lips across your shoulder.

“Rooster, holy-“ A strangled noise escapes your throat as your knees buckle under you, the only thing keeping you from hitting the sand being his grip on your waist. “Shit.”

The breath is knocked from you as he pounds into you, you’re a whimpering mess, face pressed into the crook of your arm and his hand on the back of your neck keeping you there.

Rooster grunts, leaning forward and pressing filthy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of your back. You push back against him desperately.

He pulls out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact. He turns you and plants your ass onto the shirt, tugging at your hips until your head falls back against the sand.

“Want to see that pretty face when you cum.” He murmurs, guiding his cock between your legs again. Your heart flutters as his palm slides up to rest at the base of your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, he just leaves it there, making sure you’re going to be still for him.

You arch your back, pushing your chest up against his as he fills you up. You push against his hand on your throat, grinning as he presses you back down against the sand.

“You like that?” He whispers. Your lips part as he drives himself impossibly deeper into you, squeezing his fingertips just slightly around the column of your throat. Both of you know that you do, he can feel you clenching around his cock.

You feel indecent under his unwavering gaze. No one has ever made you feel as wanted as Rooster. There’s always such desire in is eyes each time he looks at you. Everyone’s noticed it by now.

Rooster remembers suddenly why it was so fucking hard to let you go the first time around. Your pretty lips flushed and kiss-swollen, parted ever so slightly. Those gorgeous, trusting, eyes that twinkle with mischief each time your eyes are on him. Your pussy.

He grunts, his hips stuttering, “I can feel how fucking close you are, honey.” His thumb strokes at your throat as he leans down and slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips, breathing hard as he moves back to observe you again.

You had missed him. Had missed the way his curls hung over his forehead when he’s on top of you, the way he fills you up, his golden skin and the feel of his stupidly big hands on your body.

Maybe it’s the sun in your eyes, maybe it’s the intensity of it, but you’re seeing stars when he makes you cum. You don’t even realise you’re moaning his name until he moves his hand from your throat and covers your mouth.

“God, I love that sound.” He whispers, shaking his head slightly as you let out a muffled whimper against his palm. “But you gotta be quiet for me.” You nod, dazed as he takes his palm away and plants it in the sand behind your head.

“Fuck, Rooster,” You whimper, lifting your head and pressing a delicate kiss to his throat. “I-I…” You stop as you catch yourself in what you’re about to say. Your eyes widen at the realisation of what he almost just coaxed you into admitting.

Rooster doesn’t seem to notice, he rests his forehead against your shoulder, looking down between your bodies as he drives himself into you.

“D’you want me to pull out?” He kisses your collarbone in a surprisingly delicate motion, gripping your hips so tightly it feels like he might crush them.

“No.” You pant, maybe a little too quickly. You catch the smug look on his face as he glances up at you, you couldn’t care less — he should be smug, he’s the only person you’d ever let fuck you on a public beach during a work exercise.

He slides his hand around to cradle the base of your skull as he pulls you closer to him, picking up the pace. You whimper against his shoulder, sensitivity making you grip his bicep.

He groans softly against your throat as he comes undone, pulling impossibly close against him and driving himself as deep as he can go. He stays there for just a moment, leaving lazy kisses against the curve of your neck.

You whine as he slowly pulls out of you and tucks himself back into his shorts, zipping and buttoning the denim as he rises to his feet. You wobble as you push yourself up after him.

Rooster’s brows furrow as he watches you cover you chest with you hands whilst you grab your bikini top, “Are you serious?”

“I…”

Rooster walks to you and ties the bikini behind your back silently, then presses a kiss to your cheek, “You’re gonna have to start trusting me one of these days.”

“I do trust you.” You admitted, so quickly that it surprised even you. Your already warm cheeks burned. “I just…”

Rooster grabbed you shirt from the ground and shook the sand off of it, “I’m not asking you to tell me you love me, Hyde. Just… wouldn’t kill you to let me in.”

“I think I just did.” You muttered as you stepped into your shorts and buttoned them. Rooster’s palm hit your ass, his lips pressing gently against your shoulder as he handed you your shirt.

“Don’t get smart with me, L/N.” He grabbed his sunglasses and put them on once more, stepping up onto the rocks and offering you his hand. You take it and let him guide you back over the rocks until you’re on the sand, crossing the beach toward the hard deck.

You let him walk a little in front of you, both of you just walking at the speed your legs naturally carry you. His legs happen to carry him a little faster. You wonder what the hell that was back there. The urge to tell him you loved him.

It was confusing and even more terrifying. You shook your head and determined the cause to be some weird primal urge. Not the fact that you’d been thinking about him and your time together for the past three years.

“Do you think they’re all inside?” Rooster asks, noticing the crew are now gone from the beach. You cross in front of him, shrugging your shoulders and lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the sun as you try to spot someone through the windows.

Rooster sweeps sand from your back.

“Yeah, I see Payback.” You confirm, stopping to let him rid you of the evidence before the two of you head inside.

“Hyde, you okay? — where’d you go?” Maverick is the first to spot you, he’s just as concerned as he was before.

“Just needed some fresh air so we went for a walk.” You explain, pushing your hands into the pockets of your shorts. Rooster nods along in silent agreement.

You watch Bob elbow Phoenix, pulling her attention away from her conversation with Fanboy. Bob uses his beer to motion toward you and Rooster, but not towards your faces. You follow his gaze and look down at the matching imprints of sand on both of your knees.

You aren’t the best at reading lips, but it’s clear as day when Bob looks right at you and tells Phoenix, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

…

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #miles teller #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut

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mitchellpete · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 18 - Mirror sex

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: age gap, set during top gun: maverick, handjobs, penetration, dirty talk

word count: 1587

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

You awoke from your nap a few hours after dozing off on the couch. The sun had gone down in the midst of your slumber, moonlight pooling in through the window. There was a blanket draped over you now, one that you had not initially fallen asleep with. It smelled like fabric softener, the same one you used on Maverick’s clothes. Your half-lidded, sleepy eyes jolt open at the realization that he was home.

After stretching the knots in your body—the couch really isn’t too comfy for naps—you swing your legs over the side and immediately skip down the hall towards your bedroom. The house is quiet and chilly. You’re not sure what time it is, but you fully expect Maverick to be in bed, or settling down at least.

In your bedroom, Maverick is sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you.

Unable to contain your excitement after a long day without him, you exclaim, “Baby!”

He turns to look at you, a smile spreading on his face as you practically run and throw yourself at him from behind. You press your chest to his back, wrapping your arms around his frame. They settle on his chest, warm and damp from a shower. Your face peaks from behind his shoulders to meet him for a long-awaited kiss.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your lips, his smile still spread wide.

You pull back, aiming your kisses at his face instead. “When’d you get home?”

He blinks slowly, enjoying your kisses. “About half an hour ago. I had a busy day.”

The corner of his mouth, his chin, the underside of his jaw. Firm, but soft underneath your lips. “Mm? What’d you do?”

“Beach day with the kids,” he sighs. “Dogfight football.”

You pull back, cocking a brow. “Dogfight football?”

He nods, smiling hazily. “Offense and defense at the same time.”

You snicker, staring at his tired face. You give him a few more kisses, this time to his lips, deep and passionate. “I wish I was one of your students.”

“Mm.. I don’t,” he murmurs, amused. “I felt like an old man today. Had to sit and let them take over after a while.”

It’s when you glance up and find yourself face-to-face with your reflections that you get the idea. The mirror facing the bed gives you a clear cut view of the bottom half of Maverick’s body, clad in nothing but a towel from his shower.

“An old man, huh?” Your hands run up and down his pecs, massaging his skin.

Maverick leans back, relaxing against your body. Staring at yourself in the mirror, at the way your hands roam on his chest, excites something deep in your stomach. Your lips move to his shoulders, his skin golden from being out in the sun all day. You want him to see it too.

You let your hands roam further, fingers trailing down his abs. He jerks slightly when they prod inside the towel, pushing inside and ghosting over his hip bones. He lets out a little moan at your touch, sold. You grin.

Maverick chuckles at your eager hands, letting you unfold the towel from around his waist. The fabric falls, exposing his cock, soft against his thigh. He looks down, helps you move the towel out of the way before you stop him.

“No—” You swat his hands away and then reach for his face, directing it towards the mirror. “I’ll take care of you. Just look.”

He does as he’s told, staring right at his reflection. He breathes out sharply when you reach down to take his cock in your fist. You lean your chin against his shoulder, watching yourself along with him.

Maverick looks almost shy—eyes dancing from you to your hand, to the bewildered look on his face. His expression is even more priceless when you lean over his shoulder to let a bit of spit drip down, coating the tip just enough to smoothen your movements. Moving your thumb over his slit, he groans softly as you spread your spit all over the flushed head. When his cock begins to harden in your fist, your palm moves south, loosely gripping his shaft in shallow up and down strokes. You watch his face, his lips parted, his lashes heavy on his eyes as he feels the waves of pleasure jolting through him.

You add more pressure the more noises he makes, strokes quickening more and more. You watch him through the mirror, how his body jerks and how he’s trying very hard to keep his hips still. You continue pressing kisses to his shoulder, trailing up until your teeth graze his ear. He shudders, breathlessly moaning out your name.

It’s incredibly arousing to watch him come apart under your touch. He attempts to continue looking at you, though it’s difficult as he nears his orgasm, his eyes lidded in a daze.

“Look at me,” you whisper. Your wrist is slightly strained but it’s all or nothing now; his eyes flick to you again and it’s then that you stroke furiously, pace hard and quick. He chokes out a moan, watching his cum spurt out against his stomach just a minute later.

You press an open-mouthed kiss to his cheek, and then another on his jaw, biting slightly on the skin underneath his jawline. He shudders again, body nearly going slack from the quick and sudden orgasm.

You get another idea, pulling off of him and off the bed to strip yourself of your clothes. Panting, Maverick watches.

When you’re fully bare, you sink to your knees—your back to him—and immediately crouch down in front of the mirror. The rug digs at your knees but you try your best to arch for him, ass up. You watch through the mirror as he sinks to the floor with you, kneeling in your direction. Warm hands meet your ass and slide up around your waist. Making eye contact with you through the glass, he coats his fingers in enough saliva to easily rub you up and down. You’re so turned on that you’re sure you don’t need much prep, your walls already clenching around nothing. His fingers slide through your folds, your cunt growing slippery in arousal.

Only half-hard again, he strokes himself a couple times with the slick he’s gathered, hissing at the sensations.

When he slowly slips his cock inside, he forgets to keep looking at you. His eyebrows pulled together in white hot bliss, he looks down and watches as it disappears inside of you inch by inch. You allow him that momentarily, watching his face contort beautifully at the tight heat of your body.

When he’s fully situated inside of you, his hips pressed to your ass, you remind him, “Baby, look at me.”

He groans, low in the back of his throat, and raises his head to meet your eyes through the glass again.

You bite your lip, in awe at the picture in front of you. Maverick looks flushed, his muscles defined in the dim lighting, jaw clenched as the pleasure courses through his body. Best of all, there’s a look in his eye, one that reads of total submission. He’s all yours; he’s doing this for you. You should tell him how pretty he looks.

Feeling full makes it hard to speak. You wait for him to move, but it seems he’s taking it in, soaking up how good it feels to just rock shallowly like that inside of you, your walls adjusting around him.

“Fuck,” you whine. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

He groans again, his cheeks turning crimson at your words, the heat licking up his ears. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He starts moving, pays no mind to the slight oversensitivity from cumming just a couple minutes prior, and fucks you through it. His strokes are sloppy and messy, aiming for another quick orgasm but really just getting to watch you unfold in front of him too. You’re biting your lip, the sense of self-awareness slightly intimidating. You watch as your body rocks against his, his hips slamming against yours and rutting your knees forward on the carpet ever so slightly with each thrust. It burns, but the pleasure inside of you feels bigger and better, his stare edging you on quicker than you can process.

“Oh, fuck—Pete,” you whine out, “Fucking—look at you.”

He tries to keep his composure, bites down hard on his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle his noises until you start to rock your hips back to meet his thrusts. You watch his face, how close to the edge he gets every time your hips slam together.

Neither of you last very long; you hadn’t realized just how dizzying it is to look at everything unfolding in front of you. Maverick’s second orgasm hits him hard, and you watch as he pulls out and falls back against the edge of the bed in a heap of moans and curses, stroking every bit of cum out against his thigh (and the floor, you realize). Moaning through your own collapse, your knees give out from the rug burn. You curl up on the floor for a second, letting the sensation course through you, but Maverick reaches for you with a strong arm. He pulls you to him, your body eagerly sinking into his.

You laugh together, still in front of the mirror. Completely disheveled now, Maverick in need of another shower. You’re glad you get to join this one.

#kinktober 2023 #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #maverick x you #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun fic #top gun fanfic #top gun: maverick fic #top gun: maverick fanfic #tom cruise x reader #top gun 1986 #top gun headcanons #*#mav

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captainsophiestark · 7 months

Text

Dogfight Football

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Top Gun

Day 3 Prompt: "Okay, show me."

Summary: Hangman gets hurt during Dogfight Football. Lucky for him, he's dating a navy doctor.

Word Count: 1,715

Category: Fluff, humor, little bit of angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I scowled as I scribbled in my notebook, trying to prepare for an upcoming test by making flash cards. All my friends and my boyfriend were outside on the beach playing something called 'Dogfight Football', but I was holed up here, at a table in the back of the Hard Deck, trying to memorize medical terms and procedures.

Stupid fighter pilots.

Being on temporary assignment at Top Gun at the same time as my boyfriend, Jake Seresin, was supposed to mean we got to spend more time together. And I guess we'd gotten to spend a little more time together, but I'd built it up in my mind as something much more romantic and exciting than navy training. I really should've known better, but I'd been on a ship in the middle of the ocean treating various illnesses for everyone on board for months. The romantic fantasy had been one of the only things getting me through.

At least I had tonight to look forward to. Jake and I were going to a fancy restaurant off base for dinner, then out somewhere to dance the night away. Neither of us had to report for duty until the afternoon tomorrow, so we could ditch some of our usual healthy habits.

I'd finally managed to finish my flash cards and block out most of the noise from outside when someone came bursting through the back door of the Hard Deck. I looked up to find the cause of the disturbance and found Coyote, one of Jake's best friends, staring at me.

"What happened?" I asked, shooting out of my seat immediately. Coyote looked stressed, which never happened unless something was actually wrong.

"Hangman got hurt," he said. I rushed to the bar and grabbed my med kit without hesitating, even as Coyote continued. "He was trying to pull a stunt on a touchdown in the game, and there was some pit or something hidden by the sand. I'm not totally sure what happened, but he went down hard. I think it's something with his leg."

I shook my head, cursing every last reckless aviator on that beach as I followed Coyote out the door.

"He wouldn't be the first one to fall into a literal sand trap and hurt himself. Let's just be glad he didn't break his neck showing off."

Once we got outside, I could see Jake clearly, laying in the sand not too far from the surf. The rest of the Top Gun fliers were gathered around him, and the fact that he hadn't forced himself to his feet to play it cool around them told me he was really, really hurt.

I started running as soon as Jake was in sight, cutting through the aviators and dropping to my knees as soon as I was in range of Jake. He looked up when he saw me and tried to smile, but it ended up being more of a grimace than anything else.

"Hey, Baywatch. Come to check on me?"

I snorted. "What did you do?"

"I was trying to do a flip."

"Oh my God."

"I've done one before! But when I landed, the sand just gave way, and my leg..."

He trailed off, wincing, one hand holding his leg and the other clenched in a tight fist in the sand. Nothing looked broken from here, but with his hand in the way, I couldn't be sure.

"It hurts," he said, voice a strangled whisper so that only I could hear. Jake looked at me, face tight with pain, and my heart squeezed seeing him like that. "It hurts a lot."

"Okay, show me," I said, falling into the cool calm that overtook me in emergency situations. "I need you to move your hand and show me where it hurts, alright?"

Jake nodded, then gingerly removed his hand to rest it with the other one in the sand. Coyote and Maverick had moved the others a little further away after I'd arrived, so we had some privacy. Jake groaned and barely stifled a scream as I reached out to gently touch his ankle, shin, and knee to asses. To his credit, his leg didn't move an inch.

After a few more painful minutes of assessment, I sat back on my heels and looked at my boyfriend. He looked back, body slightly less tensed but his teeth still clenched.

"So? What's the verdict, doc?"

"The verdict is you're insanely lucky," I said, turning to dig in my medical bag. I pulled out what I'd need to splint Jake's ankle, then got to work as I continued. "It's not uncommon for people to break their legs, bad, from falling into pits hidden by the sand. You, fortunately, didn't fall hard enough or twist enough or find a deep enough pit to quite break your leg. Instead, you've got a bad sprain. It's definitely not good, but based on what I'm seeing now, I think you'll have an easier time with this level of sprain than if you'd broken something."

Jake nodded, then winced again as I tightened the brace on his ankle. It wasn't good enough to last for long, but it would keep his ankle immobilized while I found a way to get him to my office where I had supplies to actually treat him more long-term.

"You're gonna be okay," I said, leaning over once I'd finished working and kissing Jake on the forehead. "I'm sorry you got hurt. Stop doing dangerous things to showboat with your friends."

Jake huffed a laugh and gave me the same overconfident, cocky smile that I'd seen a thousand times and slowly fallen in love with, albeit slightly more strained than normal.

"I can't make any promises about the last one. Thank you for taking care of me."

"Always. And you're going to hate what comes next, so... I guess just remember that it's part of what happens when you insist on doing beach-flips in a game."

"What do you-"

"Rooster!" I turned to call to the tall aviator, who'd wandered a little ways away with everyone else. He turned and started walking back as soon as he heard me.

"What's up?"

"I need your help getting Jake to my truck," I replied. Rooster grinned, and I heard Jake groan from behind me. This time, I didn't think it was from the pain.

"Sure thing. Happy to help."

"Can't you get anyone else," whined Jake as Rooster made it to us. I put my hands on my hips and stared him down.

"Rooster's the person on this beach who'll have the easiest time lifting you and carrying you out to the car. I love Coyote and everyone else, and I'm sure they'd figure it out if they needed to, but Roos is gonna be able to just do it."

Jake grumbled, and I caught Rooster with a shit-eating grin as he leaned down and picked Jake up. I just sighed and shook my head at both of them as we headed back up the beach.

"This is ridiculous," said Jake, renewing his protest as we neared the rest of the Top Gun class. "Just put an arm around me and help me up, I don't need to be carried-"

I whirled around, hands on my hips and a scowl on my face. I'd heard Jake twisting around like he was trying to get Rooster to put him down, and if he wasn't careful, he'd get dropped and hurt even worse than before. Both men froze on the spot as soon as I glared at them.

"Jake, grow up," I said, no more room for argument in my voice. "You can't walk. If you move your ankle around or put too much weight on it, you could make it much, much worse. Which is obviously bad for a lot of reasons, but would ground you from flying for who knows how long."

Jake huffed and crossed his arms, but he didn't have any comeback to that. I stared him down for another few moments, until Rooster shifted and cleared his throat.

"Hey, he's not as light as he looks, so-"

"Shut up, Chicken."

I just sighed and continued leading the both of them up the beach. I shot a few glares at Jake's peers as we went, reminding them with just a look that if they started messing with Jake, I had more than enough dirt on all of them to bury them in return. Phoenix was the only one to smile back at me in response.

By some miracle, we made it up the beach and through the Hard Deck without Rooster dropping Jake or Jake punching Rooster. Roos helped me get Jake into the passenger seat of my car, then I chased him off with a quick 'thank you' before he could give Jake any more shit. Once he was gone, I paused a second to sigh and catch my breath, then climbed into the driver's seat.

"So... what now?" asked Jake.

"Now, we go back to base so I can treat you properly and get you a real ankle brace. Maybe some X-Rays, we'll have to see. Painkillers, though, for sure."

Jake nodded, uncharacteristically quiet as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Then, after a second, he spoke, more quiet and serious than usual.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me. Seriously. And I'm sorry I messed up our date night, after we'd both been waiting for it for so long."

I sighed, then turned to Jake with a lopsided smile.

"I've always got your back, Jake. I'm your wingman in life, remember? And don't worry about date night. If you're feeling up to it, we can still go to dinner. If you're not, we've still got the evening to ourselves. I'm sure we can find something fun to do, just the two of us."

Jake chuckled. "I like the sound of that."

"Hm. Just hang in there, flyboy. We're almost back to base, and then we can get you feeling better."

"I almost hate to ask, but... what's your plan for getting me out of the car and into the doctor's office?"

I hesitated, chewing my lip before turning to Jake. He winced at just the expression on my face, because he knew me well enough to know he would need to.

"...How would you feel if I recruited a certain Vice Admiral to carry you?"

"Fuck."

****************

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

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katcoquette · 2 years

Text

Gotta Be Quicker

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x pilot!Reader

masterlist | taglist

summary: requested by anon! you join your fellow pilots on the beach for a game of football with a side of flirting.

★ word count: 1.5k

★ tw: competitive coworkers to lovers, cocky man, inexperienced explanation of football by me

★ author's note: took one for the team and rewatched about 30 seconds of the football scene that I could find online over and over until I was confident I had (most) of the teams right. it was wholly unnecessary but I don't regret it.

Everyone knew about Hangman and Rooster’s little rivalry, but the one you had with him was backed by years of sexual tension, which made it arguably worse. All those years you’d know each other had been filled with countless jabs, risqué jokes, taunts, you name it. It was no different after being called back to Top Gun.

“Please, please, just go out with him. End everyone’s suffering.” Phoenix pleads, mostly joking, but probably also a little bit serious. You trudge through the deep sand together, headed closer to the waves where the ground was better suited for whatever Maverick had in mind for you all.

“I love you, but not a chance.” You say giving her a tight smile. She groans right as Payback catches up with you. “What’re you moaning about?” He asks, nudging her shoulder.

“Viper’s refusing to take one for the team and go out with Hangman.” She gives you a pointed look, a teasing smile on her face.

He tosses his head back and dramatically groans, causing Phoenix to laugh. “Not you too.” You shake your head.

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you to his side. “You and Hangman obviously have some things you need to work out.” He says with a smirk. “Please handle them sooner rather than later.” And then he’s running ahead of you, calling back over his shoulder, “It’ll help with the team-building!”

You roll your eyes, but laugh as you and Phoenix join everyone else. You notice Hangman grinning at you as he tosses a football up in the air, but he doesn’t say anything this time.

Maverick tells you the name of the game he’s created, Dogfight Football, but doesn’t give any other instructions aside from a simple, “You play offense and defense at the same time”.

“Rooster, Bob, Viper, Coyote, Fanboy, Fritz. You’re with me.” Maverick points as he calls your names, “Hangman, Phoenix, Payback, Harvard, Halo, Yale. Other side.” You pout as Phoenix retreats to the other team, then move to line up between Rooster and Bob.

You scoff when you notice Hangman has lined up directly across from you. He makes a gesture that he’s keeping his eyes on you, pointing first at his own, then towards yours, paired with a smirk.

That smirk would be the death of you.

The sun beating down on your back isn’t the only heat you feel throughout the game. Hangman sticks to your side during every play, defending you with annoying effectiveness, preventing you from ever being open.

At one point, you almost crash into him trying to move into another position, “Will you move out of my way?” You huff, pushing on his arm. “Don’t think that’s the point of the game, Viper, dear.” You groan.

“Viper!” Rooster calls, looking for a pass. You nod at him, looking for an opportunity to get clear. You’re standing behind Hangman, who has his arms out as he notices Rooster’s attention. You see your chance and you take it. “Hey Jake?”

He turns to look down at you, his arms faltering in confusion at the use of his first name, instead of his call sign. “You’re in my way.” You push past his arms while he’s distracted, signaling to Rooster and jumping up to catch the ball. With it safely in your arms, you turn to face Hangman with your version of his cocky grin, holding it up to make sure he can see it.

His eyes narrow, “Oh it’s on.”

The group as a whole had stopped keeping score a long time ago, but you and Hangman were keeping your own scores against each other, and you were only one touchdown ahead of him.

He intercepts one of your passes for a touchdown, and cheers loudly, holding his hands up in the air. “Boom! That’s how you do it.” He tosses the ball over his shoulder, mimicking a grenade and three of his teammates fall dramatically to the ground as you watch with your hands on your hips.

Hangman points to you from across the sand, “All tied up now, Viper.” You shake your head at him, trying not to let him see the genuine smile that had crossed your face. You’d never willingly admit it, but competing with him had made the game even more fun.

You almost considered letting him win just for the sake of seeing him show off more, but decided beating him would be even better.

“Let’s finish this.”

Mav had dropped out of the game, content with watching the rest of it go down, and cheering from the sidelines.

You’re back where you started, side by side with Hangman, elbowing each other to try and stay in front. “Hangman! Heads up!” You hear Payback yell, before you see a ball being thrown in your direction.

You both jump for it, colliding mid-way through and tripping into the sand. You let out a yelp in surprise, and then lunge for the ball in front of you at the same time as Hangman.

You’re just a little bit quicker.

“Ah! I got it!” You exclaim, holding it up as chaos ensues around you. “Over here!” Rooster calls, and you toss it up to him from where you’re on your elbows in the sand. He throws it to Bob, who makes a perfect catch, winning the game for your team.

“Nooo!” Hangman calls out in the same position as you, hitting his fist on the ground, and putting his head down. But when he lifts it up, he’s smiling at you. You laugh, “What? Nothing to say about that?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “You got lucky.” He chuckles, getting up and offering you a hand to pull you up too. You dust the sand off of your skin, keenly aware of him still standing in front of you.

You look behind his shoulder to see the rest of your teams hoisting Bob up and chanting his name. You laugh, looking back at Hangman. “I guess that means I win.” You say, hands clasped behind your back, taunting him.

But he doesn’t take the bait. “I guess so.” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good game.” He offers, holding out his hand. You purse your lips suspiciously, but take it anyway.

He yanks your arm as soon as you grab ahold of him, turning you around and pulling your back into his chest. His arms wrap around you, and he leans his head on your shoulder to talk into your ear. “You look a little hot.” He says lowly.

“Hangman…” You start, holding his arms.

“Like you could use a dip in the ocean.” You know he’s smirking again. “Don’t you dare.” You look up at him, but it’s no use. He doesn’t say anything as he picks you up, and you yelp in surprise.

The next thing you know, he’s run into the ocean and you’re being dropped into the waves. You pop out of the water sputtering. “You asshole!” You say incredulously through a broken laugh. “I cannot believe you just did that.” You splash him where he stands in front of you laughing.

“Believe it, baby.” Then snorts when he sees the look on your face. “Alright alright, I’m sorry. Let me help you up.” You stand on the deeper side of the sandbar, a playful pout on your lips.

He’s offering you his hand again. You take it and yank him into the water next to you.

You have a smile on your face when he emerges, “I can’t believe you fell for that! It’s the oldest trick in the book.” You laugh as he pushes his hair back from his face. He rolls his eyes, but can’t help joining you with a chuckle.

As your laughter dies down, you notice how close you’re standing, the current pushing you together as if even the ocean had agreed with Phoenix’s earlier statements.

You watch drops of saltwater run down his face, glistening in the setting sunlight, then your eyes move to his. You’d never been close enough to him to see how green his eyes were, especially in this light.

He takes an intentional step closer to you, and you feel his hand brush over your arm under the water. You place a hesitant hand on his lower back, brushing the waist of his shorts on the way.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He mutters quietly.

“Okay.”

His lips are salty when they meet yours, hands holding you firmly to him. You open your mouth, happy, for once in your life, to let him take the lead.

Whistles from the beach cause you to break apart. You rest your head on his chest, blushing. “Oh my god..” You laugh, embarrassed that you’d forgotten your entire team was standing within eyesight.

Hangman chuckles, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a hug that shields your face from everyone. “They’ve been betting on us ya know.” He kisses the top of your hair, sighing happily.

“Oh I know.” You snort, looking up at him. “It’s killing you that they were right, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow at his question, laughing, “How’d you know?” You ask him.

“Ohhh-“ He drags it out as a sigh, looking around, then meets your eyes again, smirking, “Because I’m feeling the same way.”

“You know it’s not too late to pretend we still hate each other. Save them the satisfaction.” You tease, starting to trudge back to shore.

He slings an arm over your shoulder, “Not a chance.”

Taglist: @lucianaasf @oliviah-25 @littlebadariell @averyhotchner

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x f!reader #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x f!reader #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman top gun #jake seresin fic #top gun hangman #hangman x pilot!reader

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lottesreads · 3 months

Text

Why Me? - Part 8

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, flashbacks, abuse, blood, violence, getting kicked out, forbidden relationship, swearing, pining

Word Count: 10k (i'm so sorry)

Summary: An insight to the past has you remembering just how hurt you were. You're still refusing to talk to your dad, and he isn't quite sure how to get you to open up. Even after a meeting with Cyclone, you're reminded you still have an entire team ready to back you up. Rooster is ready to apologize and welcome you back, but are you? (Also, can dogfight football really fix everything?)

A/N: Wow, I really didn't mean for it to get this long but here we are. But also I did procrastinate my homework to do this, and I don't regret it. I hope you all enjoy! Comments and reblogs literally make me cry tears of joy, happy reading!

Masterlist

10 years ago

Driving your beat up Toyota Corolla down the streets to your mom’s extravagant home was nothing new to you. The anticipatory anxiety wasn’t new either. You had memorized your mom’s work schedule to know when she would or wouldn’t be home when you got back from school, but lately it’s been a little erratic. Almost as much as she was. So was the real estate market you supposed.

You sigh in relief when you don’t see her car in the driveway. In these moments you thanked her husband for owning three cars and parking them all in the garage. You, of course, get to park on the street, which added a couple extra dents to your car that weren’t there before, but you weren’t one to complain. Disappointed maybe, that your pride and joy you spent your summers working at the local smoothie joint to afford, was a little more rough around the edges than when you purchased it.

You check the mailbox at the curb before going in. Of course it was empty. It became a habit ever since you applied to USNA to check the mailbox daily, hopefully to intercept the good or bad news before anyone else could see it.

The house is quiet as you enter, all three of your step-siblings must be with their mom. And Bret, your step-dad, doesn’t get home until after 5:00 most days, leaving you to your own devices. Even if you wanted to do something fun with the house to yourself, you never dare. The second your mom comes home she would notice if a single crumb was left in the sink. You have been on the receiving end of her anger at the state of the house too many times to count, even if it was Bret’s kids who made it. But of course, she wasn’t going to get mad at them. It always ended up being your fault somehow.

Still, you grab a snack and try carefully not to drop any of the pretzels as you go to your room. It was homework all the time in your last semester of High School. You were still waiting to hear from the Naval Academy, but you wanted your good grades to follow through to the very end of the year. Hours of taking notes kept your hand cramped, but it would all be worth it in the end. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. You had spent the last four years working ridiculously hard to maintain your grades, all in the hopes of getting the opportunity your dad and Bradley weren’t afforded. Of course, you’ll never know if Bradley would have been accepted anyway. Which is why you were all too happy to keep this little secret to yourself.

Only a couple short hours later you hear the front door unlock and slam shut. It rattles you out of the Physics textbook you were intently studying, as you straighten up. Whatever she was mad about, it wasn’t good. It was the sound of her heels clacking up the stairs that set you on edge. As they get louder and closer to your room, you turn to face her right as she throws the door wide open. Privacy not a concept she was familiar with. You don’t even notice the bundle of mail in her hand as her eyes glare absolute daggers at you.

“Hi mom, how was work?”, you attempt to start the conversation civilly. It paints you more as a mouse, the way it comes out in a squeak. Her manicured claws squeeze harder around the letters as she throws all but one onto the floor.

“What is this?”, she seethes, holding out the large envelope addressed to you. Your blood runs cold as your shaky hands take it from her and the USNA insignia in the top left corner is revealed.

“I-”, you swallow, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”, she blinks.

“I’m sure it’s some sort of recruiting thing they send to all seniors”, you try to reason. She clicks her tongue, folding her arms.

“Then open it and let’s find out.” There is no room for argument as she raises her brows for you to continue, her eyes still alight with pure rage. Your heart beats faster as your shaky fingers slowly tear open the envelope. They don’t stop as you withdraw the paper. Tears start to form in your eyes as you read the first line of the letter. The excitement you had for any of this is quickly overrun by fear as your mom interrupts you.

“Read it outloud.” Swallowing, you clear your throat without giving her a look and start to read.

“Dear Miss Mitchell, congratulations. We are pleased to offer you an appointment to the United States Naval Academy…”, your voice wavers off toward the end. The moment you had so looked forward to was being tainted as you spoke. You begin to chew on your lip as your eyes slowly make their way back to your mom. Her jaw is set as she stares you down. “Mom-”

“I don’t even know where to start with you”, she seethes. “After years and years of wasting my own life to give you one, this is how you repay me? By throwing it all away, and for what? The chance to be like your father? Or- or Carole’s kid who can’t even be bothered to talk to you anymore?” The use of Carole’s name has you snapping your head back from where it hung in fear.

“Don’t talk about them.” She scoffs at your tiny show of courage.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me! You’re not going.” She says with an edge of finality.

“What?”

“You aren’t going. That is final. No daughter of mine will be sucked into this trap.” Staring back down at your lap, you hope to find one last bit of courage sewn within the denim of your jeans.

“Mom, I’m- I’m going”, you manage to stutter out.

“No you’re not”, she bites back. “You know how I feel about your father, about this, and for some reason I just can’t get through to you.” She scoffs again and paces around your room, heels clicking with each step. You stand as she inspects the picture frames on your bookshelf, it wouldn’t be the first time she broke something of yours, and you want to be able to stop it if it happens again. “Do you know how much I gave up to raise you? How hard it was- is to be your mother?” What she says doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when you were younger, but it still stings every time. Like rubbing salt in an old wound that didn’t heal properly.

“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world”, you defend, your voice raising slightly. “And I’m sorry if it was so hard to be my mom, but you’re the one who brought me back after every summer. You could have left me with my dad if I was that much of a burden to you!” Before you’re able to register it, she’s moved closer and has her claws wrapped around your arms, pushing you against your desk. In her heels she’s only a couple inches taller than you, but it feels much bigger as she towers over you.

“Do NOT talk back to me you ungrateful brat!” Her fingers grow tighter as she shakes you. You blink rapidly as you wince in pain. “Your father is my biggest regret in life. I wouldn’t have wasted all those years raising his child just to know you would end up being just like him.” She steps away, gathering her thoughts as she turns her back to you. You thought it was only possible to feel fear when in your mother’s presence, even if you were ever angry it was quickly tamped down by the threat of her own rage. This feeling now is new. The one that has you clenching your fists, gathering the courage from the back of your mind to say something. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s all come down to this one boiling point. And you weren’t about to give up your dreams just to keep the peace one last time.

“Stop blaming me for all your downfalls, when you’re the one who slept with him in the first place!” You don’t see it coming. The backhand you had grown used to smacks across your face, causing you to fall back and slide to the floor. The taste of metal fills your mouth as you bring your hand to cradle where she just hit. The spot on your lip you had been chewing earlier has split from her ring, blood coating your fingers as you bring them away from your mouth. She eyes her ring, taking it off and pocketing it to clean later.

As your face starts to throb as your jaw wobbles, the woman before you crouches and puts her finger in your face while you cower on the floor. “When you leave, don’t even bother coming back. I mean it. Don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t last a day, because once you exit this house, you are not my daughter anymore.”

You start packing that night. The rooms at the Academy aren’t available until a couple weeks before the school year starts, but you want to be ready when they are.

You go to school the next day, turn in your homework like you always do, and if people ask about your lip, you tell them the same little lie, “I was just playing basketball and it bounced wrong and hit me in the face.” They seem to believe it, even though you don’t have a hoop, or a basketball for that matter.

When you drive home the first thing you notice is all the boxes on the front porch. Your boxes. Scrambling to the front door, you attempt to unlock it with your key, but it doesn’t fit the lock. Your mom’s car sits in the driveway as you knock and knock, eventually pleading with her to let you in. The house remains silent, as if she isn’t in the kitchen nursing a glass of wine.

Realizing there’s nothing you can do, you pack your car with the few possessions you have and start driving. The tears start falling down your face as you look in your rearview mirror and see what little boxes your entire life has been packed into. You find yourself at a local park, one you’ve passed everyday on your way to school. The sun is shining as you pull out your phone and decide to make one last ditch attempt for help. Clicking Bradley’s name, you hold your phone to your ear and beg as it rings that he picks up. Just this once. The robotic voice tells you he’s unable to get to the phone as you hang your head, your split lip pouting until the beep indicates it’s your turn to talk.

“Hey Bradley. I know we haven’t talked in a while”, you sniffle, “but if there’s any chance you’re hearing this, please pick up”, you start to sob. “I really need to talk to you… I don’t know who else to- to call. Just please, please call me back.” You manage in between your cries. “I miss you, and I hope you’re ok.” You click the button to end it before you ramble on too much. Staring back up to the park, you watch the families playing with their kids. A mom chasing her daughter as she hides behind the slide, a dad throwing a baseball with his son. If someone were to look on they’d probably find it creepy, but you don’t care. You stay until it gets dark, and even after you end up staying your first night of many in your car.

-----------------------

Present Day

Cyclone’s office is unarguably the largest on base. The fact that he has his own waiting room and assistant is a testament to that fact. You’re sitting in said waiting room, across from Rooster, who is still sporting a large bruise. It’s starting to turn the slightest shade of green on the outside, but it’s still rather purple.

Your dad- or Captain Mitchell right now, is inside with Cyclone, discussing the potential for you to be punished. At least that’s what you’re assuming since you assaulted an officer. After dinner Saturday, your dad attempted to talk to you but you shut him out and stayed in your room all night. It wasn’t any better yesterday. He gave you your space, but you could hear him pacing downstairs the entire day, just waiting for you to come out. Bob checked in a couple times just to see how you were feeling, but other than that you kept to yourself.

You didn’t leave your room at all, even when your dad eventually came up to bring you food, he left it outside your door. All while letting you know he was going to be on base early tomorrow to talk to Cyclone, allowing you to drive by yourself this morning. You had barely stepped foot on base when you were intersected by Warlock telling you Admiral Simpson wanted to see you in his office. It struck you with panic causing you to start chewing on your lip, and it didn’t bode well that Rooster was also there waiting when you arrived.

Rooster clears his throat and your stern gaze shoots up to him.

“Sorry”, he quickly lets out. Taking a deep breath in, you let your head fall back to the wall and allow the awkward silence to continue. It occurred to you when you sat down how much this felt like being called to the principal’s office. Except in this case, the punishments were far worse than being put in detention.

The door to Cyclone’s office opens and the two of you stand as Maverick walks out. Clearing his throat he greets you, “Lieutenants.”

“Sir”, you let out in unison. He walks past the two of you as Cyclone’s assistant lets you know you can both enter. Straightening your khaki pants, Rooster allows you to walk in first and the two of you stand to attention in front of his desk. He sits in his seat, staring out the window, and turns to look at the two of you fully, doing a slight double take as his gaze washes over Rooster.

“I am going to tell the two of you what I told Captain Mitchell'', he starts, voice as deep and ruling as always, “The U.S. government does not sign my paychecks to be a god damn babysitter. If you cannot get along as a team, then you will not fly as one. I will send one or the other to another squadron faster than you can say ‘Yes Sir’. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir”, the two of you respond.

“Being on this squadron is a privilege, not a right. The two of you are on thin ice. If either of you have a problem, you better let me know now so I can find the next pilot who will gladly fill your spot in a second flat.” His gaze darts between the two of you as your palms grow sweaty. “Understood?”

“Yes sir.” He eyes Rooster’s face once more, and then back to you very briefly.

“Rooster, if there is anything you would like to let me know about I suggest you say it now.” Swallowing, you can see Rooster out of the corner of your eye do the same.

“No, sir. There is not.”

“You won’t mind me asking where you got the shiner from then?” He asks as he eyes you, you’re more thankful than ever your hands are behind your back at the moment.

“Tripped and hit my face on some stairs, sir.” Your breathing slows slightly as Rooster covers for you. It makes you feel the slightest bit guilty for hitting him in the first place.

“Rooster, you are dismissed.” Your heart tightens in your chest as Rooster exits, leaving just you and the fire breathing dragon. He turns his attention to a pile of papers on his desk as he fans them out.

“I have to tell you, I was initially surprised I hadn’t had to call you in here earlier, given your father’s reputation. But, taking another look at your records, I’m surprised you’re in here at all.” You remain still as stone, staring at the wall just above his head. “Top of your class at the Academy, as well as Top Gun, and yet, you’re still in my office.” Raising a brow, he brings his full attention back to you. “Why is that, Lieutenant Mitchell?” You scoff internally at him questioning you instead of Rooster.

“Things got out of hand, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sighing, he stands and faces his window, gazing upon his domain.

“I wasn’t hesitant when Admiral Kazansky suggested you be added to this detachment. Your records speak for themselves. The insistence on having Captain Mitchell in charge however, made me more skeptical. How would that look?” He turns to you once more. “Having a parent and child in the same squadron? Rooster might know your dad, but on paper you have more to gain. And your flying ability doesn’t mean anything when politics are involved. It doesn’t matter what was said.” Setting both hands on his desk, he leans forward, his piercing gaze burning a hole through your facade, “I am going to give you some advice, and it is in your best interest to listen and listen good. What happened last week cannot happen again. Tread lightly, keep your head down, and do what you came here to do. Your job.” Punctuating the last two words with his finger pounding on the desk, he finally takes his seat. “You are dismissed.”

You hold your breath all the way to the hallway. Once out of sight from anyone, you take in a deep breath and let it out through your nose, collecting yourself before making your way to the women’s locker room. You know he’s right. You let yourself get comfortable, and once you get comfortable things start to crumble. It’s like everything you touch gets ruined and breaks right under your fingertips. This was no exception. You had to be better, do better. Emotions are where you lose control, say things you shouldn’t say, and you get justly punished for them.

You are still before the locker room door, taking in a breath before letting yourself in. Halo is lacing up her boots while Phoenix slips her flight suit on when you get to your locker. They both greet you with a small smile as you start to change uniforms.

“How was your meeting with the air boss?” Phoenix asks, already knowing all about it apparently. “Did he totally lay into Rooster?”

“If he laid into him more than you did, I’d be surprised he’s still standing”, Halo comments.

“Wait, what did you say to him?”, you ask Phoenix as she rolls her eyes.

“Something along the lines of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’, ‘why are you being such a dicktroll’, and ‘I can’t even look at you right now’”, Halo lists off for her.

“Dicktroll?”, you laugh, “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah well, when I’m mad the words just start coming out of my mouth.”

“He’s still your friend”, you mutter. “And I said some regrettable things, too.”

“Mantis. You’re my friend. I don’t even know if I would call him that after this. And yeah, I know you separately and out of whatever mess you’re in now, but I know when someone is being an asshole. And Rooster was being a major asshole. What you said didn’t warrant what he told everyone” She catches your shoulder as you finish zipping up your flight suit, “I’m gonna have your back no matter what, ok? And I guarantee everyone else in that room will, too.” You turn to Halo as she nods in agreement.

“I appreciate it, truly”, you thank them as you begin to tie up your own boots.

“What did Cyclone say to you, though?” Halo asks.

“Um”, you cough, “Basically I’m just happy to even still be here.”

“What does that mean?” Phoenix asks as her brows furrow.

“Doesn’t matter”, you reply, patting her back as the three of you leave the locker room.

Maverick is already at the front of the room, talking with Hondo as you walk in behind Halo and Phoenix. Bob smiles at the two of them, and you think for a second you see it get slightly wider as he spots you behind them. It almost makes you forget that everyone is trying and failing to hide the fact that they’re thinking about what Rooster said.

That fact alone has you crawling in your skin just a little bit. Bob turns to you as you open your notebook to where you were taking notes on Friday. You try your best to ignore the flits of eyes that turn your way, but you can still feel them on you.

“Hey”, he smiles.

“Hey”, you smile right back.

“How’s your hand feelin?”, he whispers.

“Oh that”, looking down at it, you stretch your fingers out and wiggle them, “Definitely feeling a lot better.” Phoenix turns at your own words, eyes widening as she looks at the discoloration on your knuckles.

“Jesus, what happened?” You’re about to tell her the same lie you told Penny, but before you’re able to open your mouth, Hangman whistles from his seat on the other side of the aisle. Everyone’s eyes follow Rooster as he makes the uncomfortable trek to the back of the room. Phoenix’s eyes quickly move from the bruise on his face back to your hand as you tuck it under your opposite one. A slow smile creeps on her face as she realizes how you stood up for yourself. “Nice shot”, she whispers to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you whisper back as you pretend to look through your notes.

“Rooster”, Maverick’s voice speaks from the front, “Take a seat up here please”, he asks as he motions to the vacant seat next to you. Your brows furrow as do Rooster’s.

“Mav-”

“Now”, he responds rather sternly. Rooster follows his orders and he sits next to you as you stiffen. The rest of the room is silent as they wait for Mav to start the day.

“It has been brought to my attention that there has been some hostility amongst this team.” If it wasn’t at all obvious he was talking about you and Rooster, the ways his eyes wander to the two of you confirm the fact to everyone. “If you can’t act as a team, it is incredibly hard to fly as a team, and when you don’t fly as a team, people get hurt.” He eyes the room as everyone looks on in anticipation. “That being said, we’re going to start today with a little… exercise.” He says the last word with a hint of a smirk on his face.

“I will ask each of you a question. If you get it wrong you will have to do 10 pushups. If you get it right, however, you can choose anyone in our squad to do those 10 pushups for you.” People start to groan around the room at the prospect of not answering a question correctly.

“Rooster”, your dad starts, “When did the U.S. land on the moon?”

“Um, July 1969”, he responds, no doubt he has the right answer.

“Wrong, the correct answer is July sixteenth, 1969. Drop and give me 10.” Rooster blinks in surprise, but does as he says. Everyone shifts in their seats, realizing how nitpicky he’s being about these answers.

“Phoenix, what year was Top Gun founded?”

“It was 1969, and I believe it was in-”

“Correct”, your dad interrupts her. “Who would you like to give your push ups to?” She smiles slightly and turns to where Rooster has just sat back down after finishing his pushups.

“Rooster”

“You heard her, give me another 10, Rooster.” He does as he’s told, once more dropping to the floor.

“Payback, when was the Declaration of Independence signed?” Payback laughs slightly at the question, before noticing the very serious look on Maverick’s face.

“July 4, 1776, sir.”

“Very good, who gets your pushups?”

“Rooster”, he responds immediately. Payback looks over, sending you a small nod and smile, and you give it right back. Rooster stays down this time, as Hondo, who is all too happy to be doing this, counts his pushups from the back of the room. You watch across the room as everyone’s eyes light up. Maverick continues to go around asking possibly the easiest U.S. History questions, and everytime a member of the squad gets their answer inevitably right, they assign their punishment to Rooster. Your heart warms that every time someone gives their correct answer, they spare you a glance or a nod, subtly acknowledging they’re doing it for you.

Rooster’s starting to sweat and slow down as Maverick finally gets to you. His eyes grow a touch softer as they look at you. He clears his throat, asking his final question, “Mantis, who was the first American woman in space?” A small smile creeps on your face at what seems to everyone else to be a surface-level question.

“Sally Ride”, you answer. The memory of being 8 with dreams of being an astronaut fill your head. One summer at the Bradshaw’s, a documentary about Sally Ride was airing on t.v. and thinking it would be good for you to see a female role model, Carole left it on for you to watch. Turns out, you got a little too obsessed, to the point Carole hand-made a NASA jumpsuit for you to wear on Halloween months later. Bradley even helped you memorize the planets in the solar system that summer, telling you that’s the first thing you needed to know if you were going to be an astronaut. He was 14 at the time, and could have been doing a number of other things than hanging out with an eight year old, but he stayed with you the entire summer. It was one where your dad was deployed the last month, but he stuck by to make sure you never got lonely. You still knew the planet song he made up to help you memorize them like the back of your hand.

“Who gets your pushups?”, he asks, even as a formality now. As you stare at Rooster, who is behind on his last two sets, you’re reminded of that 14-year-old, who stayed with you when you were alone, and taught you how to go after what you wanted. The memory causes a lapse in your anger, and just this once you decide to go easy on him.

“Can I give them to you, sir?” His eyes go a bit wide as he blinks away his surprise. “You are technically a part of this team, are you not?”

“I guess, yeah- I am. Alright Hondo”, he says as he situates himself on the ground, “Count me out.”

Rooster and Maverick finish their pushups almost simultaneously, which leaves the rest of the time in the classroom to go over more flight maneuvers for the following week.

-----------------------

Bob saves you a seat at lunch like he’s been doing it forever, and you are more than happy to sit next to him.

“Do you realize that yesterday was the first day in like 3 weeks we haven’t seen each other in person?” You ask, taking a chip off of his plate.

“Wow”, he remarks, watching you so casually sharing each other's food. “I mean I did notice… It was awfully quiet at my house.” He gives you a small smile as you lightly shove his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“What were you doing yesterday?”

“Quite literally nothing”, you reply, taking in a deep breath. Bob continues eating as you mull over your next words. “Rooster was at dinner on Saturday.”

“Are you serious?” He asks, almost choking on a chip.

“Yeah”, you nod, “He told me he was sorry, again.”

“How did that go?”, he treads lightly. You sigh, glancing across the mess-hall to see Rooster eating at a table by himself. For once he’s the one who looks lonely, and you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. But then again, he did this to himself.

“I don’t know, I think he was angry at me for the wrong reasons, which made him feel worse about what he said.”

“He should feel bad about it. It doesn’t matter if they were the wrong reasons, he shouldn’t have said it at all.”, Bob mutters, causing you to look back at him. He blinks a couple times under your gaze as you don’t look away. “What?”

“Thanks for having my back”

“Of course, I’ll always have your back”, his smile gets a little more full, a little more crooked the longer you two look at each other. And you can feel the same happening to your own smile before you look over Bob’s shoulder to see Phoenix heading your way. Dropping her lunch bag on the table has you scooting the slightest bit away from Bob, just to create a little more distance between the two of you.

“Soo”, she draws out, “I know it’s been a wild few days, but are you two still coming to my house this weekend?” Shit, you forgot all about the party she invited you to. “I’m officially uninviting Rooster if that sways you in anyway.” Chuckling slightly, you look over her shoulder and watch Rooster as he picks at his own food.

“It’s fine, Phoenix. Like Mav said, if we can’t work as a team it’s hard to fly as one.” You decide.

“This is a party, Mantis. One in which I would not like to invite losers and assholes into my home, and he fits into both of those categories.”

“So does Hangman”, you reply as she rolls her eyes. “He did apologize to me, and I believe him.”

“Did you forgive him, though?”, Bob chimes in.

“That’s beside the point. Whatever is going on with me and Rooster doesn’t involve the rest of you, and I never should have brought it into work.” Phoenix looks on in contemplation as Bob gives you an earnest look in understanding. “Plus, we have direct orders to be on our best behavior.”

“I’ll think about it”, she trails off. There’s a lull in the conversation as you continue to eat until Phoenix turns to Bob. “Rachel’s friend Emily is gonna be there, too.” You stop eating, trying to glance at Bob’s reaction through the corner of your eye.

“Phoenix-”, he groans, “I’ve already told you I don’t want to be set up on any dates.”

“And why not?”, she probes. “I just wanna see you happy, you’re like my little brother now.”

“I just…”, his eyes move quickly from Phoenix to glance at you once before she moves on.

“It’s not even a date”, she reasons, “Just come to the party and meet her. That’s all I’m asking.” The conversation ends with that as you ponder Phoenix’s words. You don’t view Bob as a brother at all, but you want to see him happy. You’re happy whenever you’re with him, and you hope he’s happy, too. But you know it’s not sufficient. Bob deserves love, something you can’t give him, and something you don’t even know he wants from you. Even if it was a possibility.

-----------------------

The next day, your father takes a strange but familiar route to get the team back in its groove. He lets you know that day before you leave to meet at the Hard Deck instead of on base, and an immediate buzz fills the air. Everyone already knows what’s going down.

“Your dad’s not one for talking is he?” Fanboy asks as you trudge your way through the sand.

“No, no he is not”, you respond while placing your sunglasses over your eyes. Your dad had explicitly stated to you the day before that he got permission this time for an entire beach day. This explanation had come no further than two seconds after you had asked if Cyclone was going to make a surprise appearance this time.

The San Diego sun is as harsh as ever as the sweltering heat threatens to melt the sun screen right off your skin. Following Payback and Fanboy from the parking lot of the Hard Deck, you meet your father and the rest of the squad closer to the water. Everyone else is already shirtless and ready to start, except for Bob of course. Much to your battling emotions of relief and disappointment. You catch his eye, and make your way over to him as he talks to Omaha and Phoenix.

“Are you ready for some team bonding?” Phoenix asks you sarcastically as you roll your eyes.

“So ready. What better way to get over a fight than throwing balls and tackling each other?” You add with a cheery fakeness that has Bob chuckling. Hondo whistles, taking your attention away from the tall WSO as the day commences.

“Alright, listen up!”, your dad starts, “Today’s training is dogfight football. I’m choosing the teams this time.” Rolling your eyes at the notion, you turn to Bob.

“How much you wanna bet he puts me on a team with Rooster and Hangman?”, you whisper through the side of your mouth. Glancing down at you through his tinted prescription lenses, he chuckles slightly.

“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d bet it all on that”, you smile and shake your head, catching sight of Rooster off to the side of everyone. He’s already looking in your direction, causing you to furrow your brows and look back to your dad.

“Starting with team number one, we have Mantis, Rooster, Hangman, Fanboy, Omaha, and Yale.” He announces as you scoff only loud enough for Bob to hear.

The teams move to gather in huddles before the game starts, and as Hangman and Omaha argue over who gets to be the quarterback, you watch as Fanboy and Yale attempt to come up with a solution. You don’t even notice Rooster at first as he stands next to you. He clears his throat, startling you slightly as you look in his direction, then back to the boys fighting.

“I wanted to say thank you for not giving me your push ups yesterday.” You know an olive branch when you see one, having offered him multiple over many years. Still, you don’t look away from the display of toxic masculinity in front of you before answering.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Seriously, I appreciate it.” You don’t respond to him this time, prompting him to fill the silence between the two of you. “Mantis, I really am sorry-”

“What are you doing, Rooster?”, you ask now, turning to face him. He’s taken aback by your abruptness as he stammers for a response.

“I just thought maybe since-”

“Since Cyclone told us to play nice?” You finish for him. “Don’t get it twisted, Rooster. My actions from yesterday are purely so that I can remain on this team. I worked my ass off to get here, and I am not going to let you of all people jeopardize that.” Walking away from him, you tear the football out of Hangman’s hands while he’s distracted. “Do we have a game plan or what?”

-----------------------

Bob is desperately trying to pay attention to Maverick reiterating the rules of dogfight football, but his eyes keep wandering back to you as you stand next to Hangman. You’re wearing a loose tank top and he can see your sports bra through the sides, leaving the tiniest sliver of skin available for his eyes to roam over. You’re trying your best to act interested even though you know this game front and back. He catches your eyes wandering over the squad, and through his sunglasses he sees you widen your eyes in fake agony. He smiles as you continue to roll your eyes, and as he shakes his head in an attempt to hide his laugh, he glances over and finds Rooster staring at him. Squaring his shoulders as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Bob turns his attention back to Mav.

The game gets ready to start, you and Bob being chosen to snap the footballs. “Get ready to go down, Floyd”, you joke as you bend forward, setting the football on the sand. He mirrors your actions, and as he bends forward, he forgets any response he was about to say. From where he’s bent over, he can see right down your tank top and sports bra, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. Swallowing, and looking back to your eyes, you don’t seem to notice his miniscule distraction. He barely even hears the whistle before you’re snapping the ball to Hangman and attempting to block the rest of his team. His hands feel a little more clammy than before the game started.

In order to keep your team happy, the decision is made to keep switching positions. You think it’s a good idea at the time, but as you run slightly backwards in order to try to catch the ball, you don’t even see what you’re hitting until the wind is knocked out of you. In an attempt to catch the ball Omaha’s thrown, your arms are stretched out, but you ultimately end up with your arms full of Bob as the two of you hit the sand hard.

Hondo blows his whistle, signaling everyone to stop as Bob groans from beneath you. The vibration of his chest against yours distracts you from the ache in your temple as you sit up to stare down at his face, eyes squinting in pain.

“Oh my god, are you ok?” You ask, assessing for any injuries.

“I’m fine, are you ok?”, he manages to slip out. His face looks fine, but as you quickly sit off to the side of him to assess the rest of his body, his hand moves to his face. “Oh geez”, he mutters. Glancing back up to his eyes as he sits up, a gush of blood pours out of the hand now clutching his nose. The rest of the team has gathered around you, and a couple people wince through their teeth at the amount of liquid pooling in his hand.

“Oh shit”, you let out without really meaning to. “Does anyone have a towel?” The team scrambles at the urgency in your voice, and without having to say anything else, a towel is plopped into your lap. You immediately move to replace Bob’s hand with the beach towel, holding it right beneath his nostrils which are simultaneously releasing blood.

Mav moves to bend down next to the two of you, “Here, let me see.” You take the towel away just for a second to let your dad inspect Bob’s nose as he looks up. There’s blood dripping over his lips and chin, prompting you to place the towel back.

“Is Penny working tonight?”, you ask, glancing back from the Hard Deck just beyond the sand.

“Yeah she should be in.”

“Good, I’m gonna take Bob up there and try to get this to stop bleeding.”

“Yeah, we should probably call it a day”, Mav replies as he places a hand under Bob’s elbow to help him up.

“No, I’m fine really”, Bob’s muffled and now nasally voice replies. “You guys keep playin’, I’ll go and take care of this.”

“You are not doing that by yourself”, you reply, almost amused at the fact he thinks he can get rid of you that easily. There’s no room for argument in your voice as you throw one of his arms over your shoulder to guide him up the sand to the bar. Phoenix steps in front of you before you leave.

“You got him?” She asks, her features twisted in a grimace as she examines his face.

“I’ve got him”, you reassure her as she watches you pass. Your arm is around his waist while his lies across your shoulders, and you’re trying ridiculously hard to focus on the task at hand instead of his warm body encasing yours. Bob on the other hand wants to tell you he can walk perfectly fine, but he doesn’t want to risk you letting him go. His nose is starting to throb, but all he can feel is your bare shoulders against his skin as your smaller hand grips his waist.

Once arriving at the bar, you walk through the glass door until Penny sees the two of you and rushes over.

“What happened?”, she asks as she watches you help Bob into the air conditioned building.

“There was a small crash”, you explain. “Do you have any towels or ice?” It’s still fairly early in the evening, the sun not setting quite yet, but the first patrons who have sat down in the bar look at the two of you with wide eyes.

“Of course”, she blinks as she moves behind the bar. “There’s a couch in my office, you can take him back there and I’ll get you something else to clean him up with.” You do as she says and open the door to her office, gently letting Bob sit down on the small loveseat, taking the seat next to him. He’s still holding the towel to his nose as he tries to lean back.

“Wait, you’re not supposed to tilt your head back”, you tell him. Gingerly placing your hand on the back of his head, you tilt him so he’s leaning forward slightly. With your other you’re lightly pinching his nose to help stop the bleeding while he holds the towel. Bob can’t help but think how you seem to already know every trick and quirk to stop the bleeding. How you must have had to clean up your own nose bleeds.

Your brows have been in a constant furrow since the collision, and he takes in the way your teeth chew on your lip.

“Hey”, he tries to muffle through the towel. Your gaze shifts from his nose up to his eyes. “I’m ok, really.” You give him a doubtful look as you pinch his nose. Your elbow rests on his shoulder, hand still cradling the back of his head.

“How’s your head?” You ask in earnest.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, he responds as soon as you’re done asking. His comment causes you to crack a smile, clearing the furrow out of your brows as you laugh.

“You did not just say that to me”, you laugh. Bob laughs along with you as he tries to breathe through his mouth. Using his shoulder as support, you lean forward and laugh closer to him.

“Ok I’ve got-”, Penny walks in on the two of you, causing her to pause in the doorway, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah everything’s fine”, you wave off her concern

“Good… I’ve got some wet rags and a bag of ice.”

“Thank you”, you reply, still trying to stifle your laugh with Bob. Confusion is written all over her face as you turn back to her.

“Right, well… I’ll just be at the bar if you need anything else.” Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing, and Bob smiles at the notion. Your eyes meet his again through the same tinted lenses, warping the color of his irises. The dust settles from your laughing fit and it’s just the two of you in Penny’s cramped office, perched on the edge of the ratty old sofa she must have got in a garage sale. You’re still cradling the back of his head as your fingers absentmindedly play with the short hair. He sucks in a breath, stopping your movements.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, that’s not- No I’m fine”, you manage to hear him through the towel. Looking at the bright yellow tropical flowers of the cotton now stained in crimson, you slowly remove your fingers from his nose.

“Does it feel like it’s still bleeding?” Bob attempts to sniff through his nose as he takes the towel away from his face.

“No, I think we’re ok.” You wince at the sight of slightly-dried blood that is now smeared from his nostrils down his chin and neck. It’s soaked into the yellow of his t-shirt, leaving a stain you don’t think he’ll be able to get out easily. “That bad, huh?”

“No, not too bad”, you attempt to lie to him. Obviously not doing that great of a job as he squints his eyes at you. Looking to get away from his playful glare, you eye a box of tissues just behind him. Reaching around him, you grab a few tissues and start to twist them.

“What are you doing?”

“We gotta plug you up.”

“Excuse- plug me up?” He laughs.

“Before we get all the blood off, we just gotta make sure it’s not gonna start bleeding again.” You hand him the first piece of tissue as he delicately places it in one nostril. “Otherwise you’re just gonna have to clean yourself up again.” He glances back up at you, this time with an unreadable gaze. Like he’s trying to study you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You eye him suspiciously as you hand him the other tissue. His eyes move to your fingers stained with his blood, and he looks away again in contemplation as you grab the wet rag.

“Seriously, what is it?” He shrugs.

“Nothing.” Huffing out a breath of frustration, you reach into the pocket of your gym shorts, taking a penny out and placing it in the palm of his hand. He smiles slightly at the notion of you just having this in your pocket, moving the penny to his crimson fingertips. The hint of a smile on his face is quickly replaced with a lopsided frown. “I- I’m sorry you know how to do all of this.” Your shoulders slump as he avoids your gaze. “And I’m sorry you have to do it again.”

“Bob- it’s ok.” You tell him softly, he glances back up, eyebrows twisted.

“It’s not though.. You shouldn’t be an expert at this.” Chewing your lip once more, you stare deeply into his eyes as they gaze back in worry.

“Bobby, I’m ok. I’m ok now and that’s what matters.” Bob is trying his best to believe you, but the image of you crying on the floor of the women’s locker room comes to mind. Then the feeling of your tears soaking his flight suit. You squeeze his hand around the penny once, gaining his attention once more.

“Ok”, he responds just above a whisper. You grant him a small smile in the silence that lingers, reaching back for the wet rag to clean him up with. It’s dried more since you’ve sat down, but you’re still just as gentle with your swipes across his chin. Glancing at his face, you notice there’s a couple specks of blood on the apples of his cheeks, almost underneath his frames.

“May I?” you ask, motioning to his glasses.

“Sure”, he breathes out. Your hands slowly rise and slide the glasses off his face, folding them and placing them gently on the table next to you. The breath is just about knocked out of your lungs as his wide, sky blue eyes blink at you for the first time without a barrier. You’re stuck for a moment in time, just admiring the color and how intently they look at you. You’re broken out of your trance as a drop of water from the rag slides down your hand, dripping on your lap.

Continuing where you left off, you dab at what was previously covered by his glasses, moving down beneath his nose and around his chin and mouth. The rag you were using is now stained a light red and you switch it out with the spare one Penny brought. The bar has gotten a little louder now as the day turns to evening, but it’s still muffled through the door and hallway. It’s quiet enough you can still hear Bob breathing so close to you. Your other hand gently nudges his chin upward so as to gain access to his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Once you’ve ensured his neck is clean, you look back on his face, hoping to get the spots you missed.

“You can look down now”, you whisper. You don’t know why you started talking so quietly, maybe to preserve a moment of silence you don’t get to enjoy so much, but as he looks back at you, you understand it’s just to preserve Bob. If you don’t disrupt the bubble you’ve put yourself in, it won’t burst. And you can stay in this moment with him for as long as you decide to. He doesn’t tell you he can clean himself up, even though both of you are thinking it. And you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. Right now it’s just the two of you, in this stolen moment in time where nothing else exists beyond the four walls of the dingy office.

Your hand moves instinctively to cradle his jaw, just to get a better hold on him while you wipe around his lips. With the rag wrapped around your finger, you swipe underneath the plush of his bottom lip, then over the top. Your eyes move slightly up, to check for any more blood, but catch sight of the tissues sticking out of his nose. It catches Bob off guard as you start to chuckle.

“What?” He asks this time. You lean back slightly, both hands now in your lap, to get a full view of his face and start to laugh a little harder. “What is it?” He presses, starting to laugh as well.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who said I had to ‘plug myself up’”, he mocks, not meaning to laugh at the end of his sentence.

“At least it’s not a tampon up your nose”, you mutter. His brows raise at your comment.

“A what?”, he stammers.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Bradley’s mom shoved a tampon up his nose to get it to stop bleeding?” He chuckles in surprise, but also at the thought of a now adult Bradley with a tampon dangling out of his nose. “That was actually the first time I saw a bloody nose, I thought he was dying”, you smile at the memory.

“What happened?”, Bob asks. Setting the now bloodied rag next to the old one, you grab the bag of ice.

“Back in his old neighborhood he had some really annoying neighbor kids. Brad took me to the park, and these three eleven year olds would not let me swing on the damn swings. Then they started saying some really mean things, and that’s when Bradley stepped in. He told them to apologize to me and share the swings and they refused. He-”, laughing at the image you continue, “he shoved one of them off the swings, picked me up, and started to help me swing.” Shaking your head at the memory, you reach up and gently rest the ice pack against Bob’s nose as he watches your face the entire time.

“Not five minutes later, all three kids are back, this time with their older brother. Keep in mind, Bradley was only twelve, and their brother was just about to start high school and absolutely huge. Brad tried to calmly explain what happened, but before he could get a word in, this guy decks him. I ran to the house to grab Carole, screaming that this kid was going to kill him. We raced back to the park, and once this guy saw a raging Carole Bradshaw running full speed towards him he sprinted the other way”, you smile.

“Bradley’s nose was bleeding and I just started bawling, thinking that this is it. He’s dying.” Bob laughs with you as you readjust the ice on his face. “We walked him back to the house, and the first thing she did was shove a tampon up his nose, while explaining to me that he was going to be fine.” Your laughing subsides as well as your own smile as you reminisce.

“Carole Bradshaw sounds like a woman that should not be messed with.” Bob comments, bringing your gaze back upon him.

“Yeah”, you sigh. “She was a fierce protector. They both were.” Bob’s hand searches for your own, squeezing softly.

“Mantis-”, whatever Bob is about to say is cut short as someone clears their throat from the door. The two of you look up to find Rooster, only this time Bob’s hand doesn’t stray from your own. It holds your fingers more firmly at the sight of him.

“Sorry”, Rooster interrupts. “Mav wanted me to check in, see how Bob’s doing.” He glances between your connected hands, then back at where you’re icing his nose. You clear your own throat this time as your hand retreats from its place in Bob’s.

“Yeah, he’s good. Blood’s stopped.”

“That’s good”, Rooster offers, trying to and failing to make this small interaction less awkward.

“Was that all?”

“Actually, um, Mav wanted to talk to you. Privately.” He adds on after glancing back at Bob.

“Fine. I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He taps on the door before leaving the two of you alone again. You turn back to Bob, not looking him in the eyes as you place the ice pack in his hand.

“I guess duty calls.” You start to gather up the rags, but before you’re able to stand, Bob’s large fingers caress the back of your wrist to get your attention. He’s very mindful to not grab a hold of your arm as the hairs on the back of his hand tickle you.

“Hey, thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, you manage to breathe out. “I’m sorry I ran into you.”

“I’m not.”

-----------------------

After running to the bathroom to wash your hands off, there is still a wide smile on your face as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You check for any more blood, but decide it’s all gone as you attempt to squash your smile. The rest of the squad is sitting in the bar, each of them with more clothing on then they had earlier. Your eyes roam the room for your father, but come up empty. Rooster is standing on the back deck outside, and you begrudgingly walk towards him. The door swings open and shut, muffling the noise from within.

“Where’s Mav?”, you ask, getting straight to the point. Rooster looks over his shoulder at you, setting his drink on a nearby table.

“He took Penny for a bike ride.”

“I thought you said he wanted to talk to me”, you ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“About that”, he scratches the back of his neck, “I meant to say that I needed to talk to you.” Rolling your eyes and giving him a scoff, you turn around, hand stretched toward the doorknob. “Mantis- please. Just give me five minutes.” And for some inexplicable reason. You don’t reach any further. You turn around, fold your arms, and give him the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief as you walk closer to the edge of the deck and watch the golden sunset.

“I want you to know that I’m apologizing because I really am sorry. It’s not just to keep the peace for Cyclone. I failed you.. And I failed my mom.” You turn towards him, and just for a second you don’t see the stone cold eyes that were set upon you just days ago, you see the sandy hair and soft hazel eyes of a brother who would do anything for you.

“It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.” He reiterates. Absent-mindedly you start chewing on your lip, and avoiding his eyesight. A part of you wants so deeply to forgive him and go back to how it used to be, but the other part is still hurt by what he did.

“Which is why I need you to listen to me. You can’t go down the path you’re already falling towards.” Your head slowly looks up as confusion clouds your features.

“What does that mean?”

“I know Cyclone chewed you out more after I left. We’re both on pretty thin ice here, and you worked so hard to get to where you are. I don’t want to see you throw it all away for someone else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Your heart rate is steadily climbing, wondering if Rooster is about to go where you think he’s going to.

“I’ve noticed things. I’ve told you to be careful before, and now more than ever I wish you would please just listen to what I’m trying to tell you.” Swallowing, you turn back toward the coastline so he can’t read into what you’re trying to conceal in your face. “I see the way you look at him. The same way you’ve looked at boys you’ve had crushes on since you were little.”

“I am not some little girl, Rooster.” You seethe toward him, your face flushed in anger, embarrassment even at his accusations. “I grew up a long time ago, so whatever version you still have of me in your head, get rid of her. Cause she doesn’t exist anymore.” Shaking your head, you stalk toward the back door, catching a glimpse of Bob with his sunglasses on once again, the tissues since discarded, playing a game of pool with Phoenix and Fanboy. “And I don’t have a crush on him. Bob and I are just friends.”

“I never said his name.” Your blood runs cold at his words. You don’t dare turn back and give him the satisfaction of being right. “So you can keep lying to yourself all you want, but I already know the truth. All I’m trying to say is be careful, and remember why you’re here.”

You let Rooster’s words wash over you as you reach for the doorknob and let yourself back inside. How stupid could you be? Sure, you’ve perhaps come to terms that you maybe have more than friendship feelings for Bob, but you were never going to act on them. But now apparently Rooster can still see right through you. The mix of his and Cyclone’s warnings run through your mind as you get closer to the pool table and stand next to Phoenix.

You can tell she’s already a couple drinks in as her volume is a little louder than normal.

“Tell him, Mantis!”

“Tell him what?” She motions over to Bob as he watches Fanboy take his shot, shaking his head at her while he does so.

“Tell him to go on a date with Rachel’s hot friend!” Your eyes catch Bob smiling and shaking his head at her antics, obviously more amused with her drunken state than her words. His crooked smile makes you want to wrap him up in a hug so it never goes away, but you’re reminded of the warnings from Rooster and Cyclone. Repeating over and over in your head the longer you look at him.

“You should”, you tell him, as much as it pains you to say. He glances up at you, smile falling as his brows furrow the slightest bit. “Give her a chance at least.”

“Oh, ya think?” He asks, the slightest tone of disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah. It can’t hurt, can it?” And even though it is tearing you apart to say it, you do it anyway.

“I guess not.” You give him a slight smile, although it turns into more of a grimace the longer you hold it. He does the same to you, turning back to stare at the pool table with a hardened gaze, eyes not actually following where Fanboy’s ball runs to. Phoenix cheers out in glee at Bob’s acceptance, and you slip out the front door, saying your quick goodbyes. You pass Rooster at the bar, not giving him a second look as you make it to your car. Your heart aches at the thought of telling Bob to find happiness somewhere else, knowing damn well if the circumstances were different you would be first in line to offer it. Your brain reminds you however, you're making the right decision. It's the only decision. Right?

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #why me?

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eternalsams · 8 months

Text

Love is All ⇴ M.Garcia

pairing: Mickey Garcia x fem!reader

summary: during your first night out after the Uranium mission, you all decide to play a game to know each other a bit better and some things are hard to believe.

content/warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. There's references to one of my favorite movies, can you catch them?

masterlist

The mission was a success and when everybody was cleared off the medical check, you all decided to enjoy a night out at the Hard Deck and let your captain pay a round of drinks. Except for the first night when you all met and the day at the beach for dogfight football, you didn’t really have the time to chat and really know each other. It was Hangman’s idea, of course, but none of you complained about free drinks and a fun night out. As Coyote's WSO, you already knew Javy and Jake pretty good and heard about Rooster and Phoenix from when Hangman would tell you his Top Gun stories. But you were glad you could finally put faces to the names. You were one of the youngest among Fanboy and Phoenix. To your biggest surprise, Bob wasn't as young as he seemed to be but he still kept a young soul, getting along with the youngest but also the oldest of the team.

When you passed the Hard Deck's doors, penny welcomed you all with a bright smile and a couple of applause. She was followed in her applause by a few patrons who recognized you and heard about your exploits. None of you really paid them any attention and Rooster and Phoenix stayed at the bar to take all the orders while the rest of you gathered around a pool table for a game or two. You mostly stayed with Hangman and Coyote, sometimes chuckling at something Fanboy said, making them understand where your callsign came from. Lieutenant Y/N 'Giggles' Y/L/N. You got it in flight school when you inadvertently giggled during class at an awkward silence. It stuck.

The night went on, all of you learning to know each other. Some funny anecdotes shared and embarrassingly told later, Hangman proposed -as the very mature man he was- to play truth or dare. You all drank a little bit and the alcohol in your systems made you all agree with his high-schooler idea. You grabbed the bottles of beer that were still not emptied and followed Hangman on the beach. You all sat legs crossed onto the sand and that's when you noticed that Coyote kept an empty bottle to use as a pointer. He spined the bottle and the bottleneck pointed at Bob. Hangman's face lightened up and he looked up at the blue-eyed WSO with a devilish smirk. "Truth or Dare, Baby On Board?" He asked. You could see Bob gulp silently and think about what he was about to choose. He could almost feel the fresh Californian air hitting his bare torso if he ever said Dare to Hangman. "Truth."

Hangman's smile faded only a bit, kind of disappointed that Bob didn't pick Dare, but he quickly found something to ask the blonde. "What's the most reckless thing you've ever done? On or out of base." The blonde pilot licked his lips wickedly and leaned back to rest his weight on his hands. Bob's face turned red and he looked away, his eyes catching the ocean waves a bit further on the beach. "I... I uhm got a girl on base one night." And with just that, howls and whistles were heard from all the boys. Phoenix and you simply laughed, surprised by Bob's confession. "Who was that girl?" Payback asked. "Hey! He picked Truth not truths." Phoenix quickly came to the rescue of her WSO. Payback raised his hands in surrender and Bob leaned over to spin the bottle.

You kept playing during the biggest part of the evening, some of your deepest and dirtiest secrets being revealed to your new friends. Some of you -Rooster and Coyote- were now wet from head to toes from going into the cold water of the ocean as a dare. Others -Phoenix, Hangman and Payback- were wasted with the amount of alcohol they consumed. Unfortunately you had to lick salt from Coyote's neck at one point, earning whistles from Hangman who snapped a picture on his phone for good measure he'd never forget this. Sadly for Bob, he now had to feel the fresh air of California when Rooster dared him to take off his shirt, he now had wrapped his arms around his bare chest, feeling self-conscious even when you and others complimented him to make him feel better about himself. Truth be told, he looked nothing like Rooster with his broad shoulders or like Hangman with his hugely developed pecs. But you wouldn't be lying if you said you didn't stare a bit too long when he took his shirt off to properly fold it next to him on the sand.

Fanboy was the only one left avoiding anything too embarrassing, he told you about his first time, he whispered dirty things in Phoenix's ears who opened her eyes wide open when he murmured those dirty words. He even drank a whole beer in one go. But nothing too embarrassing like kissing one of you or stripping out of his clothes. He finished his last dare and spined the bottle that ended up pointing at you. He kindly smiled up at you and licked his lips. "Truth or Dare, Y/N?" You chuckled and closed your eyes, wanting this game to finally end. "Truth." You could hear Hangman and Coyote sigh because they basically already knew everything about you. "Do you believe in love?" Mickey -as you learned he was called- asked you. You didn't really see the others' faces when he asked that because you kept looking at him but you could hear some laughs and some whispers at how 'lame' his question was. "I don't." You simply say and he frowned, not expecting this answer, he opened his mouth, ready to ask something else when Rooster's voice interrupted him. "Alright, I don't know what you wanted to know with this Fanboy but I think it shows that it's time we stop playing this immature game." He ended his sentence with a pointed look towards Hangman who was grinning, stopping himself from laughing out loud.

You and Fanboy were the only ones who stayed silent when you all helped cleaning up. You weren't really upset by Mickey's question or anything, just tired. But Fanboy was deep in his thoughts, how could you not believe in love? It was simply impossible for him to imagine not believing in love. You all joined the bar and noticed all customers were gone and that Penny was cleaning everything. You all helped her even if she insisted you didn't have to. Payback was the first one to leave, and then Phoenix. And at the end, only you and Fanboy were still helping Penny moping the floor and cleaning the counters while she was taking inventory. The silence was only disrupted by the sound of the waves and the crickets outside. That until Fanboy stopped moping and turned to you. "How can you not believe in love?"

You chuckled and kept cleaning the counter. "I just don't. Is it that hard to believe?" You looked up at him and smiled, shrugging to show him it didn't bother you that much. "It is! I mean... What do you mean by Love? You've never been in love before?" He rested his chin on the back of his hands that were themselves resting on top of the mop handle. "I have been in love. I'm still human, Fanboy. I just don't believe in love with a capital L. I don't think we're destined to find some kind of soulmates that will forever be by our side. I think that's bullshit." Your answer left Fanboy speechless and when you were done with the counter, you rinsed the sponge you were using and dried your hands before grabbing your stuff. "Here's a question for you, Mickey. Why do you believe in love?" You chuckled as you walked by him, intending on leaving him finish moping alone. But his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Above all things, I believe in love." He said and you turned to him, feeling he would say more. "A life without love isn't worth to be lived. And I'm not talking about parental love because that's a whole different thing but romantic love, love with a capital L, is real. Believe me." He rested the mop against a table and got closer to you. "My mom always tells me that when you find your true love, you feel it. Not in your heart like everyone might think, but in your stomach. Being away from them makes you sick, thinking of a life without them makes you sick. That's when you know you found your true love." He stopped getting closer when only a couple of feet separated you. "Have you ever felt sick?" You asked curiously. "I thought so, once. But I had only eaten something bad." He smiled, showing his pearly whites. You giggled, looking away from him not to fall for his pretty smile. Because he did have a very pretty smile. "Love is a many-splendored thing, you know? It's not always about being a sap, or cheesy. Nor as passionate as Hangman tries to make it appear." He chuckled as he tried to catch your eyes. "It can hurt, I agree. But it makes us feel alive. Love lifts us up where we belong." One of his hands tentatively grabbed yours and made you look back at him. "And where do I belong?" You took a step closer to him, linking your fingers to his. "Up there in the sky, where the eagles fly." You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling once more. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize it rhymes." He chuckled as he closed his eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed by how cheesy he sounded. "That was pretty smooth, I have to admit." You said and his eyes opened wide, staring at you in disbelief. You giggled once more and let go of his hand to grab his face and press your lips on his cheek. "I may not yet believe in love with a capital L, but I do believe in a dinner at yours. Let's say Friday, at 7?" You cocked your head to the side and watched him coming back to his senses. "That was really smooth too." He softly smiled and nodded, already wondering what he was gonna cook for you on Friday night.

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waklman · 1 year

Text

Delicate (Pt. 3)

summary: jake quickly learns that he can’t manage without you, at all.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: mentions of childhood neglect, negative self-talk, and one brief instance of suggestive language. 18+ blog.

word count: 3.1k

previous part

“There you are.” Natasha shouts a little too loudly, the adrenaline from the last round of dogfight football is still rampant in her system–practically oozing from her pores.

Catching her breath, the brunette steadies herself, anchoring both hands onto the flesh of her hips, fingers firm over her figure. Upon not receiving any signal of acknowledgement from Hangman, Natasha leans forward, searching to see if he has his bluetooth headphones snuck into his ears again. But, those navy blue pods are nowhere in sight–for the very first time this week Hangman isn’t drowning everyone out with music.

Natasha feels herself grow nervous as she observes him now. It’s almost like she’s looking at a stranger.

In front of her, Hangman is laid on his back, forgoing a beach towel entirely—his backside directly on the burning sand, while the sun nips at his front. Not an inch of his body is protected by sunscreen either, refusing it from Coyote earlier in the day.

And Jake lays there, fully aware that the heat from the sun is punishing him, but it’s exactly what he needs–no–what he deserves.

There has been radio silence between you two since last week, and with every passing day, guilt gnaws at him until he’s left debilitated. But he allows that guilty feeling to sink its teeth into him and spread like poison—because Jake knows that deep down, this is entirely his fault, and that he deserves this. He had promised you–no more Stella, and yet she showed up at his door anyway.

A small part of Jake had known that he could’ve done more to prevent this too–he could have told her to never talk to him again, he could have blocked her number, and he could have made the front desk remove her name from his guest list, but he didn’t–leaving a small crack of opportunity for her to slip in and she did–right in front of you.

“What are you still doing here?” Natasha attempts to joke, but there’s no reaction from him.

“How about we head inside with everyone else..” she begins to offer.

No answer.

“Hangman?”

Still, no answer.

Natasha’s jaw tightens as the frustration starts to slowly build. She watches him in disbelief as he doesn’t even spare her a single glance, refusing to open his eyes.

“I said, let’s go.” Her voice is strung with impatience.

She lets the statement hang in the air, believing her clear agitation would earn her a response, but it doesn’t even stir him.

Finally having enough, Natasha snaps. “Jake.”

And just like that, she fizzles out every loud thought that’s been consuming his head.

“Oh.” Jake whispers to himself, sitting up to look around as if he wasn’t aware of his own surroundings.

Natasha’s scoffs, watching as he slowly gathers himself, dusting the sand off his shorts.

“That’s it? Oh?” she shouts, arms shooting up in the air.

Her arms fall flat against her sides again, “I’ve called for you over five times, Jake.”

He looks up at her startled, as if he’s now noticing she’s there.

With furrowed brows, she stares back harshly as Jake swipes a disappointed hand over his jaw, trying to pull himself together.

“I’m sorry.” he quietly apologizes, arms dropping like dead weight on his sides. His eyes are only on her for a second before they drop to look at the sand below her.

Not sure what to make of his sudden apology, Natasha’s anger simmers almost immediately. “You know what. It’s fine. Let’s just–let’s head inside for drinks.”

“Hey Hangman?” Bob worriedly looks back, hoping for a response from the pilot.

After wrapping up things at the beach, the dagger squad headed inside for drinks. But sadly enough, Jake ended up quietly nursing a beer all night, just to knock out from heat exhaustion at the bar before he even could finish his drink.

And with Coyote too drunk to even properly utter his best friend’s address, Phoenix and Bob find themselves playing the role of detectives and babysitters.

“You won’t get a reply out of him, he’s out cold.” Natasha sighs, pulling into the lot of your apartment complex.

Bob’s face twists in confusion, instantly recognizing their location from the window behind Hangman’s head.

“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital instead?” he asks, turning to face his girlfriend.

“Trust me, this is better than the hospital for him.” She assures him. “Now grab his phone for me, please.”

Natasha pulls her keys out of ignition, then reaches to hit the car light above her as half of Bob’s body twists over to reach where Hangman’s seated.

Bob finally pulls himself back into his own seat, after struggling to not accidentally touch Hangman anywhere important in search for his phone.

He swiftly hands the blond’s phone over to her, “Here.”

Natasha puts out a hand to grab the phone being passed to her, looking down towards the screen.

Her head snaps back to the man on her right, ”Bobby…how'd you unlock his phone?”

Bob smiles sheepishly at her. “Face ID?��

Natasha shoots him a stern look, “That doesn’t work if you’re dead asleep.”

“He unlocks his phone around me a lot.”

Natasha smiles, nodding her head at his confession–satisfied that he cracked so easily under her pressure.

“That sounds more like it,”

Both pilots share a small laugh, appreciating their small moment together–before turning around to the noise in their backseat, alerted by Hangman mumbling your name in his sleep.

Remembering who’s seated in the back of their car, Natasha turns back around–skimming through Hangman’s phone in search of your contact.

“God, look at this sap.” Natasha tilts the phone in her boyfriend’s direction.

Bob’s eyes skim over your contact name, slightly taken aback by Jake’s clear affection for you, “Are they dating? There’s so many heart emojis..”

Natasha smiles to herself, “I’ll be damned if they’re not. This is the first time I haven’t seen them glued to each other's side since they met.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there, outside your own bedroom door. With tired hands, you weakly trace over the little sketches of pizza you and Jake drew onto the patch underneath the door knob. It was from one of the first times you two hung out by yourselves, Jake had begged for your permission to erase his drawing that day–feeling self conscious because your pizza looked better than his. But, once you told him you loved his pizza even more than yours, he immediately began to love his own little pizza as well–appreciating its uneven shape and disproportionate sauce to cheese ratio.

You swallow looking at Jake’s pizza doodle, knowing you’ll be spending another night wide awake–shot numb by heartache.

Just as you’re about to twist at the doorknob, you’re quickly interrupted by the buzzing in your sweater pocket. Your hand slowly withdrawals from the door in reaction, reaching inside your sweater, fingers brushing against the cotton lining for your phone–bringing it up to view once the buzzing device is your grasps.

There’s no way. You blink unbelievingly at the device in your hands. Jake’s smiling face takes over every pixel of your screen, and before you could think–you’re reaching to answer the call.

“..Jake?” you feel breathless.

“You brat.” Natasha’s voice snaps at you from the other line.

“So you can pick up his call, but not a single one of mine all week?” Her words are slightly muffled by her clenched teeth, but you make out what she says.

“Oh. Hi Nat.”

“You sure sound like you missed me.”

“Nat, I–I did miss you, I’m sorry.” you scramble, feeling guilty.

“What’s wrong with you two lately?”

“Nothing. It’s–we’re fine.” you attempt to assure her.

“Okay?...well I have a special delivery for you outside. So please accept this gift, before he flatlines in my car.”

You’re almost unsure what to do with what’s in front of you. The sight of Jake’s exhausted state on your couch makes your heart churn in pity–but his face also sends a flood of pain rushing into your system.

Natasha and Bob left not long ago. They had made a team effort to lug him up to your door, helping you look after him as he was completely unaware of where he was–knocking in and out of consciousness. Bob had even gracefully offered to wash the other man–scrubbing Jake’s body in your bathtub to the best of his ability–nervous eyes scrambling to look anywhere but down.

For the first time tonight, you reach to touch him, knees bent in front of the couch to observe him more closely. You barely graze his skin, fingers softly brushing to move the strand of hair that covers his eyes. And it’s almost like his body learned to recognize your touch–alerting Jake to wake up. You are completely still for what feels like hours, nervously watching as his eyes slowly pull open, and those eyes instantly widen from seeing you.

You feel almost incapable of speaking from seeing his reaction. Jake is at a loss for words as well–mind reeling to comprehend how you’re sitting in front of him, blobs of fuzzy memories not patching together well enough for a clear timeline. Feeling like he got punched in the chest, Jake’s ribs constrict tightly from the way you’re looking at him–reminding him of what he’s done to you. The hurt he’s caused is confronting him now.

Not willing to worsen your heartbreak, you use up the little energy you have left to speak–quietly trying to dismiss him. “Go back to sleep, Jake.”

You’re already moving to distance yourself from him, again–and Jake panics, grabbing your wrist, loosening his grip immediately after catching you, making sure not to hurt you.

“Don’t, please.” he begs softly.

You don’t turn back around, worried that his face might be the final trigger you needed to cry. Instead, you twist your hand to hold his.

“Let’s go to bed, I’m tired Jake.”

Like a lost puppy, Jake gets up and lets you lead him to your bedroom. As you two pass through the door, his footsteps suddenly become heavier knowing what’s etched onto the tall slab of birch. Memories of the day you taught him how to appreciate his little imperfections through your silly analogies with pizza flood back into his throbbing skull, and the guilt coats his mouth again.

Once you're both standing in front of your bed, you let go of his hand–still choosing not to face him. You quickly tuck yourself onto the left side of the bed, knowing he preferred the right.

Jake’s heart sinks watching you fall onto the mattress weakly, burying yourself under the thick comforter. You’re upset with him, but you still give him the consideration that he doesn’t deserve–remembering the small comment he made to Phoenix and Bob once, about how the right side is always more comfortable.

Feeling Jake finally slip into bed next to you, his weight causing you to slowly slip over to his side–you scoot your body closer to the edge. With a heavy heart, you remind yourself to keep a distance there, in some respect for Stella.

And all Jake can do is watch with sad eyes, as you physically pull away from him. But there’s nothing he can do–you’re both too fatigued by the long days spent without each other to have a coherent conversation right now.

After moments of silence, Jake hears you softly snore beside him, making his heart feel a little lighter—knowing you were comfortable enough to actually sleep next to him. And not even a minute passes before Jake’s begins to drift off as well, eyes growing heavy and limbs falling slack–finally matching your steady breathing.

There’s a tickling sensation that wakes you up, but it quickly disappears.

You slowly blink away the sleepiness, trying to make sense of what time it is–lazily attempting to focus your vision onto the dim sky that peaks through the blinds, not brave enough to turn over to check the clock on the other side. But suddenly, the tickling sensation is there again, on the skin of your lower back.

Behind you, Jake is absentmindedly dragging his finger across the small sliver of exposed skin between your ribbed shorts and plain shirt. In the middle of the night, Jake stirred awake just to see that your back is still facing him. After an internal struggle where Jake fought the urge to reach out to embrace you, he settles on writing his apologies on your back for the next hour.

You stiffen, but this goes unnoticed by Jake–who’s completely unaware that he’s woken you up.

Laying there, you feel your throat start to itch realizing what he’s been repeatedly writing on your back. Jake’s writing, I’m so sorry. You let him trace out the statement one more time, not wanting to interrupt him–before flipping around to finally face him, causing him to quickly retract his hand.

The room remains unlit, besides the deep purple light emitting from the sky–glistening against his teary eyes. Your eyes nervously scan his face, bringing an instinctive hand up to swipe away the fresh tear that slips from his eyes.

Straight away, Jake snaps his eyes shut–eyebrows pinching at the center, completely overwhelmed. He almost forgot how it felt to be handled by you.

Then, the painful reminder he’s been hearing in his head for the past few days makes its presence known again. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deser-.

“I’m so sorry too, Jakey.” you sweetly whisper, hoping he would open his eyes.

Jake’s face twists in pain, as if someone physically harmed him. How could you be sorry? He deserved the silent treatment–he always deserved the silent treatment. The one that you gave him? He deserved that. The ones his older brothers always gave him growing up? He deserved those too. And the one his father is currently giving him? He especially deserves that one.

“I didn’t talk to her. I don’t–I never want to talk to her again. Please I–I’m so horrible to yo-I don’t deserve-” Jake feels like a little boy again, stuttering out his poorly constructed apologies to his father, who couldn’t care any less to hear them.

“Jake.” you cut him off.

Jake unravels further under your touch, more tears streaming down his face upon feeling your hand slip down to the side of his neck–thumb stretching over to stroke at the birthmark he hated at the center of his throat.

“It was wrong for me to ignore you. You never deserve to be treated like that.” you gently whisper.

And in an instant, Jake Seresin completely shatters. All the burdens that casted over his heart since childhood, disappear. All the negative thoughts that swarmed his consciousness since he became a teenager falls silent. And finally, the slow acceptance that Jake didn’t deserve to have a good constant in his life comes to a complete halt. All relieved by you.

Jake finally wills himself to open his eyes, meeting your stare.

“I missed you.” he announces, looking in your eyes intently.

“I missed you, too.” you reply, blinking up at him.

You feel your heart beginning to sputter, noticing Jake’s eyes slowly trail down to look at your lips, with all his attention placed there.

Slowly, you bring your hands up to cradle his face, fingers twitching against the sharp line of his jaw–but Jake’s eyes are still tracing over the shape of your lips.

And before Jake could do it, you lunge forward first–capturing his lips in an intentional kiss. You languidly move your mouth against his in the darkness, making Jake’s skin run hot against yours as he kisses you back–pressing his chest closer to your front.

Without breaking the kiss, Jake moves to hoover above you–body slotted between the space between your thighs, hands reaching under your lifted shirt to sweetly swipe at the skin of your waist.

“You’re so good, Jake.” Jake shudders, feeling you whisper the praise against his mouth–lips softly brushing against his own wet ones. Accepting the praise, Jake slips his lips between yours once again–heart swelling from the way you sweetly kiss him back.

You kiss him unlike anyone has before. There’s no clashing of teeth–no desperate teasing–no rough pulling. Instead you kiss him–with a gentle intent lingering behind it. And that intention is there, through the way you softly maneuver your lips against his. And Jake’s heart twitches in realization–you’re kissing him with love. You love him.

Unable to contain himself, Jake pulls away to look at you. You stare back shyly, lips parted and swollen underneath him, your chest rising and lowering to catch your breath.

“I love you.” he confesses back, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

You rapidly blink as Jake lowers himself to kiss your collarbone, “I love you.” he whispers there.

“I love you.” he kisses your clothed tummy, causing your stomach to swirl in effect.

He moves down further, kissing the skin of your hip. “I love you.”

“Jake?” He immediately pauses.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I love you too,” you pause, Jake curiously looks up at you–taking in the way the orange glow of the rising sun began to softly kiss your face.

“..but are you in the mood for pizza?”

Jake falls flat against your stomach, smiling ear to ear. “I can never win against pizza, can I?”

“I knew they were open!” you squeal, thrashing around to free yourself from the seatbelt.

Jake shakes his head–a smile tugging at his lips, amused that you knew a pizza shop that was open this early in the morning.

Before Jake could pull his keys out of ignition, you’re shooting out the side of his car–your excited cheering echoing through the empty parking lot.

“How are you so damn fast?” Jake laughs, finally catching up to you at the entrance–slipping his hand into the back pocket of your denim jeans.

“Don’t you pilots have the need for speed?” you tease, grinning up at him over your shoulder.

While lowering his head to kiss your shoulder, Jake’s hand slips out from your back pocket–moving to stuff half his fingers inside your smaller front pocket instead, with the addition of hooking his lonely thumb into the band of your jeans.

“Trust me sweetheart, the need is there.” he whispers into your ear.

You snap your head at him, “Are we talking about the same thing right now?”

Jake scrunches his lips, “How about you try pineapple pizza today.” he offers, totally ignoring your question.

“What will you give me if I do?” you tease, leaning back on him.

“Come on, get your head out of the gutter.” Jake pretends to be shocked by your statement.

Your face falls flat, very unamused by him. “I hate you.”

“That’s not how I remember it. Now—let’s get you some pineapple pizza, my hungry girl.” Jake grins, moving you both forward into the familiar pizza shop.

note: thank you so much for reading delicate, this part was a personal favorite of mine. as always, reblogs are very greatly appreciated!

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Text

Show Me All the Scars You Hide

Pairing: Rooster x Future Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: The title for this one comes from the Rachel Platten song, “Stand By You,” which is featured on my Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw playlist. I would definitely recommend giving it a listen if you’ve never heard it before. It’s a beautiful song! It definitely influenced this story in a lot of ways.

Warnings: Mentions of drunk driving and a car accident, grief and loss, angst and comfort, romantic fluff.

“Do you have to get home just yet?” Bradley whispered against your ear, eliciting a pleasant shiver that had nothing to do with the brisk evening air.

The sky was still speckled with flecks of orange and pink from the vibrant sunset you’d just witnessed, but an indigo darkness was slowly chasing away the last vestiges of daylight.

You and your boyfriend of almost five months had been whiling away the hours of his day off by hanging out on the beach with his friends and fellow aviators. It made you happy how quickly they’d accepted you into the group and how at ease you felt with all of them, especially Phoenix. She felt like the sister you never had. You could tell it made Bradley happy, too, to see you getting along so well with the people who meant so much to him. Nothing could beat the sight of your boyfriend’s gorgeous smile.

He’d been smiling all day—smiling and laughing and letting loose in a way you loved to see. It didn’t take much to know that his job was an extremely stressful one, so you were glad when he took any opportunity possible to relax and unwind.

After weeks of hearing about it, you’d finally gotten a chance to see a game of dogfight football up close and it certainly did not disappoint. You, Penny, and Amelia had enjoyed watching from the sidelines while simultaneously working on your tans. It was hard to tell who the winning team was, especially by the end when everyone was declaring themselves the victor, but regardless of who the winner was, Bradley insisted on pulling you into the ocean with him for a celebratory swim.

You’d all capped off the evening with a bonfire on the beach, making a mess out of the s’mores and laughing over ridiculous stories as the sun set on the horizon. At one point, Bradley slipped his hoodie over your head and bundled you closer against his side, which you happily snuggled into. Your boyfriend warmed you down to your toes in a way even the fire couldn’t manage.

Now everybody was packing up and getting ready to head home, but clearly Bradley had other things on his mind.

“No,” you whispered in return, turning in his arms so that you were facing him properly and wrapping your arms around his neck. “My schedule’s wide open,” you added teasingly, smiling as he lowered his head to peck your lips.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” he grinned, brushing a loose tendril of hair off your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. “I’m not ready to say goodnight yet,” he added softly, caressing your cheek as his thumb lightly grazed your lower lip.

His words made your stomach do a little somersault, your cheeks growing warm and your pulse quickening ever so slightly. No man had ever made you feel the way that Bradley Bradshaw made you feel. He didn’t play games. He didn’t try to hide how much he loved you. Every time he looked at you, and with every word he spoke to you, you knew how much he cared. For a man in such a macho profession, a man who so many might mistakenly assume to be cocky and arrogant, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for you. And that was a beautiful thing.

“Me either,” you told him truthfully, smiling as you slipped your hand into his.

With his free hand, Bradley reached down to grab your beach bag, which was filled to the brim with sunscreen, towels, a beach blanket, and leftover snacks from earlier in the day. He lifted it up in a gesture of farewell towards the others, who were already starting to head in the opposite direction. “See you guys tomorrow!” he called out.

“Good night, Rooster,” they called back, Hangman, Coyote, and Payback all waggling their eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, grow up,” Phoenix chided them, smirking as she rolled her eyes and waved goodnight to you and Rooster.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, honey,” Penny told you with a knowing smile as she, Amelia, and Mav packed up to head out for the night as well.

“See you tomorrow, Penny,” you smiled, allowing Bradley to tug you away from the group and the burning embers of the bonfire so that the two of you could stroll peacefully along the shoreline.

“I’m pretty sure everyone thinks we’re off to have sex on the beach now,” you giggled after a few minutes of tranquil silence, your cheeks flushing even as you laughed.

“Yes, I gathered that,” Bradley chuckled, his lips twitching into an amused smile as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed you lovingly to his side. “Not that I’d be opposed to that plan,” he said, his eyes twinkling playfully as he looked down at you. “But I was thinking we could just lay out and look at the stars. It’s something my mom and I used to do whenever we’d spend the day at the beach,” he told you.

Your stomach clenched slightly, the way it always did whenever Bradley revealed something about his family or his past. The two of you had become so trusting and open with each other over the course of these past few months. You felt like there was nothing you couldn’t tell him, and you were glad that he seemed to feel the same way. You knew how much he loved his parents, and how much he missed them, so you felt touched whenever he shared something about them with you.

“That sounds wonderful, babe,” you murmured softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “Did you and your mom go to the beach a lot?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, smiling with a tender affection that warmed you to your core. You loved how much he clearly adored his mother. “Yeah, she loved the beach. She’s the one who taught me how to swim. We spent a lot of summers at the beach. And a lot of summer nights looking up at the stars,” he said fondly, gazing up at the inky black sky above. The last glimmers of sunset had completely vanished, leaving a sky full of sparkling diamonds in their wake.

Bradley stopped suddenly and gazed down at you. It almost seemed like the light from the stars had illuminated his eyes as they fell to your face and met yours. “I never really wanted to look at the stars after she passed. Not by myself. And not with anybody else either,” he confessed, his hand reaching up to lightly cup your cheek again. “Not until I met you.”

Your eyes widened at his admission and you found yourself too stunned to speak.

That didn’t seem to bother Bradley in the slightest. Eyes crinkling as he smiled, he leaned forward to brush his lips against yours. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered, reaching up to lightly stroke his cheek.

“Do you want to lay down for a little bit?” Bradley asked, indicating the expanse of sand behind you. The beach was silent and empty, except for the two of you.

You nodded eagerly, which made him chuckle, the two of you working together to set out the large beach blanket that you had thankfully tucked into your bag before leaving your apartment that morning.

Bradley took a seat first, then held out a hand to help you lower yourself down until the two of you were lying side by side, staring up at a sky full of brilliant, twinkling stars.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his gaze transfixed on the sky up above. “I really haven’t done this in years. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen the stars look so beautiful.”

You turned your head to look over at him, slowly slipping your hand into his and lacing your fingers together. “I think it’s your mom. She wanted to make sure the stars were extra special for you tonight,” you breathed out softly.

Bradley was quiet for a moment, but you could see his throat tightening and in the reflected light of the moon, you noticed a single tear sliding down his temple.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, worried you’d upset him. Maybe this was too hard, doing this after so many years, and without his mother here.

“Don’t be,” Bradley told you sincerely, turning his head to look at you. “I’m so thankful to be here with you right now. My mom would have loved you,” he said seriously, reaching over to brush a few loose wisps of hair out of your face. “Just like I do.”

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Bradley pulled you closer to his side, dropping a kiss on the top of your head as you snuggled against him and rested a hand on his chest, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. The two of you lay there for a long time in comfortable silence, taking in the breathtaking view of the stars and the calming sound of the waves lapping against the sand.

As Bradley turned his head slightly, resting it against yours, you tore your gaze away from the night sky and looked more intently at him. Even in the darkness, you could make out the scars that marked his chin and cheek. You didn’t know where they’d come from, but they had never once bothered you. You thought they made him rather beautiful, in fact. Neither of you had ever mentioned them before. You would never dare bring them up, never dare presume to ask about them. In the back of your mind, you guessed they may have had something to do with a training accident, but you trusted that if Bradley wanted you to know about them, he would tell you. You would wait, however long that took.

“I’ve never told you about my scars,” Bradley said quietly, so quietly you almost thought you’d imagined it for a moment. There was no way your minds could have been operating on the same wavelength in such a way. But when he turned to look at you, you knew you hadn’t been imagining it.

“No,” you responded softly, shaking your head the tiniest bit. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assured him, resting a warm hand on his cheek.

“I do want to,” Bradley replied, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to it. “You’re the first person I’ve met who I want to know everything about me,” he confessed, swallowing slowly. “It’s just not something I talk about often.”

“It’s okay. You can tell me as much or as little as you need to,” you reassured him gently, wrapping an arm around his waist as you lay pressed against his side.

Bradley nodded a little bit at that, his fingers sliding through your hair as he looked back up at the sky for a moment. He was quiet for several seconds, but you just waited patiently.

“It wasn’t a training accident. It wasn’t anything to do with the Navy,” he started, blowing your initial assumption out of the water. “It happened when I was in college.”

You nodded slowly, letting him know that you were listening and giving him the space he needed to share whatever he wanted to get off his chest.

“I was a sophomore,” he said, licking his lower lip in an almost nervous gesture. You squeezed his hand gently, reassuringly. “It was the two-year anniversary of my mom’s passing. And I was just—a mess. I didn’t want to be around anybody, but I also didn’t want to be by myself, you know? Some of my friends were going to this party off-campus, so I ended up going with them. But I was even more miserable there,” he explained, holding onto you a little tighter as he recounted the events of that night. “I didn’t drink or anything. I just—I guess I didn’t want to feel so alone. But, truth be told, I’d never felt more lonely in my whole life than I did surrounded by all those people.”

Your heart broke for him, hearing the obvious pain and heaviness in his words, even after all these years.

“I was just going to leave, but then I realized how drunk a couple of my friends were, and so I decided to drive them home first,” he went on, his eyes a little clouded as he thought back to that night. “They didn’t live too far from where the party was, so it wasn’t any trouble getting them back to their apartment. But then when I turned to head back to my dorm—”

His words trailed off for a moment and your stomach tightened in fear. You had a horrible feeling that you knew where this story was going.

“They were drunk. I don’t know if they had been at the party I was at or another party, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. They flew past the stop sign going over sixty miles per hour and T-boned my car as I was trying to make a turn.”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, your heart in your throat as Bradley told you more about the accident.

“The funny thing is that they somehow all walked away totally fine. My car—it, uh, flipped a few times,” he said, the words suddenly seeming a little bit more difficult for him to get out. “I don’t really remember much from the scene. I remember everyone telling me that I was lucky to be alive, that I was lucky I wasn’t paralyzed, and I guess they were right. I saw some pictures afterward and it was a really bad accident.”

“Oh, Bradley,” you breathed out tenderly, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tightly.

His arm tightened around you and you could feel him pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “I was in the hospital for a while. And I just remember—” His words got choked off for a minute as his voice flooded with emotion. He cleared his throat and then tried again. “I just remember—that it didn’t really feel like it mattered if I lived or died. I didn’t want to die, but I also kept thinking that I wanted my parents there and I knew they weren’t there. I knew they couldn’t be there. And I just thought, just for a minute or two, that if I died—if I died, I could see them again. I could be with them again.” Bradley’s voice cracked in two this time and you could feel his body trembling.

“Oh, baby,” you whispered, holding his face in your hands. “Oh, baby, I can’t even begin to imagine. You can stop now. You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to,” you told him, brushing his tears away with your thumbs.

Bradley took a deep breath, resting his hands over yours. “It’s okay,” he promised. “It’s okay.” He took a couple more deep breaths, his fingers pressing warmly against yours.

“People came, right? People came to see you?” you asked, your heart unable to take the thought of Bradley being all alone in the hospital after an accident like that.

Bradley was quiet for a moment, taking one more deep breath before continuing. “Mav came,” he said slowly.

You felt goosebumps rise on your skin. For as close as Bradley and Mav were now, you knew there had been a long time when Bradley refused to allow Mav into his life because of what had happened with his application to the Naval Academy. If he was a sophomore in college at the time of the accident, then that meant he wouldn’t have been on speaking terms with Maverick at the time.

“How did he know?” you wondered softly, chewing on your lower lip.

“My aunt called him. She was visiting my grandparents at the time and couldn’t get to the hospital. I found out after that Mav had been stationed at Oceana,” he explained, referring to the Naval Air Station in Virginia Beach—only a few hours away from UVA, where Bradley had gone to college. Bradley chuckled despite himself. “Iceman evidently pulled some strings so that he could be close by while I was in school.”

“So he came to see you?” you asked hesitantly. It had still taken over fifteen years for them to repair their relationship, so you doubted the meeting after the accident had gone well.

“He tried. He drove almost three hours to get to the hospital,” Bradley replied slowly, looking slightly ashamed. “But I wouldn’t see him. I made them tell him to leave,” he admitted, lowering his head.

You winced at that, recognizing the guilt that Bradley felt and imagining the pain that Mav must have felt.

“When I think about it now, it was so stupid. I was such an asshole for making him leave,” Bradley said, shaking his head. “But I was still so angry. I was so, so angry at him. I almost felt like letting him in just so I could throw it in his face. Just so I could tell him that maybe this wouldn’t have happened to me if he had just stayed out of my way and let me go to the Naval Academy like I wanted.” You could see the pain flash across his face from the memory. “You must think I sound so horrible.”

“I don’t,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “I think you sound like a nineteen-year-old boy who was grieving more than anybody should have to. I think you sound like you were in a lot of pain. And I’m so sorry for that,” you told him, lightly caressing his scarred cheek.

Bradley looked at you gratefully, tears still swimming in his dark eyes. “He never held it against me. And he didn’t try to force his way in. He respected my wishes. He just left,” he continued. “My aunt came back home as soon as possible and I lived with her for a while. I had to do some rehab and physical therapy. For a while, I was afraid that my dream of joining the Navy was really over. But I—I worked really hard and my therapists were really great. They really helped me a lot. And I guess at the end of the day, I am lucky. It could have been a lot worse. Even my scars could have been a lot worse.” He chuckled in a slightly self-deprecating way. “So that’s the long way of me telling you where my scars come from.”

You lay quietly beside him for a few moments, absorbing everything he had told you. This man, this wonderful man who you fell more in love with each day, had just bared his heart and soul to you in so many different ways. It wasn’t about the scars that marked his face. He had told you about so much more than those physical scars—he had revealed to you the deepest scars and wounds of his heart. He had been brave enough to show you every bruised and battered part of who he was, and to trust that you wouldn’t turn away, that you wouldn’t leave.

And you wouldn’t.

You loved this man. You loved him so much, scars and all. You didn’t love him in spite of his scars, but because of them. They made him exactly who he was—the loving, loyal, hardworking, generous, trustworthy man that lay beside you.

Sitting up slightly, you leaned over him and looked deeply into his eyes, your fingertips lightly dancing over his skin. Bending your head, you pressed tender kisses to each one of his scars, lavishing each one with love.

“Bradley Bradshaw, you are the most beautiful man I have ever known,” you told him, resting your forehead against his. He reached up to touch your face as your hair fell forward, creating a curtain that hid you two away from the rest of the world. “I love you. I love every piece of you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” Bradley murmured, running his fingers through your hair. “I feel like for the first time in my life, I actually want someone to see every part of me, no matter how broken or messed up. And it’s you, baby. It’s you.”

Lowering your head, your lips met Bradley’s in a kiss that was more pure and tender than anything you had ever known in your life. You both had scars that you carried, but for the first time, you weren’t afraid to show them. You weren’t afraid to let someone else offer to help you carry them.

You slowly settled back down against Bradley’s side, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you clung to each other. The night air was cool, and the rush of the waves roared nearby, but it felt like it was only you two wrapped in a wide blanket of stars.

“Thank you, baby,” Bradley whispered into the darkness.

You didn’t need to ask him what he was thanking you for. You could have thanked him for the same thing. It was for all the million and one ways, big and small, that you reminded each other that you weren’t alone. It was for the ways you had opened your hearts to each other and welcomed the scars and the pain without judgment.

It was for the ways you were healing each other.

You weren’t afraid of the mess. You weren’t afraid of the pain or the ugliness or the scars. None of that mattered so long as you had this man right by your side.

“The stars really are so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on the sky above.

Bradley nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Just like you.”

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

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