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ohgodnotagainn · 11 months

Text

girl in a coffee shop

summary → 4 times bob recommended a drink + 1 time he recommended something else.

warnings → swearing, allusions to sex, probably some typos in there, coffee shop au, everyone is like 28ish in this

length → 5.1K

pairing → robert "bob" floyd x fem reader

a/n → this is SO self indulgent, but it's turned into my favorite fic i've written thus far. i hope you all love it as much as i do. i love, adore, and appreciate feedback, but as always, be nice or be gone. if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist let me know.

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“You’d be the pretty girl in a coffee shop, sweet as candy lemon drops, with your favorite pair of Birkenstocks - that’d be you.”

You found Top Brews completely by accident - your apartment was proving to be too distracting to finish editing your last shoot and so, in a fit of frustration, you googled the closest cafe with free internet. Five minutes later, you were pulling into the parking lot with your laptop and a dream.

The shop was rather quaint - local artwork lined the walls and a variety of couches, armchairs, and tables littered the dark wooden floors. The place was alive with people slaving away on laptops, first dates, and old friends catching up over steaming lattes. You could tell these four walls harbored a community, and you wondered how you had missed it all this time.

Walking up to the bar you realized that the eclectic vibes weren’t what made this little shop special, it was the staff. A stunning brunette greeted you with a warm smile, and behind her you could see a blonde and a mustached man arguing over the ‘right’ way to do the dishes.

“Hey there! I haven’t seen you around here before - my name is Nat but you can call me Phoenix. I know the menu is a bit overwhelming, so if you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask!”

You weren’t sure how she could tell that you were overwhelmed, but you could guess it wasn’t uncommon for how extensive the chalkboard menu was. There were so many drink options you weren’t entirely sure where to start and you hadn’t thought much about what you would want in the short time it took you to slip on a pair of Birkenstocks and make the trek here.

“This is my first time in, do you have any recommendations?”

The smile on her face grew wider as she smacked the shoulder of a slender man with glasses hidden behind the espresso machine.

“Ahh, if you want recommendations then Bob here is your man. He’s yet to steer someone wrong and makes the best concoctions you’ll ever taste.”

Bob, as Phoenix called him, seemed startled when he looked up from the pitcher he was steaming. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his gentle ones, and you were intrigued by his calm demeanor despite all the hustle and bustle around him.

“Well then, Bob was it? I guess I’ll trust your reputation - surprise me, I’m not picky.”

You were finishing up paying when you heard Bob curse loudly, “Shit!” You glanced over just in time to see hot milk pouring over the edges of the metal pitcher onto his hands as he frantically turned off the steam wand. His neck and cheeks were painted red, no doubt embarrassed by what happened.

Words tumbled out of his mouth while he made quick work of wiping down the bar with a wet rag. “I - uh - I promise I know how to do my job, I just get so in the zone sometimes and I got distracted and Rooster is back there squawking so loud I can’t hear myself think and -”

His words and motions came to a halt as he heard you giggling, and though it may have been at his expense, he would do anything to hear it every day.

You tried to keep a straight face, but you were still in a fit of giggles as you said, “You guys keep a Rooster back there? I’m not sure the health department would appreciate that very much.”

At your words, the mustached man from the great dish debate whipped around with a hand to his chest and pretend indignation written on his face. “Excuse you! I’ll have you know that inspector Sharon loves me and my keen sense for knowing what needs to be clean and what needs to be dirty.”

Everyone behind the bar groaned in annoyance as Phoenix pushed him back towards the sink, “You’ve lost your privilege of talking you absolute buffoon, go back to the dishpit and reflect on your life choices,” she looked at the clock, then turned back to you and whispered, “Believe it or not, that’s the longest he’s made it without losing his talking privileges all week.”

“But it’s only 9:30?” you questioned.

A cup of mystery appeared in front of you as Bob cut in with a playful grin, “Yeah, he’s making some big strides. Yesterday he only got to 7:05. We open at 7:00.”

You met his eyes and shook your head laughing. “Sounds like you may have been better off with an actual rooster.” You lifted the cup, eyes widening as soon as the hot beverage hit your tongue. “Holy shit, Bob.”

His eyes widened to match yours as he started to reach for the cup, “Fuck do you not like it? I’m so sorry, I can make you something else -”

“Oh, no!” You were vehemently shaking your head, “I didn’t mean it like that,” You pulled the cup out of his reach, “This is just the best coffee I’ve ever had - where have you been all my life? You have to clue me in to what you made so I can order if you aren’t here.”

His heart was fluttering at your kind remarks and the idea of you coming in here more, but he tamped down the feeling. “It’s, uh, it’s a honey vanilla latte with cinnamon steamed into the oat milk.” With rosey cheeks he looked down at the rag in his hands and continued, “It’s actually my personal favorite.”

“Well, Bob, it might just be my new personal favorite too.” You slipped a $5 bill out of your laptop case and into the tip jar. You looked back at him and raised your cup with a wink, “Thanks again!”

Bob was stunned into silence and couldn’t help but watch you as you made yourself at home in a big armchair by the fireplace. Where had you been all of his life?

Phoenix once again startled him when she cleared her throat - he was so wrapped up in thoughts of you he forgot she was there. “Dude, what was that? I can’t even remember the last time you burned a pitcher of milk.”

Hangman joined in from the sinks, “Yeah, man, I didn’t think you were even capable of messing up - you must be down bad.”

He groaned at their prodding, “Fuck off, Jake, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He did know what Jake was talking about, but he wouldn’t admit that to the blonde - if his ego got any bigger they’d have to expand into the space next door to fit it all.

Instead, he let your words play on a loop in his head and snuck peaks at you cuddled in that armchair every chance he could.

He hoped and prayed to every God he could think of.

Please make her a regular.

“I wonder what it’s like to be in love by you, I wondered if I’d ever be in love for you. All these doubts in my head keep me from finding you.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You had to go back to there. You told yourself it was because the coffee had ruined other places for you, but you knew it was Bob. You had stayed in the shop for hours, somehow managing to get a substantial amount of work done between sneaking glances over your screen at the man who rocked glasses better than anyone you’d ever met. Would going back the very next day be weird? Maybe it was, but you didn’t care as you packed up your laptop and laced up your shoes.

The short journey felt like ages as your heart sped up with your wandering mind. Bob ran rampant through your brain and you found yourself unwilling to even try to stop - stuck on thoughts of him in your kitchen, crafting drinks on your Breville in the morning after a long night together.

You shouldn’t be thinking of someone you met once in this way. You didn’t even know if he had a partner already! You groaned and let your head hit the wheel - you had to get over it.

If you embarrassed yourself there was no way you could find another comparable shop - the coffee was simply too good and the internet too fast. Why go through all that when you were almost certain he wasn’t interested in you anyways?

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you gathered every ounce of courage in your body and went inside. You could do this.

Bob had spent his morning in a similar fashion, plagued by thoughts of you. He woke up thirty minutes earlier than usual, allowing himself extra time to get ready just in case you happened to come back.

Each time the little bell above the door rang he couldn’t help but check to see if it was you - and his heart sank a little deeper each time it wasn’t. What if you hated the coffee he made you yesterday and that’s why you didn’t come back? What would he say if you did come in the door? Would you give it to him if he asked for your number?

Who was he kidding? Even if you were single, he didn’t stand a chance when Rooster, Coyote, Hangman, and Phoenix were there.

Ding, ding.

He didn’t bother looking up this time.

“Bob! Hi!”

He had to be hearing things, had he officially gone crazy?

But sure enough, when he looked up he was met with your smiling face. Oh no. He had been thinking about you coming in all morning, but he wasn’t prepared for it to actually happen..

Say something, say something, say something..

“Oh, uh, hey!” Smooth, Bob. He hoped you didn’t see him cringe as soon as the words left his mouth. “Back again already?” Your smile faltered a bit at his words, and he caught his mistake immediately. “Not that I don’t want to see you again, because I do! I was hoping you’d come back, actually. I mean, not in a creepy way, of course.” He could feel himself rambling again, he had to bring this back before he really scared you off. “I’m sorry, let me try that again. Were you wanting the same coffee or do you want to try something new today?”

Now you were smiling wider than before - his rambling was endearing and your heart was nearly bursting at the fact that he was hoping you’d come in again.

“Well, I was going to get the same thing, but now that you mention it - I think I want to try something new. Got another ace up your sleeve?”

He couldn’t believe you were trusting him blind again.

A smile now graced his face too, “I think I’ve got one or two left.”

With an iced raspberry white mocha in hand and butterflies loose in your stomach, you set up camp in the same chair you had the day before.

Back up at the counter, Jake saddled up next to Bob.

“Two words - Down. Bad.”

“The glasses that you hardly wear .. and makeup, no you don’t really care"

Top Brews had all but become your office - now a permanent part of your daily routine. It had been two weeks since you first found the place but you couldn’t imagine life without it - the drinks were always stellar, you were friends with everyone on staff, and you were getting through work more efficiently than you ever had.

You really only had one problem with it - Bob. You suspected that if he was available and interested he would’ve made a move by now, but you couldn’t stop your growing feelings for the quiet barista and the little hearts he always poured on the tops of your lattes.

He made your mornings a little sweeter - often chatting with you over the red espresso machine while he whipped up your drink of the day. You rarely saw him do this with anybody else, usually too in the zone to make small talk, and you couldn’t help but feel special. He was never in too much of a rush to talk to you, and nobody else had ever made you feel so important before.

Through your chats you learned that he owned the place with Natasha, and overtime they somehow roped all of their friends from college into working there with them. Coyote overheard this and appeared out of thin air to inform you that it took major begging to get him to quit his office job and join the staff.

Bob informed you that it really only took a six pack of Dos Equis and the promise of priority aux privileges. (Coyote took a lot of pride in this, spending hours on Spotify crafting playlists for every occasion).

You also learned that, no, their parents don’t hate them, they just liked having their nicknames adorning their tags. They wanted those who came to know they were part of the squad, that they considered every single person who came through those doors a friend - regardless if they came in once or every day.

You looked forward to these chats more than you’d like to admit.

This particular morning you were not doing well. You had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, things going awry left and right. Your phone hadn’t been fully plugged in and you woke up late. You got a scathing email from an unhappy client, who demanded they get their non-refundable deposit back from the shoot they didn’t show up to. Another client didn’t make any indication whether they liked their gallery or not, leaving you even more insecure. You ripped your last pair of contacts and had to opt for glasses - that were four years old and out of prescription - instead. To top it off, you were missing one of your most important SD cards.

If you weren’t so superstitious, you would say that things couldn’t get any worse.

For once you were hoping to not see Bob. You didn’t feel like yourself and you were feeling rather self conscious about your appearance.

Like everything else that morning, you weren’t so lucky. You saw him the second you entered the building and scurried to your armchair instead of the counter to order like normal. You would have to set up camp first and get your coffee once he went to the bathroom or went on break.

Twenty minutes into working and you were left more frustrated than before. Lightroom was crashing on you every five photos, you were developing a migraine from the lack of caffeine, and Bob still had not moved from his place behind the bar. You could feel his eyes on you every so often and you knew he was probably figuring out how to nicely kick you out.

You were loitering after all.

Suddenly you felt a presence in front of you and you looked up to see Phoenix smiling down at you.

Here it comes.

Without a word, she produced a glass from behind her back and placed it on the little table next to you.

“You must have the wrong person, this can’t be for me - I haven’t ordered yet.” You told her, sheepishly pushing the glass away.

“No, I’m certain this is for you,” she nodded her head in Bob’s direction, who was currently looking anywhere but at you, “Something about how he could tell you’re having a bad day and could use a pick me up. He’s insisting it be on the house and instructed all of us to refuse letting you pay, so, don’t even try. Also, you cannot tell him I told you this, but he won’t shut up about how much he likes your glasses. I think you could get away with never paying here again if you wore those everyday.”

You were shocked, your mouth agape and unable to form words.

“Oh! I was also sent on operation pick-me-up to give you this,” she fished your SD card out of her apron pocket and handed it to you, “We found it sweeping yesterday and couldn’t tell if it was yours or not. Bob kept it in his wallet for safe keeping until we saw you today, just in case.”

You flipped the little disc around in your fingers - completely shellshocked now.

“I uh, I don’t even know what to say other than thank you, seriously. Are you sure I can’t pay? I feel bad and it’s really no trouble at all,” you said as you fished around in your laptop case for some cash.

Shaking her head, she started to walk away from you, yelling over her shoulder, “Don’t even try!”

You could feel your migraine dissipating as you sipped on the lavender cold brew topped with a sweet cold foam.

Bob had saved your entire day.

You slipped a $20 bill in the tip jar when no one was looking.

“Oh, I, could only hope that you would feel it too - if we locked eyes right here in this crowded room for just one second it’d just be us two”

A month had passed since your first visit and the tattered blue armchair by the fireplace was now your spot. Sure, it wasn’t written anywhere, but you were there for hours everyday like clockwork. It was common knowledge and the other regulars respected it as your territory, sometimes even going as far as leaving a jacket in place to make sure it was vacant upon your arrival.

You always sat there because it was the comfiest chair, you liked the warmth that came from the fireplace, and the internet connection in that specific part of the cafe was the strongest. You definitely didn’t always sit there because you had a stellar - and discreet - view of the bar.

Okay, maybe you did.

But if you couldn’t actually be with Bob, there was no harm in looking, right? How could you resist a few peaks here and there when his hands looked that good moving expertly around the bar?

Yeah, that was going with you to the grave.

It had been a busy morning and there was not an empty chair or table in sight. The crowd was overtaking your space and you could tell, even through your headphones, how loud it was getting. Even the internet was struggling to keep up with the traffic.

The most recent batch of photos was in the process of exporting and with how slow it was moving, you knew it was going to be a while.

You didn’t mind much. You could allow yourself generous looks at Bob without worrying so much about being caught - everyone behind the bar too preoccupied with the rush at hand to notice - and there was no guilt around being distracted from your own workload.

Without warning, Bob’s eyes snapped up and met your gaze.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

You had been caught red-handed, but your eyes stayed locked on his and you nodded at the freshy vacated chair next to yours in a silent invitation. The only way out of the embarrassment now was through, you had to pretend this was the plan all along.

Bob wanted nothing more than to join you in your corner, but there was a hoard of tickets still waiting to be made and Jake was scheduled to take his break first. With an exaggerated look of disappointment on his face he held up a cup in one hand and a pitcher in the other, shrugging his shoulders as a way to politely decline your invitation.

You nodded in understanding, but he didn’t miss the dejected look in your eyes as they dropped back to the laptop screen.

God damnit. He was grateful that his business was flourishing, but he finally had a chance and he was barred from taking it.

Unbeknownst to him, Rooster had seen the entire exchange.

“Hey man, I got bar so you can take your break,” he stated, leaving little room for argument.

“Oh, uh, I actually think Hangman is supposed to break first today,” Bob responded, eyes downcast and sadness laced in his tone.

Jake was quick to interject, “Yeah! I’m starving and I opened so if anyone is going on break its -”

He was cut off by Bradley’s elbow making sharp contact with his gut.

“Nope! It’s Bob. Here’s a slice of banana bread big enough for two, do with it what you will.” Bradley winked, shoving a plate in Bob��s hands and shooing him away from the counter

Hangman grumbled, still doubled over and cradling his stomach, “We really need an HR department.”

Bob ignored him as he untied his apron and grabbed two forks, making his way over to the fireplace before he could talk himself out of it.

You thought nothing of it when you felt a presence in the chair beside you - it had been occupied for almost the entire morning - but you were confused when a plastic fork suddenly appeared in front of your eyes.

“Not sure if I can finish this piece of banana bread on my own, interested in sharing?” Bob asked you with a blush on his cheeks.

You grabbed the fork out his hand and clinked it against his, “I would love nothing more.” You took a big bite and your eyes got large, “I need this recipe, I need it more than I’ve needed anything else in the history of needing things.”

Bob let out a chuckle, “I wish I could give it to you, but unfortunately Rooster has it under lock and key. Believe me when I say we’ve tried to get it from him since freshman year, but It’s his mom’s old recipe that they used to make together before she died.”

You were silent for a moment.

“That’s actually really sweet. Does he do a lot in the kitchen then?” you asked softly.

Laughing, Bob answered, “Oh absolutely not, he’s a master baker but I wouldn’t trust him to make a box of mac n’ cheese. A truly horrid cook.” You laughed this time, and he continued, “He was actually the first one to join the team here, his only request was that he wanted to bake. He says it’s to keep the memory of his parents alive, but truthfully I think it’s when he feels closest to them.”

You hummed in understanding and took another bite, “Well, here’s to Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw then.”

Bob took another bite before raising his fork, “Here, here!”

The conversation stood still for a moment before you turned to Bob with a serious look on your face, “Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback, Hangman, Coyote - everyone else has silly nicknames. How come you don’t have one?”

“Bob actually is a nickname, even though it’s a derivative of my real name. I used to go by Robby, but when I was sharing a dorm with Hangman our freshman year he would always use Bob’s Burgers to fall asleep.”

“That’s absurd! Everyone knows that American Dad is the superior adult cartoon for sleeping purposes!” you quipped.

“That’s what I always said!” Bob agreed before continuing, “Anyways, the opening jingle started to really drive me crazy but I never said anything about it until one fated day when he put it on while we were all hanging out. I heard one note and went ballistic - we got in the biggest fight we’ve ever had and it ended with him saying that I was ‘jealous that I was the inferior Bob.’ The name just stuck after that,” He ended with a shrug.

You had a hand over your mouth, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You started laughing, and before he knew what was happening, Bob was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes and his stomach was burning.

Wiping away stray tears, he looked down at his watch and a deep frown overtook his features.

“Are you okay?” You asked, suddenly worried that you had offended him by laughing so hard.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I’m just bummed that my break is almost over, none of those fools,” he pointed to the bar, “keep as good of company as you do.”

You watched as Rooster and Hangman thumb wrestled, Fanboy and Payback standing to the side, acting as referees, “I don’t know, that looks like a pretty intense match.” Bob just laughed again and shook his head.

“I enjoyed this too, you know. You should join me on your breaks more often, Robby.”

“I look forward to it,” he said earnestly, leaving you to enjoy your iced strawberry matcha with a new stampede of elephants taking residence in your stomach.

“I’m just another boy in a coffee shop, dreaming of a love that’s not .. I’m just dreaming of a girl in a coffee shop”

Another month had come and gone, and Bob didn’t let a day go by without sitting with you on his break. If he sometimes took 25 minutes instead of 15, well, nobody said anything about it. Everyone loved you, and everyone loved how happy you seemed to make Bob.

Everyone was, however, frustrated beyond belief that neither of you had made a move yet.

Phoenix was the first to crack, and it was under her supervision that operation intervention staff meeting (everyone thought the name Rooster pitched was stupid, but nobody could come up with something better) was born.

When Bob arrived at her house, ready to handle all the usual housekeeping, he was surprised to find that everyone was already there and sitting in a circle - he always the first to arrive.

“Bob, dear boy. Come in and sit with us.” Rooster said, trying to act normal yet failing miserably.

The weird tension in the room was palpable, and Bob was unsure what to do other than oblige, “What’s going on?” he asked, before finding a place to sit between Fanboy and Phoenix.

“We’ve decided, dear boy, that you finally grow a spine and ask her out,” Rooster replied, crossing his arms.

“First of all, stop calling me ‘dear boy’ - it’s really weird. Second of all, ask who out? I don’t know what you guys are on about.” Bob coolly responded.

Suddenly a hoard of pillows was thrown his way and everyone wore the same displeased look on their faces. They were obviously talking about you, and they knew that Bob knew they were talking about you.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I get it. I can’t ask her out though! I love talking to her everyday, she’s one of my best friends at this point. It would make things weird,” he continued.

Hangman groaned, responding before anyone else could, “You really think that would make it weird? Really? After two months of weird sexual tension that everyone but the two of you can see?”

Now he was on the receiving end of the swarm of throw pillows as a chorus of “not the time” “really Hangman?” and “you’re disgusting” rang out.

Payback, who had been quietly observing up until this point, decided it was time to step in. “Listen, man. If you really don’t want to ask her out, none of us are going to make you do it.” Phoenix looked like she was about to object but he shot her a look, “None of us are going to make you do it.”

Bob looked relieved for a moment, but Payback wasn’t finished yet, “However, I think you’re doing yourself, and her, a huge injustice if you don’t. She looks at you like you hung the stars, and you look at her like she hung the moon. We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, but don’t you want to find out how much sweeter life can be if you stopped selling yourself short?”

“I don’t know how, and I’m scared.” Bob said quietly.

Everyone seemed to sober at his words, and Phoenix pulled him into a tight hug on the couch. She took hold of his hands and looked him in the eyes, “Then we’ll help you figure it out, and we’ll be there with you every step of the way. You deserve this, Bob, don’t let her pass you by only wondering what could’ve been.”

So, they all spent the rest of the night coming up with a plan - eventually falling asleep sprawled around Phoenix’s living room.

•••••

Everything seemed normal when you arrived at Top Brews, albeit there did seem to be a fair fewer cars in the parking lot. You didn’t think much of it, though, Tuesday’s were generally a pretty slow day at the shop.

It wasn’t until you walked up to the door and noticed the sign that said your name and to not enter unless it was you that you realized this was not going to be an average Tuesday morning.

Once inside, you followed a trail of meticulously placed coffee beans to your usual corner, where Bob sat nervously with a coffee mug in one hand and a bouquet of daisies in the other. You could barely hear Billy Joel over the blood rushing to your head, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves and anticipation crash into you.

You had a million questions, but settled on a familiar one instead, “What’s in the cup today, Robby?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a honey vanilla latte with cinnamon steamed into the oat milk. I’m not sure if you remember this or not, but I made it for you the first time you came in,” he stopped for a moment to take a deep breath, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day. I’ve tested a thousand different recipes - not all winners, by the way - to make sure I can always make you something new. I used to hate taking breaks, but since I started sitting with you they are the highlight of my day. I never realized how much I missed being called Robby until you said it. I really don’t want to mess this up with you, you make my life sweeter in every way without even realizing it. If this is weird, and I’m misreading things, feel free to walk out that door and pretend this never happened but I am begging you, if that’s the case, please don’t stop coming -”

He was cut off by your lips making contact with his.

Pulling back, you allowed your eyes to meet his, “I remember every drink you’ve ever made me, I keep them saved to a list on my phone. I came back to this shop because of you. Watching you make drinks and sing whatever song is playing under your breath because you think nobody is looking has become my favorite pastime. I can’t even use my own Breville anymore because all I can think about is you using it instead. You’ve overtaken every inch of my brain and you’ve made the most bitter days sweet again. I could never stop coming through that door because I know you’re on the other side of it. This is by far the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, and I love it.”

You connected your lips to his again when a sudden roar of cheers and clapping filled the space.

Bob pulled away this time - laughing softly at your startled expression whilst the others poured out of the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah, I had a little help.”

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

Text

I Don't Start Shit, But I Can Tell You How It Ends

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother, Dagger Squad vs. Davis

✦Word Count: 2.8 K

✦Warnings: Protective!Hangman, Angry!Hangman, Protective!Dagger Squad, Asshole Guy, Failed Drugging, Jake hints at killing people...

✦A/n: The Dagger Squad finally gets ahold of Mathew's old Principle. They really hate the man, we all do tbh! Day 2 of 500 celebration!!!!

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

He’d told you he wouldn’t go to the school, and Jake Seresin was nothing if not a man of his word. Especially when the promise was made to you. No, Jake had informed Rooster of the situation. Of how the piece of shit, Davis, had touched you and made completely inappropriate comments about not only you, but also Mathew.

Jake had gone to Rooster knowing that the information would have him on a manhunt, and it did. Rooster was overwhelmingly protective of you, and though Jake had hated it at times, right now he was more than thankful for it. What Jake hadn’t meant to have happen, was to have Bob overhear him and Rooster talking.

No, that was defiantly not a part of the plan.

Though it quickly became a part of it.

“I figure, you go in and sweet talk the office Lady and —”

The slam of the locker room doors had Jake pausing, both him and Rooster looking over their shoulders to see a fuming Phoenix.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her tone has both the pilots, exchanging a worried glance. Glancing behind Phoenix’s form at the other two male pilots, hoping that their faces would provide a revelation.

Jake's eyes first meet Coyote, a hard unamused gaze meeting his own. His eyes leave his best friend, to flitter between Bob’s own unusually hard gaze and Phoenix, her eyes never leaving his own. Her hands rested on her hips, giving both Jake and Rooster a ‘What The Fuck’ look.

“Nix baby, what’s wrong?” Rooster's tone causes a scoff to fall from Phoenix’s lips, taking a step toward the two of them. Both Rooster and Jake to step back, one hand leaving her hip to point at the two of them. A silent accusation.

“When were you going to tell me that my sister-in-law,” Her gaze cutting to Bradley harshly. “and god-son were getting FUCKING harassed by some idiot Principal.”

Both of them remained quiet; never noticing, until now, that lock room floors were remarkably shiny.

“Hmm?”

“Baby, I was going to tell you—”

“Don’t even Chicken,” the name instantly shutting the man up. She’d only ever used it on him when he was in trouble, using it more often than she did his actual name. “You are sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He shouldn’t have laughed, but Jake loved to see Rooster get in trouble. His laugh quickly dies though, when Phoenix’s pointed finger cuts to him.

“And you, what was the plan? Huh?”

“Trace, I had a plan.”

The sound of dripping water echoed through the silent locker room, each of the pilots waiting for Jake to continue. Jake’s eyes moved back to Rooster, who remained not only silent, but looked like he’d just gotten his favorite toy taken away from him.

Jake’s eyes rolled, realizing that Rooster would be no help to him. The 6-foot-something pilot was already in the doghouse with the wife, and wouldn’t be risking getting more sleepless nights on the couch.

“I mean it’s a work in progress, me and Rooster were hashing it out.”

A grunt leaves Rooster, “Look baby I was just listening, and then I was gonna come tell you.”

His head slowly nodding, “Yeah, I was actually about to tell Hangman that we need your input.”

It was clearly a lie, everyone knew it.

But Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, was in fact the biggest suck-up to his wife. If Jake wasn’t so in love with you, he would’ve laughed. Though from the moment he had met you, he was yours. You said jump, and he said how high.

“You’re an idiot. I love you, but you’re an idiot.” Walking over to Rooster, she gives him a soft kiss, her gaze then bouncing between Jake and Rooster. “But also, you do need me.”

….

Phoenix’s plan was no doubt better, than what the two pilots had initially thought of. Rooster didn’t love the fact that Phoenix was the “bait” in the situation, but she’d quickly told him to shut up before the protest could leave his mouth.

The first part of the plan had worked smoothly, Phoenix and Bob had quickly found Davis’s Facebook page and found the general area in which he lived. They had also learned what car he drove, and like the damn detective that she was, Phoenix found the man’s choice grocery store to shop at.

The momentum of the plan acceleration, like a snowball rolling down the hill. With a “accidental” meeting in the fresh fruit section, Phoenix quickly had a date set with the man.

That was last week which led to here and now, as Phoenix sat at the bar in the Hard Deck, wearing a dress and waiting for her date to show up. The guys crowded around the pool table, causally playing as if they weren’t about to beat the shit out of some middle-aged man soon enough.

You were home with Mathew and Jake knew that you wouldn’t be coming out. He would usually be with you and Maty, but he’d told you that he needed to handle an issue at the Hard Deck with Roos. You hadn’t even questioned it, only asked if he would be coming by after, to which he replied of course.

…

The bar was slightly crowded for a Thursday night, though it didn’t stop the pilots from clocking the door every time it opened. Before long, Davis had shown up, 20 minutes late to the “date,” but he had showed.

Jake notices the way Phoenix slightly stiffens as Davis’s hand rests a tad low on her lower back, and he has to grab Rooster before he goes and beats the shit of the man. Phoenix glances back at the group of guys, meeting Rooster's eyes and giving him a silent ‘I’m okay.’ He relaxes slightly in Jake’s hold, but is still slightly tense as he moves back to the pool table. The group continues the game of pool, eyes fleeting between the game and the bar.

They watch as Phoenix holds a conversation with the man, though maintains a safe distance from his wandering hands. They hadn’t told Penny about the plan, the group of pilots grin as they notice her continually checking in on Phoenix.

….

Penny had once again made her way over to Phoenix and the man, giving her a smile and the man a harsh glare. Penny knew that this couldn’t be one of Phoenix and Rooster's plans to spice up their marriage, no she could tell that this was different.

“Can I get you two a refill?”

“Yeah baby, get me a beer and – ” Davis looks over to Phoenix, before turning back to Penny. “Get her cocktail.”

Penny recoils at the name he calls her and glances back to Phoenix who has remained silent.

“She usually takes a beer or shoots liquor, buddy.”

“Yeah, well cocktails are ladylike.”

The comment has both the women rolling their eyes, Penny’s eyes moving back to the group of pilots, and raises an eyebrow at Rooster.

Rising up from her seat, the dress fluttering down around her hips, drawing Davis’s eyes directly to her tan legs, catching his gaze, Phoenix scoffs.

“Get me whatever Pen, I’m going to the bathroom.”

She leaves before Davis can say anything, more than fed up with the overly handsy and sexist man. Making her way past the group of pilots, she silently looks at them, before going into the bathroom.

…

Jake is making his way to the bar before the bathroom door is fully closed. He slides up to the bar, right next to Davis as he flags down Penny.

“Penny ma’ dear, can I get a whiskey?”

He can feel Davis’ eyes on him, silently watching and assessing. While waiting for Penny, Jake leans his back against the bar, his eyes finally landing on Davis.

“Do I know you?” Jake’s eyes stare at the man, like a lion taunting his prey.

“Nah, don’t think so.”

The reply is short and to the point, but it has Jake laughing slightly. Turning back to lean his forearms on the bar, his gaze harsh and waiting for Davis to bite.

“No, I know you from somewhere.”

Davis doesn’t get a chance to answer as Penny arrives again handing Jake the whiskey and setting down the two drinks for Phoenix and Davis.

“You drinking that girly shit man? Cuz I know Nix doesn’t.”

The comment makes Davis release an uneasy breath, before ignoring Jake altogether. The pilot looks back over his shoulder at the group of guys patiently waiting by the pool table.

If he hadn’t turned back when he did, Jake would have missed it. Lucky, Jake sees it as Davis mixes a bag of powder into Phoenix’s drink.

“Oh buddy, you did not just do that.”

Though the words sound light, the comment is anything but as Jake lays a hand harshly on Davis’s shoulder.

“Listen here, this has nothing to do with you. So just go back to your little friends and leave me be.”

Jake’s tongue slightly clicks at the man, head caulking to the side and laying a harsh gaze upon him. His eyes calculating as ever. Jake has been pissed off before, but now, after this, he was just about ready to kill Davis.

The tick of his jaw, gives Jake away “You know, I thought you looked familiar. You are the piece of shit, who fucked with my girl.”

Grasping the glass of whiskey, Jake shoots the rest of it back. Arm falling to rest upon bar, as he gives Davis his signature award-winning smirk.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen, Penny ma’ dear you’re going to ring that bell and asshole here is going to pay for a round of drinks.” His soft gaze moves from Penny and back to a clearly worried Davis, eyes instantly hardening when they make contact with Davis‘s own.

“Me and you, we’re gonna go outside and have a little talk, about how you treat women.”

Before he can reply, Bradley and Coyote each grab one of Davis’s arms, and drag him out of the bar as Penny rings the bell in the background. Davis lands harshly on the ground, as Rooster and Coyote release him with a harsh shove. The group of pilots crowded around him, each of them staring down at him with bitter gazes.

“I don’t know wha—”

The words instantly die on Davis’s lips, as Jake crouches down next to him. The surrounding group intent on quietly watching; waiting for Jake to make the first move. Rooster hadn’t seen, the way Davis slipped a powder into Phoenix’s drink, though when he found out Jake was sure he’d want to kill the man just as much.

“Now I’m sure you don’t remember, given that you seem like the type of scum that regularly hits on women without their consent.”

The harsh jab Jake lays on the man’s chest, send him back a bit. The boys had seen Jake mad before, but never like this. Never with such fire and anger burning in his green eyes.

“You see, you made my girl cry. Not just that, you put your hands on my girl, and then you have the nerve to talk about how she’s raising our son.”

Sure, Mathew wasn’t his son yet legally, but with or without the paperwork he was still Jake’s boy.

“She showed up at your office, wanting to have a talk about how your school had been treating Mathew. But she comes home to me crying and hides in the bathroom until I knocked the fuckin’ door down.”

His voice slowly rose with every word, and watching as his words sink in. Jake laughs as he watches Davis pales upon his realization of the words. Jake’s hand raises up to smack Davis gently across the face laughing as he does so.

“Ahhhh, there it is.”

Jake quickly rises back up to stand over the man, turning back around to the group of pilots and motions them to go grab him. As Rooster and Coyote grab onto the man, lifting him back onto his feet, Jake slowly makes a show.

He always like to show off, it made people uneasy. Jake liked making sure everyone knew just how good he was. He glances over his shoulder, as he unbuttons the khaki uniform top, pulling it off so he’s only wearing the white undershirt with his khaki pants. Glancing back at the man with that well-known smirk,

“Can’t have you bleeding on my good clothes.”

He says it so easily, but he knows that it hits its mark, as Davis shutters slightly in Coyote and Roosters hold.

The sound of the bar doors opening, has the group looking back toward the entrance. Watching as Phoenix exits the bar and makes her way to the group.

“Did I miss anything?”

Davis silently stares at the woman, his eyes moving between Jake and her. The realization slowly crept in that this whole night was a set-up; the meet-up in the grocery store, Jake coming up to him in the bar, and now here with his back pressed against the side of the bar wall.

“Not a thing, Trace.”

The shift of Davis’ shoulders sends everyone's eyes back to him, watching and calculating just how bad his night might become.

“Now as you can tell, well maybe you can’t cause you’re an idiot, but we’re all in the Navy. And with the Navy, comes call signs.”

Jake’s form comes to a halt, staring down Davis with a wicked smile that just about sends Rooster and Coyote running.

“My callsign, well there are few people that know the real reason behind it, but you’re about to find out buddy.”

Glances are exchanged between the other pilots, though it’s Coyote's gaze that never leaves Jake’s. He’d been there when Jake earned the name Hangman. It had been a long time ago, but he knew that Jake, still lay just beneath the surface.

“See everybody likes to assume, that it’s because I like flying alone. Well, that just ain’t it, nope.”

The calculated steps, unnerving gaze, and the way in which Jake talks were clearly meant to scare the man.

Let it be known, that when you pissed Jacob Grant Seresin off, all hell would break loose.

Jake’s right arm shootouts, to grasp Davis’s neck so fast that I has Phoenix gasping. The other pilots only shift slightly at the brutal action.

“No, I got named Hangman because I’ve been known to string up men and play the judge, jury, and executioner.”

With each title that falls from his lips, Jake lifts Davis slowly until his feet no longer touch the ground and the only thing keeping him up, is the hand clasped around his neck.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The group of pilots remain unmoving, all watching in unnerving silence and slowly comprehending the way in which Jake actually got his callsign. Davis tries to nod his head, though the hand around his neck makes it near impossible. As if only to taunt him more, Jake taps his ear slightly with his left hand.

“What was that?”

Shades from red to a light purple, start to cover Davis’s face, a clear sign of his lack of oxygen. His mouth moves though no words can fall from it. A sharp chuckle leaves Jake’s lips, as he loses his grip slightly as the man gasps for air.

“I understand.” The panting of his breath only makes Jake smile widen.

“Good.”

As the single word is muttered from Jake’s lips, the right hand once clasped over Davis’ neck drops. His body falls to the floor on the concrete, causing him to lean back against the bar wall, gasping for air.

“And I thought you would be more fun to break.” His tone light and easy, completely unfazed by the events that just occurred.

Jake reaches over to take his shirt from Phoenix, giving each of his friends the smile that they all came to know once Jake met you. He was a completely different person, than the one he was just moments ago. As he pulls the shirt back on, without missing a beat Jake lowers himself down to Davis. Laughing slightly at how the man flinches away from him.

“Don’t ever come around my girl or son again.”

The tone of his voice sends another shockwave through Davis’s body. Rising without any care for the man, Jake kicks the man’s limp foot before turning ready to get home to you.

A final glance over his shoulder, to the group of his friends still standing around Davis unsure of what to do.

“Hey Roos, I forgot to tell you that he tried to drug Nix.”

The final words, might as well have been those that a coroner would’ve signed in the finalization of the death certificate.

#better man universe #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #javy coyote machado #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch

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thiswaytwoinfinity · 18 days

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Which of the daggers do you think you'd have to remind not to look directly at the sun during the eclipse?

I feel like Bradley for sure, possibly Mickey and Javy? Nat is torn between yelling at them to put their glasses back on and wanting to see if they really will go blind.

Bob, meanwhile, brought eclipse glasses for everyone and is hissing intensely at anyone who talks during it. (He's a space nerd through and through.)

Payback is taking dad photos of it by holding the glasses up to his phone camera and snapping a million times.

Jake wants to know how much longer they're all gonna stand there for. He thought it was cool for the first few minutes, but he can't stay still any longer.

And Mav is just pouting because he wasn't asked to fly one of the rockets NASA is launching towards the eclipse.

#top gun maverick #top gun headcanons #tgm headcanons #dagger squad #my beautiful husband bob floyd #phoenix my beloved #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

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roosterscockpit · 2 years

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I need a high quality copy of this picture 😍🥹

#miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #robert bob floyd #javy coyote machado #rueben payback fitch #top gun

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

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Line of Sight

Top Gun: Maverick Jake “Hangman” Seresin x gn!WSOreader [no use of y/n]

1.8k | You’ve got to love how glasses can make even the hottest man then times hotter

====

Genre: fluff, crushing

CW: swearing

A/N: I saw a photo of Glen Powell in glasses and now that’s all I ever want to see. (Also, I wrote this on mobile again. So extra apologies if it looks weird or there’s more typos!!) || cross-posted on ao3

===

“I don’t see why you can’t just get the surgery,” Jake said, settling further into the uncomfortable office chair. The kind that were made for ten minutes of sitting and not two hours. You clearly didn’t know that though because you’d spend the past two hours on your feet, pacing.

He hadn’t wanted to spend his weekend this way. With you dragging him to various doctors appointments. He actually had a full day of cardio and lifting planned out before beers at the bar tonight, but he couldn’t turn you down once you gave him those puppy dog eyes. They were his favorite feature of yours, your eyes. He could get lost in them… and had on many occasions.

And here you were, trying on dozens of pairs of lenses that would be a barrier between him and Heaven itself.

“Because, Bagman,” you said, tilting your chin down slightly to stare at him over your latest pick. “I’m scared of those lasers fucking my eyes up.”

He scoffed. You were as bad a Rooster some days. Perched on a ledge watching life pass you by. At least you managed to keep Jake on his toes. As quick in the air as you were with your comebacks.

“How ‘bout these.” You pushed the pair up on the bridge of your nose and struck a pose that Jake could only roll his eyes at. “Hot, right?”

“You’re scared of lasers fucking up your eyes, B, but you go and pick out a frame that fucks up your whole face like that?”

If Hangman were looking - and he wasn’t - he could have sworn your face fell a bit at his comment.

Jake waved his hands at the wall. “Try on another one,” he said, purposefully avoiding looking at the small pile you’d already stacked on the technicians desk.

Off you went to peruse the wall of frames with your hands on your hips. Jake wasn’t entirely sure why you were so determined to find the perfect pair. The Navy didn’t exactly allow many choices. But you had been insistent on showing Jake every pair and he, rightfully so, had shot down every single one.

Perhaps slightly harsher than he’d been meaning to come off. It was unfair to take out the frustration of not being able to look you in the eye as well on you. Then again, they were your eyes.

Your eyes. Bright and fierce and blinding. Like the sun.

“I don’t understand what you have against glasses,” you called out to Hangman over your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you have against lasers,” he countered. When you didn’t respond, Jake let a smug smirk settle on his lips. “You could get contacts.”

He watched you shudder as you plucked another pair off the never ending wall of Jake Seresin torture devices. “And touch my eyes? No thank you.”

Jake sighed. You were impossible to reason with. Consistently so considering you’d been this way since he’d met you in flight school. It was how you’d gotten your callsign: Brick.

Because talking to you some days was like talking to a wall.

For obvious reasons, you took immediate offense to the name, but it stuck. Not everyone had the luxury of choosing their own callsigns in this job. One way or another you were going to end up with a nickname you hated. That’s just how the military worked. At least your commanding officers gave you a choice. Brick, bull, or mule. All stubborn. All equally as terrible.

You sulked for a week after that. Easily Jake’s favorite version of you because you had sought him out no matter where he was and hovered until he’d made some smart ass comment that brought a beautiful smile through. He’d always been the one to break down that wall, but you’d, steadily, build it right back up.

“I could put them in for you, B?” He offered, pinching the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut hard. Jake was ready to craft you a new pair of eyes if it meant the pair of you could. Leave. This. Office.

“These,” you said, “these are the pair.”

“I don’t think…” but the words died on his lips as he lifted his head. Jake couldn’t do anything but stare. If you were to ask, he wouldn’t be able to tell you the date or year or his own name. All he would be able to do is tell you how stunning you looked.

You grinned, and it made him want to stand up and cross the office and take your face into his hands and kiss that stupid grin right off your face. Jake wouldn’t even mind if the frames of those glasses got in his way. They were ridiculously hot. “Yup.” You grinned wider at the heat working its way up his neck. “These are the ones.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, unable to come up with a good reason for you to abandon this pair. “That’s the pair.”

“You should try some on, Hangman.” You tapped at the side of your frames, still wearing that stupid smile. It was so carefree that he couldn’t help but return it. “Who knows, you might like them.”

His smile flatlined and he crossed his arms. Pouty, like you had been when you asked him to come with today. “I won’t like it. I don’t wear glasses.” You shook your head at him. “I don’t! They’re a sign that I’m anything less than perfect and we can’t have that.”

“We can’t have that,” you echoed, rolling your eyes. “C’mon. I won’t tell anyone about your slip into mediocrity for one day.”

“I want to leave, Brick.”

“Not until you try on a pair of glasses.”

“No.” You crossed your arms at him, mimicking his posture. “I’m serious.”

The sigh you let out almost does Jake in. He’s tempted to try on every pair of glasses. Just to please you, but this asshole mask has been fixed firmly in place for so many years. There’s no sense is removing it to make room for glasses.

“I’m serious, too.” He made a show of making himself as comfortable as possible in this impossibly uncomfortable chair.

“Jake.”

“Nope.”

“Seresin.”

“Not happening.”

“Hangman.”

“Brick.”

“Wall.” You point at yourself.

And that’s when Jake realizes there’s no winning this fight. Not with you digging your heels in like this.

“Fine,” he relented. “One pair. So they better be good.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Giving a stubborn person like you a task demanding perfection. “Oh not those, please.”

Your hand hovered over a pair of Ray-Bans that look suspiciously like a different WSO’s. “Why not? They look good on Bob.”

“Glasses do not make a person more attractive.” Jake prided himself for the slightest moment on not stuttering during that little white lie, though he couldn’t bring himself meet your eye. You were too good at picking out his fibs. “I am not wearing Bob’s glasses.”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “They make Bob look hot.”

“You think Bob - callsign ‘Bob’ - is hot?” Something hot shot through Jake. Same as when he was up in the air and Rooster catches Mav’s praise instead of him. “Since when?”

“Since he stared giving you ego checks.” You plucked a pair of glasses off the wall in a haphazard, random fashion and make your way over to Jake. “Here,” you say, “these are going to look good.” You bend over to put a pair of thick-framed black glasses on his face. Completely opposite of the pair Bob wore. He smelled the detergent you used on your clothes on laundry duty last night. He tried hard not to look like he leaned in closer as you move away to look at him.

“Well?” Jake asked, bringing a hand up to monkey with them. “How do I look.”

“I’d be able to tell if you’d sit still for once in your life,” you huffed. Then stomped over to readjust them and Jake let himself bask in the warmth of your nearness a little longer. “You’re as bad as Payback.”

“You’re doing an awful lot of comparin’ today, B.” Hangman laughed as you stuck your tongue out him. His careful eyes watched you walk backward to take him in again. “So, verdict?”

“They’re- uh, you… you look fine.” The stony facade of flirting and nothing more has cracked. Jake can see by the way you fiddled with your fingertips and the part in your lips as you held back a sigh.

He sat up with a laugh. “You’re swooning!” Jake pulled himself out of his chair and reached for a mirror. The reflection that stared back was handsome. A scholar more than a smartass. If he ever matured, this would be the perfect way to show it.

“Okay, Narcissus.” You snatched the mirror from his hands. It is returned to the table. Face down. “Enough staring at yourself.”

“I’m more Adonis than Narcissus, wouldn’t you say?” He laughed at the groan you let out. “What? I can’t help how hot I am in glasses.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I’m hot, but am I Bob hot?” He teased.

“Oh, shut up.” You plop down in the empty chair next to him, rubbing at your neck, and avoiding his eye.

“You’re turning red…” he said, lips quirking back into a devilish grin - “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Seresin!” - “Red as a brick!”

You rolled your eyes at his stupidity, and he was glad to still clearly see that glint of affection through your glasses. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It kills the joke if I have to explain it, B.” He nudged you softly with his elbow. “I should have expected it, being the smartest one in the room and all.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” He pulled down his glasses to look at you over the tops of the frames.

“Not remotely.”

“Not enough to buy me lunch?”

You let out a laugh. He wanted to freeze that moment in time to capture this flirtatious laugh of yours. “Definitely not that much.”

“I just spent an entire Saturday following from doctor to dentist to doctor-”

“Fine,” you cut him off, “I’ll buy lunch, Bagman.”

“Dick.”

“Hey!” You snap your head to the side to look at him and use one finger to push your glasses down so that you’re staring Jake straight in the eye. “It’s Brick to you, sir.”

“That completely defeats the purpose of having glasses, you know.”

You smiled. He wanted to drop his gaze down to your lips but knew the implications that would hold. So, instead, he held your gaze.

“I know, I just want to look at you.”

His heart stuttered at your words. The two of you stare for longer than either of you had dared to push past before turning to look your separate ways. Maybe coming with wasn’t such a bad decision.

====

Tag list:

@rosiahills22

#top gun maverick #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #rueben payback fitch

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yikes-00 · 1 year

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Breaking news: tits edition (2/?)

#jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado #rueben payback fitch #dagger squad #robert bob floyd #hangster #top gun maverick #tgm #Omaha #the tit agenda #Bradley bradshaw is a tit man

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

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“Hey, listen, uhh… we fucked up.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #jake seresin #javy coyote machado #javy machado #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace #rueben fitch #rueben payback fitch #mickey garcia #mickey fanboy garcia #the hangover 2009

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floydsglasses · 4 months

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𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗕𝘂𝘁..

{All the daggers + maverick}

...Bradley is pretty like the sun setting during the summer

....Jake is pretty like Clear Skies over a beach

...Natasha is pretty like a wild fire that sparked a firework show

...Bob is pretty like when you dance in the pouring rain

...Mickey is Pretty like nature reclaiming whats her

...Rueben is pretty like sunrise reflecting off on the water

...Javy Is Pretty like the lights from an amusement park

...Pete is pretty like swimming in the ocean

I had so much fun with this guys and I also enjoyed making part 2,

#top gun maverick #top gun moodboard #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch #javy coyote machado #pete maverick mitchell #top gun imagine #top gun au #top gun maverick fanfic #moodboard aesthetic #aesthetic moodboard #Pretty like! Daggers

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beezelarts · 5 months

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Perhaps I can finish this one before Christmas

Stay tuned!!!

#hangster #rooster x hangman #sereshaw #hangman x rooster #top gun maverick #javynat #top gun fanart #machatrace #hangster fanart #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch

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fandomqueen6754 · 1 year

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Ice’s favorite kids are Hangman, Bob, Halo, Omaha, Coyote, Harvard and Yale

Mav’s favorite kids are Rooster, Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Fritz

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hearts-4buck · 10 months

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them 🫶🫶

maybe one day I'll post smth other then tgm

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ohgodnotagainn · 10 months

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closing time

summary → another night closing the shop at top brews

warnings → swearing, probably some typos in there, coffee shop au, everyone is like 28ish in this

length → 1.1K (a short lil guy)

pairing → robert "bob" floyd x fem reader

a/n → before you ask, yes, i did change the name of the coffee shop from "daily brews" to "top brews." nobody question me, i like this name better moving forward in this universe. i've had a hard time writing recently but i'm excited to dig down and get back into this ever expanding coffee shop au. i love, adore, and appreciate feedback, but as always, be nice or be gone. if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist let me know.

this takes place in the same universe as my other fic "girl in a coffee shop". i recommend reading that first, but it isn't necessary to understand this one.

▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️

Closing time, open all the doors and let you out into the world. You heard the opening lyrics begin to fill the space as you took notice of the time - 5:57. It was a nightly tradition at Top Brews for Closing Time to carry over the speakers, acting as a little nudge to the last few stragglers.

As you slowly packed up your laptop case, you got a kick out of watching Rooster plead with old Ms. Johnson in a losing battle to get her out the door. Finally, he got her to agree to leave, but not without promising that they’d chat about her cats the following day. Offering his elbow, he helped her up and escorted her to the door - waving her off with a bright smile before locking the door.

When he turned back around his eyes found yours, “Well, well, well,” he began, clicking his tongue at you, “What do we have here? Don’t you know what time it is?”

Just as you were about to respond, Bob came walking out of the backroom lugging a bin of ice in each hand, “Leave her alone, Rooster.”

“Oh, c’mon, man! Bean knows I’m just messing around,” Rooster gestured to you, “Tell him!”

Your heart lit up at the nickname. The last six months had been a whirlwind and you finally felt like you had earned your place in the squad when you got your own silly name to match the rest of them. It was Bob who initially called you Bean, often reminiscing on the day you two finally owned up to your growing feelings and the trail of coffee beans that lead you there. It wasn’t long before the rest of the team adopted the name and you had the growing suspicion that Fanboy had forgotten your legal name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

With a laugh, you stood up and linked your arm through Rooster’s, “No need to worry this time Robby, Tweedle Dum here was only joking.” This time Bob did let out a laugh, shaking his head and beginning to dump the ice into the cooler, “Alright, alright, let’s close this son of a bitch down so we can go home.”

A satisfied grin now sat on your face, only growing wider when you saw the deep frown etching it’s way onto Rooster’s. You unlinked your arms and slapped him on the shoulder, “Oof, better luck next time! I’ll go get the mop while you get started on sweeping - I’ll help you with the lobby since I’m feeling extra nice tonight.”

As you were walking towards the backroom, you could hear Rooster grumbling, “Oh, sure, I see how it is. I can’t bully Bean but Bean can bully me?” You were tempted to turn around and continue poking the bear, but you thought better of it - the more time you wasted now, the less time you’d have later with Bob. So, you just giggled to yourself and kept on walking.

You were watching the water filling the mop bin when suddenly you were hit with all the forgotten things you still had to get done tonight. The smile that was on your face dropped off with the realization that you probably wouldn’t have time to stop by Bob’s house as you had originally planned - your to-do list filling up just as fast as the mop bin. You gripped the mop handle a little tighter with a scowl on your face.

Coming back from filling up the cooler, Bob quietly set the ice bins on top of the machine and took in your tense disposition for a moment before softly asking, “What did that mop ever do to you?” Your eyes met his, the stress slipping from your frame and your vice grip easing up. With a straight face and a blunt tone, you quipped back, “It killed my father.”

The sound of Bob laughing filled the kitchen as he set the mop aside and wrapped you in his arms, letting his chin rest on your head, “God, I love you, Bean.” It was silent between you two for a moment before he continued, “Now do you want to tell me what’s really going on? I helped your dad fix his truck this morning so I’m pretty sure this mop is innocent,” he prodded.

His heart was thrumming against your ear, reminding you that you wouldn’t be falling asleep on his chest to the same sound later that evening. Your heart sank lower as you answered quietly, “I forgot I have a bunch of laundry and other chores I need to do tonight,” with a sigh you continued, “I think I’m going to have to raincheck coming over tonight.”

Bob was silent again, his eyes fixed on the handwashing signage behind your head.

“Move in with me.”

His head didn’t move from it’s spot on yours - the nonchalance of it all catching you off guard.

You pulled back to look him in the eyes, desperate to know if he was being serious or not, “What?”

“Move in with me. Move in with me so that we don’t have to waste anymore nights doing laundry alone when we could’ve been doing it together,” he said, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears and running his thumbs along your cheekbones.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Yeah?” he asked, his own smile growing rapidly.

“I’d love to, if you’re absolutely sure, I’d love to,” you responded, feeling more sure about the decision with every passing second.

“I’m absolutely, 100%, sure,” he continued, “In this life, I would really like doing laundry and taxes with you.” You felt butterflies swarm as you responded through a fuzzybrain, “You need to stop watching Everything Everywhere All at Once so much.“

“Not a chance,” he said, before closing the gap between you and letting his lips melt into yours.

“Bean are you going to help me with the lobby or wha- woah there! Talk about something the health inspector wouldn’t appreciate,” Rooster said as he dramatically threw his hands over his eyes and walked backwards out of the kitchen.

“I guess we better get back out there, huh?” Bob said.

“I guess we better, Mr. Boss Man,” you winked at him, “We’ll talk more about the details later - but I’m really looking forward to doing laundry and taxes with you too.” Without another word, you grabbed the mop bucket and began wheeling it out of the kitchen.

As Bob began counting down the till he couldn’t help but watch as you used the mop handle as a microphone to serenade Rooster - he didn’t even care when he lost his count. Starting from the pennies yet again, he sang under his breath, “I know who I want to take me home.”

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