#top gun maverick fan fiction
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Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd
Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!
robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew
“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.
You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago.
Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”
“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.
The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups.
As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.
And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?
Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place.
You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.
“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”
“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.
Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.
When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.
You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”
But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street.
From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves.
At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.
“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect.
The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.
“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”
His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.
Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”
Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.
The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye.
Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious.
His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks.
As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.
Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug.
The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.”
A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him.
You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”
His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.
“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?”
The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”
You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.
“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”
A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.
You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”
To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.
Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”
By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.
He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen.
“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.
Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.
Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.
His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.
Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen.
Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.
He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace.
“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.
Your mouth can’t open fast enough.
You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.
Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.
When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”
His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”
“You.”
That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”
The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.
“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.”
You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?
You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.
As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.
You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.
“Did you still want your tea?”
He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”
Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both.
When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door.
Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.
Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.
You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.
When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.
You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.
see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting
taglist: @callsign-mongoose
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Are You With Me? | Ch I
| Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey
series masterlist | next part
synopsis: Jake gets a terrifying call in the middle of the night that has him rushing to his ex-wife's side. Y/N is put in the middle of two men who she cared about. The Seresins get shocking news.
word count: 2.2k
warnings: emergency rooms, medical inaccuracies, mentions of blood, childhood cancer, fighting, divorce, mentions of cheating
“What happened?” Jake asked, out of breath as he ran down the corridor. He had just fallen asleep when he got a frantic call from his ex wife. He could hardly make out the words she was saying to him, but he managed to understand that she was taking their daughter to the ER. It was like a hot knife in Jake’s chest as he sprinted out of bed and broke nearly all traffic laws to get to the hospital.
Y/N’s was shaking like a leaf in the wind, as she took a step away from the large window where she had been watching doctors and nurses tend to her child, “I-I don’t know,” Her voice was thick with tears, her eyes and nose red. The only thing she wore was a nightgown and a jacket over it, “Ella, sh-she has had this cough and it hasn’t gone away and she started complaining about not being able to breathe and then. . .” Y/N sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate down, “There was so much blood.”
“Shh, shh,” Jake pulled her into his chest, cradling the back of her head. A loud sob racked through her body, and Jake held her tighter, “Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you some tea and a snack.”
Y/N nodded her head, and let Jake guide her through the hospital to the waiting room. Her body felt heavy as she collapsed in the chair. The only image flashing through her mind was of her daughter standing in the doorway of her room with blood all over her shirt. Y/N closed her eyes, rubbing them with the heel of her hand. Ella had been complaining about her chest hurting and this persistent cough that would not go away. Y/N just thought it was her being sick with the common cold.
“Here,” Jake said, holding a foam cup and a granola bar out to his ex-wife. Y/N gingerly took the items and Jake sat down in the chair next to her. The tension stretched over them as they both sat in silence, Y/N nibbling on the granola bar and Jake fiddling with his fingers. The last time they had sat this close to one another was when they were in couples therapy. Most of the time, if they had to sit near each other, they would put one of the kids in the middle.
“I’m sorry I called you so early,” Y/N mumbled, breaking the silence.
Jake looked at her, a small frown on his face, “I’d rather you did than wait until morning. I know you hate doctors.”
“Had to get over that this past year.”
A year. It had been a whole year since Jake signed those papers, and Y/N had walked out of his life. It had been a year of utter misery for the both of them, but their pride got in the way of being able to admit that. It had been a year of awkward conversations while dropping the kids off at each other’s houses. A year of avoiding each other at Dagger family events. A year of tears and aching hearts when the other mentioned going out on a date. A year of suffering because of one mistake.
“Well, Ella is my daughter,” Jake said, sitting up in his seat, “And I am going to be here for my daughter, no matter what time it is.”
They both agreed in the divorce to keep things as civil as they possibly could for the sake of the children. Jake didn’t fight Y/N on custody, only asking that he gets them on the weekends. Y/N still allowed Jake to come over as often as he wanted to, and he was at the house most nights. Jake hated going home to that small on-base house that was nothing compared to the beautiful craftsman they had bought together after Eli was born. Y/N let Jake stay for dinner, and help with bath time, before getting the kids to bed. It was always awkward when he’d leave for the night; both of them wanting to ask the other if they would stay.
“I know,” Y/N swallowed, “I just. . . I don’t know.”
The silence stretched back over them. The lobby of the emergency room was surprisingly busy for an early Tuesday morning. Drunkards were waiting to get fluids to sober up. A couple who looked like they were about to have a baby sat in the corner, the man coaxing his wife through breathing exercises. A sad looking elderly man with a deep frown etched on his face. A mother holding her child to her chest, soothing his hiccups. Y/N longed to be able to be back with Ella, but the doctors had ushered her out of the room when Ella quit breathing.
Y/N was lost in her thoughts when a voice called out to her, “Y/N.”
“Miles,” She stood up from her chair, “W-what’s going on? Is Ella alright?”
“You’re my daughter’s doctor?” Jake said, eyeing Miles up and down.
Y/N shot a glare in Jake’s direction. Now was not the time to get in a pissing match.
“I am,” Miles said, brushing off Jake’s comment, “I was working a round in the ER when she came in. I’m also lead pediatric surgeon.”
Rolling his eyes, Jake muttered, “Of course you are.”
“Anyway,” Miles continued, “We ran some tests on Ella, a simple blood test and then an X-Ray,” He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Y/N’s hand reached out for Jake’s on instinct, squeezing it, “Her blood test came back showing signs of abnormal cell growth, and there’s a small mass on the right lower lobe of her lung.”
It was as if Miles had slugged Y/N in the chest. She sat down, afraid her knees were going to give out if she were still standing. The words Miles and Jake were sharing might as well have been a world away, as none of it was making sense to her.
“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, her voice felt foreign to her as she looked up at the men, “How did I miss this?”
“We don’t really know,” Miles said softly, “Sometimes, the body just creates abnormal cells. Lung cancer in kids looks totally different than lung cancer in adults. It’s not your fault.”
Y/N nodded her head and looked down at her hands, “So what do we do?”
“We’re gonna discharge her for today, and send you home with some medicine to help suppress the cough. Then we’re gonna get you set up with an oncology appointment, run some more tests and we’ll go from there.”
“Can we see her?” Jake asked.
“Of course,” Miles nodded his head, and told them Ella’s room number.
Jake sat down next to Y/N, letting out a deep sigh. This was the last thing he thought was going to happen when Y/N called him at 2:30 in the morning. The only person Jake knew to have lung cancer was his grandfather, and it was a bitter end to his life. Hospitals, and oxygen masks, and not being able to do anything but lay in a bed and wait for death to come. It wasn’t what he imagined for his little girl. Not in this lifetime.
“You never told me what happened between you and Miles?” Jake asked, looking over at Y/N.
She let out a sigh, stretching her arms out and flexing her fingers, “Just didn’t work out.”
Truth was, Y/N was so irrevocably in love with Jake, that being with Miles was only going to cause more harm than good. Miles had been the perfect guy; he was respectful, kind, he cared about Y/N’s kids and treated them with respect as well. He also loved her, flaws and all. And that was the issue. Miles loved Y/N more than Y/N could ever love him. It broke her heart to have to break up with him, but she couldn’t let him continue to think that something was going to happen.
Jake hummed, “I thought you two were going to get-”
“Can we not talk about my love life right now?” Y/N snapped, looking at her ex, “Now is not the time.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “She’s going to be okay, ya know?” Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, “She’s strong and healthy, just like you.”
Y/N nodded her head, “I know. It’s just not what I want for her. I hate this!”
Jake wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought her into him. He hated seeing her cry and in the past year, he had seen her shed a lot of tears. Over the years, Y/N got better at stuffing her emotions down. It was hard raising kids with a husband who flew jets at supersonic speed into dangerous territories. She had to become both mentally and physically strong to withstand the months of Jake being gone and her left to raise the kids. Now, those emotions came crumbling down.
“Let’s go back and see her, okay?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. She wordlessly nodded her head and Jake stood up, helping her to her feet.
They rode the elevator in silence up to the pediatric floor where Ella was. When the doors opened they were met with bright colored green and blue walls with various animals painted on them. Children were just starting to wake up on the floor, as nurses and aids went into their rooms with colorful cups of medicine. Some parents had spent the night, sleeping on a cot next to their child’s bed, other parents were just arriving with cups of coffee and tired looks on their faces. Y/N was surprised at how warm the unit felt. That was the one thing she hated about hospitals. They always felt so cold and lonely. But the pediatric ward was filled with bright smiles, and laughter.
Jake knocked on the door to Ella’s room, which had a painted unicorn on it, “Knock, knock,” He said, slowly opening the door.
“Daddy!” Ella exclaimed. Jake rushed over to the bed, and hugged his little girl tightly. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her illness, but she felt smaller in his arms than she had ever felt, “I missed you.”
“Missed you too Ella Bella,” Jake said softly, and placed a kiss on her temple, “How are you feeling?” He helped her lay back in bed, and covered her with a blanket. Y/N silently walked to the otherside of Ella’s bed as Jake sat down on the small mattress.
“I’m tired,” Ella yawned, “Nurse Becky gave me strawberry jell-o and Auntie Val saw me when I had my pictures done!”
“She did?” Y/N asked, trying her best to sound happy. She made a mental note to contact her best friend and tell her how thankful she was for her visit to Ella. If there was one thing about Val Machado, it was that she was going to care of her friends’ kids. Val even said once the Seresin kids were basically her kids and vice versa.
“Yes! She gave me a unicorn sticker! Like the one on the door!” Ella held up the sticker that was on her hospital gown.
“That’s beautiful baby,” Jake said, his green eyes full of love as he brushed his hand over her cheek.
“Daddy,” Ella said softly, “Can I go home now?”
“Yes Elles,” Jake nodded his head, “We’re gonna go home. You, me, and Mommy.”
A weird feeling went through Y/N’s chest when Jake said they were all going home. She tried her best to ignore it, knowing that Jake was only saying words to comfort their daughter. When a nurse came in, Y/N and Jake excused themselves to go sign some paperwork and set up the next doctor’s appointment. They sat on opposite sides of a round table, Jake filling out insurance forms while Y/N sighed Ella’s discharge forms.
“You shouldn’t have told her that you were coming home,” Y/N muttered.
Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “Why? I am coming home with you guys.”
“Jake,” Y/N sighed, setting the pen down.
“No,” Jake answered, “I am not just gonna go back to base and pretend like everything is fine and dandy. Cause it’s not fine and dandy, Y/N. Our child is sick.”
“I know,” Y/N’s voice became thick with tears, “I know this, Jake.”
“Then don’t push me away,” Jake sounded defeated, “Not now. Not when we need each other the most.”
Y/N let out a shaky sigh, “I just don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“You don’t have to,” Jake said, getting up from his chair and going over to kneel in front of his wife. He grabebd her hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them, “You don’t have to forgive me now or ever. But you need someone to rely on and be there just as much as I need someone to rely on and be there. This isn’t going to be easy. . . but we are the only ones who will understand what we are going through. We need each other right now.”
Y/N bit her lip and nodded her head, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of hope and longing.
“Okay,” Y/N said again, sniffling, “Let’s go take our baby home.”
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match // new perspectives universe // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader
heyooo - i'm back from the dead - it's been a while since we've seen these two and for this one we're going back in time !! this is kind of a rewrite of something that’s already happened in the main chapters 🤭 i haven't written jake and jupiter in what feels like forever so this feels rusty to me lol but hopefully you enjoy!
match // new perspectives universe // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader
add yourself to my taglist
part of my new perspectives series !! it will make a lot more sense if you're caught up on these two:
prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine
word count: 4.8k
warnings: language, mention of alcohol, college/med school/residency inaccuracies (I didn't go to college and it shows lol any and all knowledge on any of this comes from tiktok or greys anatomy)
Sitting at your vanity (if you could even call a plastic set of drawers with a handheld mirror duct taped to the back a vanity) you briefly thought to yourself that you should be excited… and you were, for the most part. Today was one of those days that marked the start of a new chapter. You’d been lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it) to have had a few of these already… first opening your acceptance letter into college, then med school, and now you were getting ready to find out where you had been matched for residency.
The excitement and nerves you were feeling were subdued because really the only thing you could focus on was the fact that the only person you wanted here wasn’t… and you didn’t know where he was. He could have been on a ship halfway across the world or at a base a handful of hours away but in the end it didn’t really matter much… he wasn’t here, and that was just part of the deal. You knew what this was long before it got to this point, and that point was only accentuated by the floppy haired boy walking into your dorm just as you stood from your spot in front of the window to change.
“Well, don’t you just look darling,” he teased and on another day you might have laughed… struck a pose and had a witty comeback, something about ratty college tees and soffe shorts being on all the runways these days, but it wasn’t another day. It was today and your future was hinging on something written in an envelope waiting for you across campus and this boy wasn’t the one you wanted teasing you today.
You undressed and stood with your back to him, a silent request for him to help zip your dress and he obliged just as quietly. There was an expiration date on you and Matt, this much you knew… but the way his fingers trailed down your arm and the lingering question he’d been asking all month told you he wasn’t on the same page. He had a vision for his life, one that very much included you and perhaps you felt a little guilty for continuing to keep him in your orbit but the more logical part of you reminded you that the vision you had for your life had been set in stone long before he showed up. He saw residency right here in California, with you by his side. He saw you switching your area of focus to general medicine, something less demanding to create room for starting a family, something you’d do within the next few years. You hadn’t had the heart yet to tell him that sounded like your own personal hell.
Your vision was Boston, in a cutthroat surgical residency program before moving on to whatever hospital offered the best fellowship for your chosen specialty… that was the one area of your life you’d yet to nail down. Most of your peers pursuing the surgical route knew what they wanted to focus on, some vying for cardio or neuro, others trauma or general but not you. That was the one thing you were leaving up to fate, deciding to instead let yourself make that decision a few years into residency… and if that fellowship happened to come along where the boy you missed more than anything was stationed? Well, you wouldn’t be one to complain. The vision didn’t include Matt, it never did.
And so, as you turned to face him with a tight smile you wanted more than anything to tell him this was over, that it would be best to head into residency as individuals but then you saw that look on his face and you couldn’t do it right now… not right before finding out whether or not you were getting everything you’d spent the last eight years working towards (seven for you, but you wouldn’t point that out to him anymore than you already had). You’d wait until after, even if that meant walking into the ceremony with someone you had already decided you wouldn’t be seeing after today.
“Hey, did you guys get settled okay?” you asked your parents as you set your bag down on the table and exchanged quick hugs. You’d already seen them this morning when they’d arrived and they’d decided to give you a little space to get ready.
“Your mother has taken photos of about a dozen things at the hotel, taking notes for our upcoming remodel which… I was just informed of this morning,” your dad said and you laughed. Matt said his hellos before going off to find his own parents and you rolled your eyes at the look your dad fixed you with. “He’s still around?”
“Oh hush,” you replied. Your purse started ringing and you fished around lip gloss and old flashcards to find your phone, immediately feeling more settled at the voice on the other end.
“Hey you,” Jake said and you actually let out a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh me? You know, cool as a cucumber. Not freaking out at all,” you answered with a small laugh and he just chuckled.
“Of course not, not like there’s anything big going on today.”
“Definitely not, just a normal day around here,” you said.
“I just wanted to call and tell you to breathe, because you forget to do that sometimes-”
“I do not-”
“Yes you do, and to remind you that no matter where you end up you’re going to be just fine.”
“Thank you,” you said softly. “I know you can’t say where you are but I hope you’re flying safe today,” you added.
“Always do, sweetheart. I’ll call you tonight, yeah?”
“You better.” you said with a smile as you hung up and put your phone on silent just as the announcer gave the two minute warning. You could practically feel the rising tension in the room, a mix of nervous excitement and pure dread. So many fates contained within tiny envelopes and as you picked yours up you found the whole notion of this rather silly. You felt bad for anyone who got news they didn’t want today, having to find out in a room full of people celebrating and you prayed to a god you weren’t sure you even believed in you wouldn’t be one of them.
“I think I’m going to, uh…” you started, looking at your parents and then back at the envelope in your hand. “I’m going to just take a minute and open it myself, if that’s okay?” you asked hesitantly and they nodded.
“Whatever you want, honey,” your mom replied and you turned around as the announcer told everyone to open them. You took a deep breath, because you did forget to breathe in times of stress, and with shaking hands practically ripped the envelope apart to pull out a folded piece of paper… a piece of paper that you hoped contained two specific words.
Massachusetts General.
Your shaking hands persisted as you read and reread what was right in front of you. Massachusetts General. You blinked and read again, did it really say that? Massachusetts General.
“Oh my god-” you started as you turned around to show your parents with the paper facing outwards but they were gone. Really they’d only stepped a few feet to the side but they, and everyone else in the room, may as well have disappeared because all you could focus on was him, standing right there in front of you in his dress whites looking so proud as he read the words in your hands that quickly fell to the floor in shock. “Jake?” you asked so quietly, your mind still not catching up but it didn’t matter, in an instant you were launching yourself at him and he caught you with ease as you wrapped around him.
“Hey you,” he repeated his words from just a few minutes ago on the phone and you let out a sound that was mixed with a laugh and a sob as you clung to him. “You did it, I knew you would.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked as you pulled away slightly to look down at him and he just beamed up at you.
“You didn’t really think I’d miss this, did you?” he replied and you just smiled, but it was quickly wiped away as you heard someone clear their throat behind you and you didn’t need to look to know who it was as you slid down Jake’s body to the floor and turned to see Matt, who was looking at the pair of you skeptically.
“Jake’s here,” he said, trying to muster some kind of enthusiasm but it fell flat, “yay.” You stifled a chuckle as you looked at him expectantly, “I matched here, what about you?” You knew what was coming as you took the paper your dad held out for you and Matt nodded softly when he read it. “I thought we talked about staying here for residency?” You didn’t miss the way Jake scoffed behind you, clearly disgusted that that was the first thing out of his mouth.
“You talked about it, Matt… I was always clear about my goals.” you said firmly. “But this is what we’ve both been working for. Congratulations, really,” you said, wrapping him in a tight but quick hug. “Go, celebrate with your family. I’ll see you at the party later.” you finished, nudging him off and when you turned around Jake was giving you the most unimpressed look.
“Don’t even, I will not be seeing him at the party later, if you must know.”
“Is that so?” he asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes as he chuckled.
“Congratulations, sweetheart,” your mom said, pulling you in for a hug.
“We’re so proud of you,” your dad added, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and you went to respond, to thank them for everything they’ve done for you but they didn’t give you the chance. “Go celebrate and spend time together, and have fun at the party tonight.”
“What? No, you guys flew all this way… I thought we could go out for dinner-”
“Hush, you two have some catching up to do,” your mom replied. “Besides, I think whatever celebrations you get up to tonight are best kept from us,” she added with a knowing smile and you tried to fight your own.
“We’ll do breakfast, just the four of us like old times… but we won’t wake you too early,” your dad said and you watched as Jake gave them hugs before they slipped away.
When they left he turned to look at you, all pride and adoration, and you flushed under his gaze as you gave him a look that said what? “You fucking did it, Jupiter.”
“I fucking did it,” you replied, your laughter bright and uncontrollable as he lifted you from the ground and spun you around.
“How’d he take it?” Jake asked as you entered your dorm, and you chuckled as you took him in, sprawled out across your bed, one leg hanging off the side because he simply didn’t fit.
“About as well as could be expected,” you said and he laughed as he sat up.
“So… not well at all?” He laughed again when you nodded. “Tell me about this party we’re going to.”
“It’s pretty standard, I expect things will go as they always do with a campus party… just a little more celebratory with a slight drinking to numb the pain vibe from some.”
He nodded, “all your friends got what they were hoping for?”
“For the most part… a few didn’t get exactly what they wanted but that’s kind of how it goes… matching is about a little bit of hard work and a shit ton of luck.”
“So, I’m guessing dress whites aren’t the vibe for tonight?” he asked, watching as you discarded your jewelry onto your desk and you chuckled as you turned and walked towards him, stopping in between his legs.
“Not at all,” you said with a shake of your head and you laughed again as he pouted and rested his hands on the backs of your thighs. “But they were a nice touch, you look very official and handsome,” you added on, hoping to turn his frown upside down.
And you did, he looked up at you with that same look he’d given you in the event hall. “I know you know this, but I really am so fucking proud of you, J,” he said and you softly smiled, feeling crimson creep onto your cheeks and you quickly diverted, trying to break some of the intimacy of the moment by pulling the hat from his head and plopping it on your own.
“Well, you should be, cowboy,” you said, stepping back and grabbing two beers from the mini fridge that doubled as a nightstand, handing one to him and he looked at you expectantly as you both cracked them open. “Because your best friend got into the fucking brig,” you said as you clinked the cans together and he let out a few cheers before taking a generous gulp.
He stayed by your side as you got ready together, only engaging in a few quarrels due to the lack of space that only got smaller when your roommate Katie showed up, and you couldn’t help your amusement as the two of them got on each other's last nerves. Their relationship was very akin to that of siblings, they’d scream at each other through the phone on facetimes when the other was pulling too much of your attention and on the rare visits Jake managed she’d spend the whole trip pouting about how no one else existed when he was here.
“Are we not going to this party together, Katie?” you said, interrupting her latest spiel about Jake’s evilness, as she put it, and she held her hands up in surrender as you laughed. She put on a good show but you knew she liked having Jake around, it meant she got to see more of her favorite version of you… party Jupiter. And party Jupiter was in full effect as you strolled down the street lined with fraternity houses. The parties you attended these days were typically on the other side of campus and not quite as rowdy, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d been down here but it had been negotiated that the frats held parties for the med students this year, to give you all one more truly college party before everyone went their separate ways into a new journey of adulthood.
“You’ve been here before, right?” you asked Jake as you watched him mix you a drink and he nodded.
“Mmhm, your third year of undergrad,” he answered and you snorted.
“Oh god, yeah,” you briefly reminisced on that party, one with no cause, and the shocked look on Jake’s face most of the night. As it turned out, you had actually been understating just how much Stanford kids like to party that day on the phone all those years ago. You mingled with Jake in tow, socializing with friends you hadn’t seen since the beginning of the year to due rotations and interviews across the country, and really emphasizing the fact that you wouldn’t see each other for a number of years after tonight in your drunken states much to Jake’s amusement.
You weren’t much of an emotional drunk but that didn’t seem to be the case tonight… Probably something about the finality of it all, going from college to med school didn’t seem like a huge transition for you because you stayed in the same place, but this was different. After graduation next week you’d be packing up and moving across the country, to somewhere that couldn’t be more different than where you were, and you would officially be a doctor.
Jake watched as you let loose, cackling with friends about professors or that one time you stole a dozen mice because you couldn’t bear the thought of them being used for research (and you maintained that you’d been in the right each time it was brought up). The last time he’d come to visit you’d been so entrenched in your coursework he actually became worried, watching you study for hours on end from your bed as he realized this is what your life was. You’d always done a good job at completing everything before he arrived so you could focus on the fun but that visit just wasn’t the case… There were exams to prep for and applications to be sent out and interviews to be scheduled, and all he could do was half-heartedly read a book he’d plucked from your shelf about internal medicine and force you to come up for air every now and again.
But this time was completely different, there was nothing to worry about because you were done. You’d gotten to the end of your journey here at Stanford and were in that blissful reprieve period where there truly was nothing to fret over, and it simultaneously warmed Jake’s heart and broke it to see. On one hand, you were finally getting a true break after years of achingly hard work… but on the other that break would only last a few days before you went into a tizzy packing to move cross country and start your residency. He knew you were happy, and that you would be happy in Boston but he also knew things were only about to get harder, and that a few days of true relief weren’t enough.
Granted, this wasn’t how you felt, despite the fact that as you downed your drink and chatted with Katie about her upcoming move to Nashville you had no idea this was going through his head… you felt nothing but joy knowing that you got to spend the next few days with Jake before diving into your future. Residency is what you feel you’d waited your whole life for. You did the hard stuff, you laid the foundation and stuffed your nose in a book for years and now you were finally going to be able to do.
“I think I might actually miss these parties,” you said as you sat down by the edge of the pool with a sigh, unclasping your heels and actually moaning in relief as you dipped your feet into the cool water and Jake chuckled beside you.
“I find that shocking considering that after that one your third year you said you never wanted to set foot on this block again.”
“I’ve grown, things have changed,” you protested which coaxed another laugh from him. “God, I can’t believe I’m leaving this place soon. It almost feels like just yesterday I showed up here with nothing but a suitcase and a dream. And you! Mr. Top Gun graduate,” you added, nudging him playfully.
“Don’t let Coyote hear you, he’ll bust my chops even more than he already has.”
“I miss Coyote,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Are you going home for Christmas this year?” you asked and this took him slightly by surprise, considering it was spring and he didn’t expect you to be looking forward to anything other than residency.
“I don’t think so… the way it lines up I’d have to fly in on Christmas Eve and leave the day after… I think the short trips make my mom sadder than me not going home at all.”
“They do,” you said. “For my parents too. I don’t know why but they do. What do you think about me coming to you this year? If you’re on base.”
“I think that sounds perfect,” he replied, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for graduation,” he said and you lifted your head to shake it, waving your hand dismissively.
“Truthfully I don’t care about graduation, it’s more for my parents and yours. This was the important one,” you replied, giving him a warm smile. “I still can’t believe you pulled off surprising me. How long have you known you’d be able to make it?”
“Since you first told me the day,” he answered and your eyes widened as you hit his chest.
“You asshole! You made me think you couldn’t come and this was your plan all along? I was really sad, you know.”
He let out a loud laugh, “yeah, I know. But it was worth it! The look on your face was priceless.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered.
“Had to get you back for my tap out ceremony somehow,” he pointed out and you sighed, because he did have a point.
“That’s fair. Though, I could argue that it was a surprise for me as well, mine was not premeditated.”
“To-mato to-mato,” he replied. “So, when do you make the big move?”
“Well, tomorrow you’ll be helping me scout apartments, tough part is I’ll have to pick a place sight unseen so we’re going to have to be very thorough in our search and then hopefully I’ll be out there within three weeks… My program starts in four.”
“Unless a last minute deployment pops up, I think I can meet you out there… help you get settled and all that.”
“Really?” you asked, eyes wide and full of hope as you beamed up at him and he chuckled, knowing you were definitely drunk right now. “Seeing you twice in one month? I don’t think we’ve gotten that lucky since we were teenagers.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” he said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and you were startled by your own laugh, not expecting the turn in conversation.
“That’s right, forgot I was talking to Hangman, eternal stud.” you joked. Briefly you thought joking about it should sting, and deep down maybe it did a little, but this was the first time it’s come up and the sting wasn’t the first thing you noticed.
“You haven’t done so bad for yourself either,” he said and you just gave him a deadpan glare.
“Really? You think Matt was making me feel lucky every time?” you asked and he went through the same range of emotions. He thought it should hurt, and it did somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t the first thing he noticed.
“He wasn’t? Then what was the point?” he exclaimed and you hid your face in embarrassment.
“Oh, I don’t know! Truthfully it spiraled and I didn’t have time for anything else so…” you trailed off before letting out a groan. “Oh god, I’m a terrible person.”
“Now, how did we end up there?” he asked, brows furrowing in confusion at your statement.
“I knew all along I’d dump him right about now, how awful to not do it so much sooner.”
He shrugged, “maybe… but knowing you he did get lucky every time so don’t feel too bad. Broken heart or not he reached the mountaintop, good for him.”
“That’s a better, if not slightly twisted, way of looking at things.” you mused, resting your head on his shoulder again.
“Tired?” he asked and you nodded. “Don’t quite have the stamina of an undergrad anymore?”
“Shut up,” you said. “It’s been an emotional day.”
“Wanna go home?” he asked and you nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled up and you awkwardly shook your leg over the pool to rid yourself of excess water, to which he just shook his head in amusement.
You spent the walk back towards your dorm lost in conversation, giggling about nothing in particular and squealing when he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, “Jake! I’m too drunk, don’t make me hurl,” you laughed but he didn’t seem to care, carrying you like it was nothing until suddenly you were on the move again, sliding down to the ground with Jake’s firm hands on your waist to guide you. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you noticed you weren’t at your dorm but instead in front of a shiny car.
“I love Katie,” he started, but was cut off by the questioning look you gave him, “really, I do, but you didn’t really think I was crashing in your dorm, did you?” he asked and he did have a point… the last time he visited she was on rotation so he crammed himself onto her tiny bed and complained all the next day… there simply wasn’t anywhere for him to be this time around. “I have a hotel room a few blocks away, do you want to come stay with me? Or I can walk you back to your room,” he added the last part a little hurriedly and you chuckled, you thought you just caught a glimpse of a younger Jake… nervous and not wanting to overstep.
“Are you kidding me?” you asked, gesturing towards the door and he was quick to open it for you, “a night away from that thing they call a bed sounds like heaven.”
“And here I thought you just wanted to spend more time with me,” he said after walking around and getting in the driver’s side.
“Well, that’s certainly part of it… just not the main part,” you teased and he shook his head as he navigated towards his hotel and you looked over at him in amusement when you entered the parking lot. “Very fancy, Mr. Seresin,” you said as he opened the door for you and he extended his hand which you gladly took.
“Shut up and come on,” he replied and you did as you were told. Following him through the hotel and to the elevator, where they opened to reveal a cozy and beautifully decorated rooftop bar and you just looked over at him, eyes wide and questioning. “Tonight was a goodbye to your college life, and I thought what better way to end it than here, welcoming in this next chapter?”
“Jake…” you started, the lingering alcohol in your system still present enough to have you feeling a little more emotional than usual. You sat at a cozy loveseat positioned in front of a firepit and thanked the waiter when he brought over your cocktails, gin and tonic for you and something whiskey based for Jake.
“To you, Jupiter. You’ve worked so hard the past seven years, and you never once wavered when things got hard. You are nothing short of incredible, and being here with you right now, marking this occasion… it means a lot to me, and I’ll never stop being proud of you.” he said, and you felt your eyes well with tears that mirrored his own.
“Stop, you can’t cause then I’ll really lose it,” you warned, laughing softly as you wiped your cheeks. “Thank you… not just for saying that but for being you, and for being here. I was a wreck all morning and then I turned around and saw you and everything felt… settled. You being here means more than you know.” you said and you clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. “I’m really proud of us.” you said added a few moments of silence. “Do you remember the day we decided to break up?”
“Vividly,” he chuckled and you couldn’t help but laugh too.
“God, we were so young, with such big dreams… and going into it all so devastated… I wish we could go back and tell them it wouldn’t be for nothing, that we made it.”
“We did make it didn’t we?” he asked and you nodded, a smile creeping onto your face. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you didn’t know if it was the weighty realization that seven years ago you broke each other’s hearts to pursue the dreams you’d just achieved or the alcohol or just the fact that you simply wanted to but you leaned forward and let your lips brush against his. Soft and questioning but he pressed forward and captured you in a searing kiss. Years of pent up emotion and love spilling out, and you smiled when he chased your lips as you pulled away.
You didn’t need to say anything, didn’t need to acknowledge any of it. You both knew it didn’t change anything, you both might have made it but only to the next stepping stone… it still wasn’t the time. You kissed him once more before scooting closer and resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist as you just enjoyed the moment for what it was. A celebration of what was to come.
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#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fan fiction#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin fan fiction#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman fan fiction#hangman fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fan fiction
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Radar // Robert Floyd
Two Part Mini Series
Radar // After Phoenix and Bob are forced to eject after a freak bird strike—the Top Gun class find out a little bit more about their quiet back seat weapons systems officer. (7.3k)
Mission Impossible // After Bob is picked to fly the mission with the Dagger team, memories of moments you both have shared together come flooding back—leading to a shock discovery. (9.6k
Another Statistic Blurb // The catalyst reason as to why Robert Floyd doesn’t drink alcohol.
#I redid the B.O.B series because I didn’t like the tragectory it was heading#disregard all Jake blurbs#this is the canon version#bob floyd fic#bob x reader#bob floyd fluff#bob top gun#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x y/n#bob floyd imagine#robert floyd imagine#robert bob floyd#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun bob#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun maverick x reader#top gun x reader#top gun imagine
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Day 19: Bottom Of The Bottle
Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x fem!reader
Synopsis: You being to question yours and Maverick relationship when he develops a drinking problem.
Warnings: alcoholism, break-ups, mentions of hospitals, family issues, alcohol abuse, arguments & relationship issues.
Word count: 1.2k
Maverick was the love of your life. You believed that with every fibre of your being. The two of you were a match made in heaven. Everyone around you was convinced that there was never a more perfect pair than you and the pilot. He was your soulmate. Even through all the trials and tribulations that you had been through, the two of you remained as close as ever. However, you knew there were parts of his past that he wasn’t sharing with you.
Occasionally, Maverick would become distant. And while logically you knew that he had a good reason, your mind couldn’t help but play tricks on you. You rarely discussed issues from Maverick’s past. Any time you would try to bring it up, he would change the subject almost immediately. It wasn’t until two and a half years into your relationship that you noticed his frightening coping mechanisms.
At first, you thought that it was just an occasional drink after work. Soon enough, it turned into something so much worse than you ever could have imagined. All that you knew about the situation was that something was going on with Maverick’s mother. You knew very little about the woman, only hearing bits and pieces from Goose and Carole every once in a while. While you respected the fact that your boyfriend liked to keep some things a secret, part of you wished that he would open up to you more.
When his drinking had reached the point that it was severely concerning, you went to the first person you thought of; Goose. The RIO had told you everything that he knew which, albeit, wasn’t very much. All he knew was that his mother was in the hospital again. For what exactly, he couldn’t tell you.
You accepted that as reason enough for Maverick’s recent changes. That was until one drink after work became three. Then three became more than you could count. He would show up on your porch in the middle of the night, blabbering about something you couldn’t understand. In the morning, the pilot would act as if nothing ever happened; waking before sunrise and walking back to the bar to pick up his bike. After about a week of this new coping mechanism, you decided that enough was enough.
After talking to Goose, you decided that it was time to confront Maverick. At first, the pilot had tried to pretend that there was nothing wrong with him. Things had gotten ugly fast when you accused him of not being able to see the truth. When you mentioned what Goose had told you, Maverick was pissed. He was seeing red at the thought of his best friend betraying him like that. That night had ended with him storming out of your shared home.
Things only got worse from there. It took almost two weeks for Maverick to return to staying at your shared home. Even when he returned home, however, he was still distancing himself from you. You could tell that he still hadn’t forgiven you for things that had been said during that argument. Even though he was home now, it still felt like he was living miles away from you. There were no more shared dinners, no more rides to work together, and no more sweet words. Only harsh glares and cold silence.
The argument worked, at least for a while. As far as you knew, Maverick was no longer drinking to the point where he couldn’t remember anything the following day. According to Goose, he hadn’t even been to the bar in the past two weeks. Everything slowly seemed to be returning to normal. All except for the fact that your boyfriend was ignoring your existence.
Maverick’s break from drinking only lasted a few weeks. Before you knew it, he was back in the bar. This time, however, an argument wasn’t going to cut it. You hated the fact that you had no idea what was going on in your boyfriend’s life anymore. When it first began, you could tolerate it, hoping that it would blow over soon enough. But when it never blew over, you began to question if it was still worth it.
Of course, you loved Maverick with all your heart. But was this relationship really worth it? When you were younger, you had always pictured being with the love of your life. The sweet things he would do and the lovely connection that the two of you would have. That’s what you and Maverick were in the beginning. Now, the two of you weren’t even a semblance of the people you once were.
So, you decided that enough was enough. You knew what you wanted for your life and even if you didn’t want to admit it, deep down you knew that Maverick wasn’t the person for you anymore. If you were being honest with yourself, you had known that ever since his drinking problem began. You just didn’t want to leave him when you knew that he needed a support system. Now, you just couldn’t be that support system anymore.
These days, if Maverick wasn’t at the bar, he was crashing at Goose’s house. So, that was where you went. You found the pair sitting in the backyard, both nursing a beer. While Goose didn’t encourage Maverick’s drinking problem, he sure didn’t look like he was actively trying to help the situation either. Standing in the door frame, you called your boyfriend’s name firmly.
With a slight roll of his eyes, Maverick followed you into Goose’s house. The RIO remained in the backyard, ready to tune out the sound of your screams. At this point, Nick wouldn’t even blame you for leaving Maverick. He would still be there for the pilot. You needed to do what was best for you.
“Alright,” You started, voice firm as you tried to stop it from wavering. “You need to talk to me.” Sure, you were understanding about the fact that Maverick needed his space. But it was well past time for that. Maverick needed to tell you what was going on. It was now or never.
The only response you received from the pilot was a steady shake of his head. “No.” His tone left nearly no room for argument. But at this point, you didn’t care if he wanted an argument or not.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Regardless of how much you loved him, you couldn’t stay if it was going to be like this. “You’re either going to tell me what the fuck is going on,” You paused, hoping the message would sink in for him. “Or I’m going to walk out that door.”
Maverick remained silent. No matter how much you prepared yourself for actually having to walk away from him, you weren’t at all ready for him to let you go. When he didn’t say anything and didn’t even try to stop you when you turned around, you knew you had to leave. So that was what you did. Your stomach had dropped at the realization that you and Maverick were over. Weeks ago. You had been convinced that he was the love of your life. Now, you didn’t even recognize him.
The slam of the heavy door behind you plunged the dark house into silence.
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Moving Forward: Chapter Four (18+ MDNI)
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
Synopsis: Y/N returns home after her fight with Rooster and Hangman. What should have been a cathartic conversation with her father turns into a heartbreaking dose of reality as new information comes to light not only about her history with Jake and Bradley but also about her father's health. The world was shaky before, and now it's crumbling around her.
Warning: language + references to death and character drama + cancer + lots of emotions (grief)
A/N: I hope you guys "enjoy" this one. It has got some heaviness to it, but I think it will set up where I'd like to go with this story very nicely. Also, and as always, I apologize for any and all mistakes.
The frustration dulled to a simmer during the drive home, but the remnants of the tears you shed were still sticky on your cheeks as you drove. The setting sun colored the low-hanging clouds in vibrant hues of purple and pink by the time you pulled into the drive. Mellow light poured out onto the front porch painting the concrete in a peachy hue. Parking your bike in its spot, you wasted no time pushing open the door and making your way inside. Energetic voices floated down the hall, getting louder and more vibrant the closer you got to the kitchen. Your middle brother's resonant voice carried through the house as he told some silly story about his most recent high school adventure. The thud of your bag and boots hitting the floor was lost in a burst of youthful laughter. The high-pitched squeal of your younger siblings tugged at your heart and allowed for a small smile to grace your lips.
Standing in the shadowy hall, you went unnoticed at first. As you came around the corner to the perfect image of your family at the dinner table the weight of everything actually started to lift. Their plates were mostly clean, and now conversation flowed freely. The only voice missing from the fray was your father’s, and by god you missed it. Sitting side-by-side, your parents clung to one another gently. Ice’s strong arm rested on the back of her chair, while your mother reached for his free hand under the table. Catching your approach, he turned his head to look at you. Silent questions and concerns were evident in the furrow of his brows.
The sudden shouting of your name tore you from your moment of nostalgic reflection. Stepping further into the room, you plastered a grin on your face as the youngest of your sisters came screaming across the floor toward you. Her thin arms were outstretched for you to grab her as she continued to repeat your name over and over again. Stooping down, you braced yourself for impact. There’d been a time, not all that long ago when picking her up this way had been impossible. Now it was something you’d never let go of again.
The second her tiny frame was in your arms you stood spinning her around as she held herself to you like a vice. Letting go of an exaggerated groan, you halted your twirls, shifting her weight so that she was on your good hip.
“Y/N, where you go today?” her voice met you as she held your cheeks in her hands.
Looking at her you said, “Where’d I go today?” she shook her head yes before you continued, “I was at work, sweet girl. You know that.” smiling at her you hoped that this sudden change of routine hadn’t caused her too much stress. She’d already been through so much in her short little life.
“Flyin’ planes?” the last word came out more like 'pawaynes' than planes, but it was so endearing you couldn't help, but smile.
“That’s right, and kickin’ Uncle Mav’s butt in the air.”
“Don’t hurt Uncle Mav, Y/N. That’s not nice.” A genuine concern laced her words as she admonished you.
A huff of stilted laughter caught your attention. It wasn’t the same as hearing your father’s laughter before the cancer had taken most of his voice, but it still filled your heart with joy. Glancing over at him, you met his wide smile with your own before turning back to the little girl in your arms to reassure her that Mav was in fact okay.
“Don’t worry, kiddo. I didn’t hurt Uncle Mav, I’d never do that.”
Walking over to the table you sat down in the empty spot that had been your seat since you were a kid. Your sister squirmed on your lap before tearing herself away and returning to her “big girl chair” on the other side of the table. Your chest clenched as you realized just how grown she’d gotten in the last few months. The conversation picked back up as the rest of the family launched into their previous stories. Each one overlapped the other vying for attention.
Sitting just to the right your father, you could feel his eyes on you the entire time, analyzing everything for any sign of how the day actually went. You couldn’t be sure, but if you were a betting woman at least a few text messages had already been sent his way from Mav. Whether or not they said anything about the way the day actually ended or not was the million-dollar question. Pete might not have been in the room for your outburst, but news of it was sure to travel fast. Shit like that like always did.
Noticing that you'd made no motion to grab yourself a plate of food, your mom stood silently and fixed your plate. The off-white porcelain was scratched from years of use, but she refused to get rid of the set. It had been a lovely wedding present from Carole Bradshaw. Setting the heaping pile of food down in front of you, she placed a kiss on the top of your head. Her delicate fingers squeezed your shoulders for just a moment before she returned to her seat.
Silently, you ate some of what she’d offered, but most of it went untouched. The minutes stretched on, but before long it was time for the littles to get ready for bed. Standing from their seats, both of your parents headed off to get the nighttime routine rolling. The school day started bright and early, and with so many in need of a shower or bath before heading to sleep, this part of the day often seemed to stretch on forever in the Kazansky household.
Alone in the kitchen, you listened to the hustle and bustle that was taking place upstairs. As had been the norm for many years, you cleaned up the post-dinner mess. Clearing the table, filling the dishwasher, and getting it started before moving on to taking out the trash. Tying off the black hefty bag, it took a swift yank to free it from the can. You didn’t bother putting back on your shoes as you plodded down the driveway in your socks toward the garbage cans that sat at the end.
The air was lovely, a cool breeze swept through fending off the vicious heat of the day. Taking a deep breath you soaked it all in. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind, the earthy scent of freshly mowed grass, the woodsy burn of a bonfire crackling in someone else’s backyard… it was all so peaceful. The far-off grumble of an engine startled you back into action. Dropping the bag in the can, you let the lid slam as you turned toward the house.
Back inside, you moved on autopilot to the one safe space that remained after all this time. The office door was open just a crack, and a dim glow filtered out into the hall. Without knocking, you snuck into the room. It was an unspoken rule between you and your father. If the door was open, then it was okay to come inside. The room was filled with the orange light that came through the lampshade in the corner. There was just enough illumination to clearly display the piles of paper that were spread out over the surface of his desk.
Sitting there, Ice held one of the letters in his hand. The blank expression plastered over his features was broken at the sound of the door coming open. Snapping his head to look at you, the concern from earlier returned in full force. The corners of his lips turned down as he took in the sight of you.
You stayed planted by the door. The soft click of his keyboard forced you to look away from him toward the screen. He typed slowly and deliberately, before turning back to look at you as you read.
It’s okay if you’re not all right.
And that was all it took. Tears pooled in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. When they didn’t come, Ice stood from his chair and closed the space between you. His strong arms closed around your body, holding you close to his chest. Wrapped in his loving warmth, you let go of your composure. Silent sobs shook your shoulders, and your tears stained his sweater, but that didn’t matter. Holding you tighter, he kept you as steady as possible through the waves of emotion. The faint scent of his cologne enveloped you the longer you clung to him.
In time, the tears slowed giving you back control of your lungs and body. Sensing that it was okay to move, he guided you forward to the open chair next to his desk before claiming his own. Silence filled the void between you as Ice waited for you to initiate the conversation. He stayed focused on the way your body curled in on itself as you tucked your feet up into the seat with you. Your shoulders rounded into a hunch as your arms circled your knees, your chin resting on top, while your eyes glued themselves to the shelves behind your father. Your joints didn’t like being forced into this position, but perching yourself this way had become a habit. The hours spent next to him, sitting just like this as he chugged away at paperwork, teaching you bits and pieces had left their mark.
“I can’t fly with them,” you confessed quietly.
The movement of keys could be heard as he typed his reply. Hearing them stop, you tugged your face back to the computer and away from the wall.
The screen read, Are we talking about Bradley or Jake?
“Does it matter?”
Ice leveled his gaze at you, his eyes piercing and steady. The answer in them was obvious. Of course, it mattered.
“I know… I know.” turning away again, this time to stare out the office window, your voice quivered as you continued to speak, “It’s just… having them here… seeing the way they look at me…”
Taking his time as he typed, Ice shifted in his seat as he finished.
Glancing back, you knew what it’d say before you even looked, It’s time to let it go, Y/N.
“And do what? Just forget? Pretend like I don’t wish every day that I was the one- ”
Your voice broke forcing you into silence again. You struggled against the tension in your throat. The words you wanted to say were trapped, none of them felt right, and yet you were bursting at the seams to speak.
That’s not what I mean and you know it… it's not about forgetting, it's about moving forward. You deserve to be happy.
“And how do I do that?”
You have to forgive yourself…
His hands stayed on the keys, but he stopped typing for a moment as if he was thinking hard about what to say next.
And you have to talk to them, Y/N. You can’t run away from them forever. I know you’re hurting, but so are they. And I know you blame yourself for so much, but it’s never going to get easier until you face it. You have to do it, for you and for them.
“I know you're right, but…. Jake… he’s so angry with me, he hates me, and I even can’t blame him. If I were him… I’d want nothing to do with me. His best friend’s in the fucking ground because of me. How do I even begin to apologize for that? It’s not possible” New tears formed as you tried to focus on your breathing, but they didn’t fall, not yet, “And, Bradley? I just… I miss him more than I should and I don’t want to feel that way anymore. It hurts too much.”
Choking on the last of your words, you unfolded from your seat and walked to the bookshelf across the room. The tips of your fingers brushed along the spines of the aging books, their cracked leather was grounding beneath your touch.
The pair of you remained quiet for a while, each lost in thought, but a rough cough from your father stopped you in your tracks. Turning back to face him, the lamp's bright light gleamed off his glasses. In your silence, he’d picked up the letter he’d been looking at earlier. He focused on it intensely for a moment longer before lifting his eyes to meet yours. Studying him, you noticed just how run down he looked as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. The look on his face sent your stomach plummeting to the floor. The realization of what must have been on that paper clicked into place with a sickening thump.
At almost a whisper you asked the dreaded question, “It's back, isn’t it?”
Ice simply nodded 'yes' as he sat down the paper.
“Does mom know?”
He nodded 'yes' again.
“What about-”
He cut you off with a shake of his head. This time it was a 'no' and you understood why. He knew you were going to ask about your siblings because last time you'd been the one to help them pick up the pieces after that conversation. It had to happen sooner rather than later, but you also knew that it would be a careful one with each word chosen thoughtfully.
“And Uncle Pete, does he know?” you stared back at him already knowing the answer before he gave it. A broken look of anguish came over your father’s face as he admitted the truth. His wingman was in the dark about this development. There was a reason Mav was back in town on orders from your father, and it wasn’t just because he was a great pilot. He needed to say goodbye… but he just hadn’t figured out how.
“Is there anything they can do? Anything the doctors haven’t tried?”
Another 'no' and the sight of his answer tore at you in a way you could never have imagined. Panic fluttered deep in your body, sending a flush over your skin. Seeing your shoulders hitch, and your eyes glaze over, Ice was out of his chair and to you in an instant. Holding you tightly to him yet again, he hid his face from view to give himself time to collect his own emotions.
Feeling him shudder, you pulled back just enough to look at his face. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need to see him fully as you spoke, “You can’t leave me yet… I can’t do this without you, Dad. I don't wanna-"
And for the first time, he spoke, “I’ll always be with you… no matter where you go.”
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#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun maverick fan fic#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fan fiction#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader
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Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing.
Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing.
W/C: 2k
Characters: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Mentions/Small Parts: Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Harvard.
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Notes: I saw this post on Instagram, and it immediately made me think of Rooster. Songs: Is This Love by White Snake, Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli.
A/N: the wonderful and brilliant @writercole helped with ideas, summary, and title and helped make the muses comply.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch
Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms
Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
It’s been a week. It’s not even worth listing all the things that went wrong. The icing on the cake (presumably made with salt and not sugar - cause it's that kind of week) was your date canceled on you as you took a seat at a booth in the diner.
You sigh as the waitress comes to take your order, accepting that you’ve been stood up and decide you may as well eat since you’re already there.
“I’ll take a cheeseburger, side salad, no tomato, extra dressing, please.”
The elderly waitress smiles. It’s comforting and sweet. Her name tag says Pattie, and you imagine her grandkids get overly excited whenever Granny Pat visits. “You want the fries with that?”
You ponder for half a second before declining, “No thanks.”
“You sure, hun? They’re included in the price.”
You had dirty Cajun fries from the food cart outside the office at lunch. You know the diner’s fries won’t taste as good, besides you want to leave room for dessert, so you politely decline again.
“I’ll take them, Pattie!”
You twist in the booth to look over your shoulder and find the source. A handsome guy sitting at the bar, wearing a light yellow floral print shirt, smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You’d clocked him when you’d entered. You’d caught his eye too, and he’d given you a broad smile. His mustache was a flashback to a decade or two ago, but he wore it well. He carried it with a sense of pride and confidence. It looked good on him. Anyone else, you’d have thought it was creepy.
“Hush now, boy,” Pattie scolds, but she’s smiling when she turns back to face you.
You chuckle, nodding toward him, “He’ll take the fries.”
Pattie takes your menu and disappears to the kitchen. You look at Mr. Mustache, who tips his beer bottle to you before bringing it to his lips.
You grab your phone and message the “No Scrubs” group.
You: Stood up again. Where you guys at?
Cole: At that navy bar I was telling you about. Come meet us.
You: I’ve just ordered dinner. Will see how I feel after.
You scroll social media while you wait. Pattie comes by a few times, brings cutlery and sauces, and refreshes your drink.
You hear the bell ring to signal an order’s ready, and your mouth waters when you see Pattie heading toward you. The burger looks delicious. The brioche bun glistens under the lights as the cheese melts over the edge onto the plate. It's so tall there’s a wooden skewer through the top to keep it in place, and the fries are fat and look perfectly crispy.
Pattie sets the plate down, “Enjoy, sweetheart,” and you swallow before drool slips out.
Just as you pull the skewer out of the burger, you hear, “Those are mine, remember.”
You laugh, twisting to look at him again. He’s got a cheerful smirk, but his brow is raised as if challenging you. “Why don’t you join me?” you offer.
He grabs his beer and twists off his stool. The smile remains while he saunters over, and you can’t take your eyes off him, admiring the sway of his hips. He’s confident in an almost bashful way. The open floral shirt shows a white shirt beneath it, and the contrast against his tanned skin looks as edible as your burger.
“Tell me,” he says, grabbing a fry and biting off the end. “What kind of psychopath doesn’t have fries with their burger?”
You shrug, “The same kind that offers to take a stranger's fries.”
“Touché,” he chuckles.
You laugh, explaining, “I had fries at lunch and want dessert.”
He nods as if now understanding your logic. “Ah, she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“I’ve heard that the chocolate malt here is the best in the state. I can’t pass that up,” you grin.
“Well, that is true,” he shrugs, popping another fry into his mouth. “Make or break question here, whipped cream on top of the shake?”
“I fear this will affect our budding friendship,” you tease, “but ab-so-lutely whipped cream on top of the shake. Among other places,” you wink.
His boldness flounders for half a second, recognizing he’s met his match, but he recovers quickly. Wetting his lips and giving a cheeky smile. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“I don’t see a ring, and you’re here alone. Are you single?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes, I’m definitely flirting with you.”
His smile widens and remains while the conversation flows and the two of you eat. Flirtations and laughter pass back and forth effortlessly.
Your phone chimes with another message, and you see the ‘No Scrubs’ group chat has two unread messages. You don’t want to be rude and pick it up to reply, but you know if you don’t, they’ll likely call to make sure you’re okay.
“Somewhere else you need to be?” he asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice that he attempts to hide behind a sip of beer.
“No, just some friends trying to get me to go meet them at some Navy bar.” You roll your eyes and type a quick ‘maybe’ before locking your phone, setting it face down on the table.
“Navy bar? The Hard Deck?” he questions, tilting his head to the side.
“I think that’s what Cole said. Do you know it?”
“That’s actually where I’m headed after. I could give you a ride. If you need one, that is.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”
“Rooster?” you laugh. “Please tell me there’s a good story there.”
“There might be. I guess that depends on if you want to hear it.”
“How about you tell me on the way to the bar?”
The open window lifts your hair slightly, and every time Rooster gets a hit of your perfume, he inhales deeply, savoring it.
He sticks to the speed limit, if not a little below it. He’s not quite ready to say goodbye to you. He’s never had such an instant, effortless connection with someone, and he wants to make it last as long as possible.
You’d laughed at the story about his name. You’d have never guessed that it was a nickname his uncle gave him when he was a kid. The radio is playing at a low volume, but as soon as the opening bars of Is This Love by White Snake start, you lean over and crank the volume as loud as it will go, singing along as if he isn’t there.
“Is this love that I'm feeling?” you sing, holding a pretend microphone. “Is this the love that I've been searching for? Is this love, or am I dreaming? This must be love. 'Cause, it's really got a hold on me. A hold on me.”
You can’t hold a tune, and your voice cracks a few times, but still, you belt it out with vigor, and Rooster thinks he may be falling in love. Did Pattie put something in those fries?
“Sorry,” you say, settling back into your seat, “that’s one of my favorites.”
It’s one of my favorites now too. But he doesn’t say it. Instead, he laughs, “I never would’ve guessed.”
“Are you not a car karaoke kinda guy?” you ask. “You seem like you like to sing along.”
“I’ve been known to hold a few car concerts,” he admits, “but I didn’t want to interrupt your flow.”
“Can you sing as good as me?”
He looks at you and sees the jesting expression. You know you can’t sing, and you don’t care one little bit.
“I’d love to serenade you,” he says, “but unfortunately, we’re here.”
“Some other time?” you ask, and he swears you sound hopeful.
Rooster opens the Hard Deck door, and as soon as he hears the hustle and bustle from inside, he wishes he’d suggested you stay at the diner. Holding the door open, he gestures for you to enter first, and you smile a thanks as you pass by.
You stop a few feet inside, scanning the room as he stands beside you. This is the one time he hopes Hangman is being himself and has, by some miracle, coaxed your friends over to the group so Rooster has an excuse to keep talking to you.
“Those are my friends over there,” you say, dashing all his hopes as you point to the pool tables on the opposite side of the room.
“I’m over there,” Rooster says, pointing to where the Dagger squad is assembled.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for the fries.”
“Anytime.”
“Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You too.”
There’s a pause, neither of you knowing what to do. You rise to the tips of your toes, and he dips to let you place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
His cheeks quickly flush, hearing the jeers, shouts, and wolf whistles, but you drop back down with a laugh.
“Sorry,” he says. “They’re a bunch of idiots.”
He scolds himself for being an idiot as you walk away. He should invite you over or ask for your number, but he’s suddenly tongue-tied. He stares at you, frozen to the spot, long enough to see your friends turn to look at him as you settle into your seat.
Throughout the night, flirtatious glances are passed back and forth, and smiles exchanged when they linger. Of course, it’s Hangman who notices the consequence of Rooster’s error.
“Looks like you lose again, Rooster,” the blond pilot remarks, a way too smug grin showing off his perfectly white teeth. “Too snug on that perch, and Harvard is gonna take your lady right out from under your beak.”
Rooster doesn’t care if it proves Hangman’s point. He looks directly at you. Harvard is whispering in your ear. You're smiling, but Rooster thinks it's more of a polite, courteous smile than genuine interest.
But it’s the kick he needs to take action. He looks to Phoenix, Bob, and Mickey, almost pleading, “I need your help.”
Phoenix nods once, Bob smiles, and Mickey asks, “What?”
“He wants to do the Goose move,” Phoenix explains without Bradley needing to tell her any more.
“What’s the Goose move?”
“It’s the move his Dad did to get his Mom,” Bob says.
“I don’t know what that is,” Mickey shrugs.
“Technically, we've been doing it for years,” Rooster says, “it’s just that this time, it involves my future wife.”
“So, no pressure,” Bob gulps.
“Relax. I’ve got a plan,” Phoenix winks, gesturing for the three guys to come closer.
Harvard doesn’t seem all that smart, and you wonder if it's an ironic nickname or callsign, as Rooster had explained. Harvard certainly doesn’t understand body language. You’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to put some distance between you three times. The third time he slides his arm around your shoulders.
Before you can shrug, his arm slips off, and suddenly, a pretty brunette woman is in his place. “Hi,” she says brightly, her back to a flustered-looking Harvard. “I’m Phoenix, and this is Fanboy. We’re friends with Rooster.”
Butterflies dance in your stomach. Before she can say anymore or you have a chance to wonder why he’s sent his friends to rescue you, the jukebox cuts off, and a collective groan echoes around the room.
“That was supposed to happen,” Phoenix smiles. Fanboy is speaking quietly to Harvard, and he doesn’t seem happy about whatever is being said, but you're grateful for the interruption.
There’s a soft twinkling from a piano somewhere in the room, and after a few more notes, you find the source. Phoenix continues, “That’s Bob, and you’ve met Rooster.”
Your eyes drift up from the piano player and land on Bradley, fingers tapping the wooden top, while Bob continues to find the right melody.
Rooster’s eyes are locked on you, a shy smirk lifting the corner of his mustache.
“Thanks for the save,” you say to Phoenix but keep your eyes on Rooster.
“Well, it wasn’t the actual intention, but Harvard can be a bit…” she trails off.
“Thick?”
“That’s a good word for him,” she laughs.
The bright random notes turn into a clear, rich melody that flows through the room moments before the smooth baritone of Rooster’s voice fills the air. “You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
Damn, he can sing!
Taking the lyrics literally, he doesn’t avert his eyes while he serenades you. You feel Phoenix’s hand at your elbow, but you can’t look away from the gorgeous man belting out a song just for you. Only when he draws closer do you realize she’s guiding you to him.
The bar is packed, and the crowd gathers around the piano, but somehow Rooster is always in your line of sight, and then Fanboy is in front of you, splitting the crowd to let you through.
It feels surreal but magical when somehow there’s a clear path straight to Rooster. It looks like an aisle leading to an altar, and the man that awaits you has been sent from the heavens because he’s gorgeous, kind, funny, and clearly has a talent for commanding a room. You wonder what else you could uncover, given some time.
“At long last, love has arrived,” Rooster sings as you reach his side. Phoenix slips away as you reach for Bradley’s outstretched hand.
Definitely an altar, and you’ll happily worship here for eternity. Interlocking your fingers with his, he pulls you against him. “Now that I found you, stay,” it’s more than a song, it's a question, and you nod.
Slowly, he inches closer, and the crowd takes over, singing the chorus, when his lips connect with yours and the world melts away.
Tag List Info
Take To The Skies: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @atarmychick007
Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms
#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fan fiction#rooster fan fic#reader insert#rooster singing#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#meet cute#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader#rooster x fem!reader
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Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing.
Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing.
W/C: 2k
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
READ IT NOW: Tumblr // A03
#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fan fiction#rooster fan fic#reader insert#rooster singing#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#meet cute#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader#rooster x fem!reader#tgm#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#top gun fic
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Since this morning I have been thinking of an MavIce wedding.
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Hold my hand | p.m.m
paring: maverick x gn!reader
summary: You never doubted what you felt for Pete ever. But maybe he has. After a strange conversation you begin to worry it might be all over.
warnings: swearing, whole lot of angst, spoilers for the second film and fluff
word count: 1.3k
a/n: im honestly not even sorry im full on in love with maverick now and I blame my friend. anyway enjoy this mess. You can tell this has been a slow writing year for me cause this has been a WIP since June.
Readers call sign is willow i have no reason other than I like it
MASTERLIST REQUEST
It was official you were running late.
Rooster’s birthday party had started half an hour ago and you weren’t even ready.
You were shocked by how little you knew your own apartment. Your organisation skills had gotten worse since Maverick had moved in with all his things. Before that you had a somewhat idea of where things were.
Like the grey top you liked to wear during training, when it was clean it would be thrown over your least favourite chair in the kitchen (along with all the other clean laundry) and when it was dirty it would be rounded up in the left corner of the bathroom.
But an unshocking fact about Maverick was he liked things clean and in order. And you couldn’t even say it was the navy training because you had the same training and still you like things how they were.
“Christ” you muttered heading to the bedroom, stopping to pet your old tabby cat that lay on the bed. Just out on the balcony sat Maverick. The balcony looked over the sea, The sky was a mix of gold and pink, his tanned skin shining in the light. At this time of day the beach was nearly empty, but you knew he was watching the sea.
It was strange the way he felt about the sea, it was a friend and a thief all at once.
You paused in the doorway and watched him, he was wearing this funny look.
“What’s with the face?” You questioned.
He smiled and looked down to his feet. “What face?”.
You straighten your back, “it’s your thinking face but not the fun one” you told him. Kneeling on the floor so you could see eye to eye . “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours”.
He was silent, which worried you more.
“Mav? You’re starting to scare me” you stated.
He broke eye contact with you, straight away you could see his body language change and morph into a more relaxed shape. You frowned as he stood up, his head turning away from the sea and his worries.
“We better get going,” he said with a smile, then he left you kneeling on the floor. Turning your body you watched as he walked into your shared bedroom picking up the jacket you had been looking for. And left it on the bed for you.
Damn Maverick
xox
Maverick was a shockingly great actor, as soon as you walked through the doors of the hard deck he grinned to the other aviators, pressed his lips to your temple, then went over to Penny.
Still watching him you made your way to your friends. Wished Rooster a happy birthday and tried to laugh along with whatever joke Hangman made but you couldn’t stay present when you were worried about Mav.
“You good, Willow” Hangman asked, clapping a hand on your back.
You nodded, looking away from Mav. Hangman waiting for you to speak. “Yeah” you smiled.
You tried to enjoy yourself, you had a few drinks, laughed at everyone’s jokes and answered any questions that were thrown your way. But every now and then you would look over to the bar where Mav sat. Sometimes he’d be talking to Penny and other times he’d be on his phone, being very careful not to put it down on the bar.
Hangman pulled you away from your spot to question what you thought about the gift he had brought Rooster, after assuring him he did a good job and not to worry. You went back to your original spot and searched for maverick.
He wasn’t where you had seen him last, turning around in a circle you still couldn’t find him. You were about to call out for him when you spotted him sat on the deck watching the sea again.
After making sure no one was watching you opened the doors to the outer deck, pausing as the salty air blew against your skin, Maverick head tilted slightly hearing your footsteps.
“Will you please talk to me?” you begged him, lowing down to sit besides him.
His jaw clicked, the tell tell sign he couldn’t hold something back. “You sure you’re not making a mistake with me?”.
You frowned at his question. “Why would you think something like that?”.
He brought his face up, the setting sun hitting his dark brown eyes you could never get enough of. He reached out and held your hand, callus hand in callus hand. You frowned harder, confused by what he was doing.
He swallowed, gearing himself up, like he was braving himself for a fight. “I love you, you know that right”.
“I’d hope so cap” you tried to joke, letting your old pet name for him fall off your tongue. The name had an odd effect, his eyes flashed almost like he was remembering something.
Then he smiles through an exhale, his rough thumb drawing a line along your hand. He somewhat dropped his grip. “What do you see in me, Willow? I’ve seen you with the other and you could have your pick”.
You took his one hand in both of yours, even with the years that separated the two of you, you never felt a gap until now. But it was like he was making the gap. “I don’t want any of them. I want you”.
Breathing in the salty air and the leather smell that belonged to Maverick. “Where’s this all come from baby, if you want out just tell me that, don’t question why I picked you” your voice went wobbly.
“Of course I don’t want that” he said with some force, that he jumped to his feet. He ran a hand through his short black hair. “I think about you so damn much it drives me crazy, I worry about you all about, I wonder what you're doing. I-“ he stopped himself.
You felt your eyes well up, “no. Go on. What else?” You asked.
“I can’t bear to lose you, honey. I know it would end me, I can’t-“ he sniffed, then shook his head. “I can’t lose you too”.
You stared at him, knowing who the other person was. Goose. Iceman. Two wounds, one years old and still as fresh and the other. But that was grief, that wound never healed, not really. It was like a bad leg, some days it didn’t bother you at all, other days it would hurt all day long and wouldn’t stop for days and other times that pain would hit you from nowhere and the whole time you’d feel like you couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t you think I feel the same way? Not matter how many times you come back to me, for half a second every time your plane takes off i think I’ll never see you again” you told him.
He nodded and swallowed.
“But” you started, “I can take that pain and worry and whatever comes with it as long as I’m with you”. You stood up, dusting the sand off your legs, “you think you can do the same?”.
He walked up to you, closing the distance both physically and emotionally. This time he took one of your hands in both of his, his gaze locked on them. The waves crashing against the beach and the soft beat of music from the party were nothing to the hard beating of your heart.
Neither of you could speak, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else, trying to guard your heart. You could tell what he was thinking, over head the sky turned grey, an unexpected turn.
But the whole night had been unexpected.
All he had to do was talk. To tell you he needed you, just once and you would never let go. Ever.
He inhaled, hope pricked through you.
“I can do anything if you stand by my side”.
#top gun#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fan fiction#pete maverick mitchell#pete maverick Mitchell fanfic#pete maverick Mitchell fan fiction#maverick fanfic#maverick x reader#pete mitchell x reader
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If Only the Neighbors Knew | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd
Summary: A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings + Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader, 18+ only folks, swearing, unprotected pinv, oral (f!receiving), self-indulgent as per usual, too many italics. Oh, I am blushing and humbled at all the love that Neighbor!Bob has received! It's exactly a month later and now he's back and making us collectively drop our panties again, as well as all the other women in the neighborhood! But don't worry, he's only got eyes for you ;) Happy Holidays, my dears, thanks for reading!
meet Robert From Next Door here
He’s setting up refreshments in the dining room. The perfect viewpoint to where you perch on his slate gray sectional, making small talk with the neighborhood. Knees primly crossed under your skirt, smile wide as you laugh about the neighbor kids’ shenanigans. And all he can think about was when you walked in, the soft flush in your cheeks when you said, “Hi, Robert,” and gave him the lightest peck on the cheek, as if you did it all the time. As if it didn’t make him weak in the knees.
The only perk of hosting the HOA meeting is that you’re in his home. The fact other people are also here? Not ideal. It’s been a month since he had you straddled on his lap, sweetly moaning into his mouth, and frankly he wants to send everyone home so he can try the same thing on his couch.
But he offered to host because it’s the neighborly thing to do. Swung by the market on the way home from base and grabbed crackers and cheese, mixed nuts, and too many bottles of wine because once someone brings up the length of grass everyone turns to drinking.
He’s replenishing the plastic cups and water jug when he catches your eye. The small quirk of your smile, a silently flirty hi, has him flustered. Time to start this godforsaken meeting so he’s closer to getting you alone.
“So, Lieutenant Floyd, what’s new with you?” Mrs. Jacobs has already helped herself to enough wine by the time he joins the neighborhood in his sitting room. She’s flanked by her cronies - minions in matching sweater sets - and all instantly turn their attention on him. While not someone who normally turns heads, the day Robert Floyd bought his little bungalow with the creaky porch he was instantly the talk of the street. A young single Naval officer? The women could barely believe their luck. They were all married, but shameless flirting had never been out of question.
He takes a slow sip of his iced tea, biding time. On the other side of the room, he can feel your amused smile. The rumor mill would churn violently if anyone found out what was going on with you two. So you had been sneaking around the last few weeks. A few stolen afternoons kissing on the couch, errand trips turned into steaming up his truck’s windows. It’s been the best month of his life.
The WSO is spared answering when the president of the homeowner’s association clears her throat to start the meeting, shushing her grumbling husband. The collection of husbands sat at the back with their beers, arms crossed, giggling like schoolgirls at their comrade’s chiding. Normally Robert sat with them, but felt bold and came to sit near you on the sectional, one large decorative pillow acting as a barrier.
As expected, the meeting is trivially boring. While he tries to focus on repair costs and chimney safety, all he can think about is your hand only inches away. If he only shifted a few inches - only a few, it would be subtle - he could run the tips of his fingers along the back of your soft hands, intertwining your fingers and rubbing his thumb soothingly along your wrist. And if he was that close, he might as well dip his face into the crook of your neck, where the scent of your perfume was strongest and most delicious. While he was there, it would be so easy to press a k-
“Anyone have any questions about this?” He’s abruptly distracted from his daydream by several neighbors raising their hand, disgruntled by potential disruptions to their homes.
You catch his eye, eyebrows raised, curious on his thoughts about filter replacement. Or if he's as bored as you are. But he simply gives you a dazed, shy smile, his eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips.
The meeting adjourns - thank god - and neighbors create their cliques to download. It feels safe to start your own conversation (the first the two of you have spoken since you pressed a kiss to his cheek) and you turn to him eagerly. Just as you’re about to compliment his selection of cheese, a manicured hand reaches past you and touches Robert’s bicep.
Mrs. Jacobs and company have returned. “Lieutenant, before I head out I wanted to thank you again for taking care of my lawn last week. Such a big help.”
The tips of his ears blush pink, the tone of his neighbor’s voice a tad too suggestive for a simple chore. Mr. Jacobs was nearing his sixties and spent most of these meetings complaining about an old sports injury. It seemed the least the young WSO could do was offer landscaping help after all that rain last week. His mower was already out and he’d mown the Jacobs’ lawn without a second thought.
It had helped you had been outside planting bulbs. He liked the eye candy in your slightly too tight jeans.
The women continue to praise him and his generous ways. His cheeks on fire as Mrs. Connelly gushed about how great it was to have a big, strong Navy man in the neighborhood. As much as he wants to look at you, the embarrassment flooding his system has his eyes glued to the hardwood.
“You know,” Mrs. Branaugh began, exchanging an excited glance with her friends, “the city hall fundraiser next month is a little short on volunteers for our auction. Any chance any other lieutenants would be available?” Her eyes shamelessly rake down his chest, practically salivating at the idea of fighter pilots parading around in suits.
You feel the licks of jealousy itch at your palms.
He sputters out words, unsure if they’re agreement or excuses. Robert’s suffocating on his embarrassment. Mrs. Connelly and Mrs. Jacobs delight in his blush. The latter gushes, “I’d be happy to pay any of them to mow my lawn this summer.” She turns to her friends and winks. “Shirtless, of course!”
You nearly spit out your drink. The host of the evening looks moments from passing out. Your middle aged neighbors are cackling, lost in their tipsy fantasies. It’s time for everyone to go home.
Thankfully most of the men are ready to leave the gossip fest and return to their abodes. Gathering up their wives and thanking Lt. Floyd for his hospitality, the neighborhood departs the tidy bungalow, calls of, “Come over for dinner sometime!” thrown over their shoulders.
Amongst those leaving is you, slipping on your winter jacket and adjusting a thick scarf for the short walk. Barely recovered from his neighbors’ lascivious comments, he’s sad to see you go. Wishes you would straggle behind and pretend to help clean up, only to ignore the dishes and catch up in the biblical way. He can practically feel your soft skin in his hands. But you give him that sweet smile of yours and follow Mr. Sampson out the door, the promise of another time.
He’s never hosting these meetings again.
After much coaxing from her husband, the last of his neighbors finally leave and he’s alone in his bungalow again. Finally. The cheerful oxford blue walls, the hand-me-down dining chairs, the framed photo of his squadron above the mantle. Being permanently stationed has its perks.
He makes quick work of cleaning, bringing the remnants of his makeshift cheeseboard to the kitchen before wiping down the dining table and straightening the couch cushions. The multitude of empty wine bottles are taken out to the recycling before turning off the porch light, ready to retire for the night. He’s getting a glass of water when a sound pricks his ear.
The faintest knock. So quiet he would miss it had he been anywhere else in the house. Instantly on the defense, tall, broad frame coming to its full height, he’s prepared for the worst as he approaches the back door that leads to his small yard.
Another timid knock.
The biggest, warmest smile takes over his face as he opens the door and sees his visitor. There you stand, cheeks pink with cold and your lip trapped between your teeth. You sneak.
Robert quickly invites you inside, enveloping you with his warm body once you’ve toed off your boots. The hug has tension escaping every muscle, finally back in each other’s arms as it should be. The secrecy, while necessary, is the worst.
“Did you forget something?” His deep voice mumbles into your hair. You push back to look at his face, but his hands are steadfast on your hips, holding you exactly where he wants you. In the month of shared kisses and lighthearted flirting, he’s never had you alone in his house.
Resigned to resting your cheek against his shoulder, you reply, “Didn’t want anyone suspicious if I stayed behind.”
“Ah, so you did the ol’ double back?" You nod. "And you’re sure no one saw you?” His mischievous smile shows he’s all jokes, but in the back of his mind he’s curious if any of his neighbors saw you in the minute gap between your backyards. The same trek he’s been making for weeks after all the lights on the street are out.
You shake your head against his soft crewneck. It’s been three days since you’ve felt his warmth and you’re melting. The faint smell of sage and citrus - and a tinge of jet fuel - flooding your senses and you’re so glad you risked sneaking over.
Watching him host the HOA meeting with his little refreshment table? So hot.
While you both want to sit down over a cup of cocoa and catch up on how silly your neighbors are, something else is on your minds. It’s been lying dormant for weeks now, awaiting the moment to rear its head. And in the dim lighting of Robert’s house, on a quiet winter Friday night, the moment is just right.
The first kiss is intended to be innocent, lightly brushing his lips against yours to remind you of his affection. Enjoying the plush softness of your glossy lips. But when the softest of moans leaves you, desperation hits.
He needs you.
The two of you have been playing it safe - you are neighbors after all - but as mere mortals there are needs to be met. The softness of your skin. The broadness of his shoulders. The tension that has been building and building since he watched you dunk that tea bag and knew it was now or never.
You tear away from his face, as painful as it is, to rasp against his jaw. “Robert, your house is so nice. Can you show me your bedroom?”
Squeals of delight bounce off the hallway walls as he all but drags you to the other side of the house. His fingertips dig into your hips, a little too eager, his glasses slipping down his nose as he steals kisses. As he showers you in affection, you appreciate his home out of the corner of your eye. The small collection of black-and-white snapshots from different naval bases he’s worked on. A pencil holder that looks handmade. Your heart lurches for this man whose heart is too big for this bungalow.
Feet slow at a doorway, his hands steadying you against the frame. As you look up into his sky blue eyes, nerves shoot down both your spines. The delicious thought pops into your head that you’re finally going to see him naked and you feel lightheaded.
He can’t let himself think about your body or he will pass out.
His bedroom fits him. Lamps cast a cheery glow onto the mahogany dresser where he keeps a majority of the US Navy paraphernalia he’s been collecting since he was a child - little figurines and framed airshow stills. A large wingback chair sits cozily in the corner, laden with a flannel he had debated wearing; you’re glad he stuck with the buttery soft crewneck you can’t help running your palms over. And the main event, against the far wall, looking as inviting and luxurious as anything, is Robert’s king size bed. He prides himself on the curved wood headboard he spent a summer working on.
Tentatively, he takes your hand and invites you over the threshold. Your eyes rake over everything to find any red flags (none found - it’s okay he has a lot of plane figurines and not a lot of houseplants - he’s gone half the year, those plants are gonna die) before you let your fingers brush over the blue gray of his heavy plush comforter. Similar to his living room walls.
“You must like blue.”
Cerulean eyes sparkle. His fingers tangle in the cobalt cashmere of your sweater. “I really like blue.”
This time, your lips brush his. The softest sweep before letting yourself lean into him, greedily running your tongue across his thin lips, begging for entrance. His cheeks the softest mauve as he opens his mouth to groan his pleasure. Despite your new surroundings, it feels like home when your tiny pink tongue finds itself nestled against his.
A bolt of heat travels down your spine and your hands fist in his crewneck, torn between enjoying the soft fabric and wanting it off. While your hands are desperate and needy, running up and down his torso in indecision, he’s so soft and gentle with you. Fingers tracing the delicate slope of your jaw, a warm hand on your hip teasing the skin above your skirt. Sweet noises blown directly into your mouth as he savors your taste.
The past month has built this up. That year of tension? Absolutely nothing compared to the burning heat across your skin every time you see him now. You know how he tastes, how he smells, how he whines when you lick the spot behind his ear. The itch consuming your body needs to be scratched, needs to be tamed. You need him.
He seems to be on the same wavelength as you feel his hands lead your hips toward the bed, legs awkwardly backing up until they hit crisp bedding. The man keeps a tidy bed. You’re hopelessly more attracted to him.
Tenderly Robert lowers the two of you to the bed, your back relaxing against the blanket as your hair frames your face. The tips of his fingers trace your cheek as he appreciates how beautiful you are. Embarrassed by the attention, you pout until he brings his lips to yours again, loving the way his entire body encloses around you, keeping you safe.
Your legs have a mind of their own as they wrap around his hips, arms sliding down his torso. His cheeks heating as he catches onto you, his own hips rolling into yours. The low noises escaping your throat as he grinds against your bare thigh, turning him on even more. Your chest pressed against his, the swell of your breasts as your back arches - it’s heaven. If it weren’t for your grounding presence stroking a hand through his hair he would think Phoenix crashed the jet that afternoon.
Finally too impatient to wait any longer, you tug on the hem of Robert’s crewneck, silently begging for it to go. He sits up - awkward to do when his pelvis is glued against yours - and pinches the neck of it, shrugging it off his solid frame. Knocks his glasses askew a bit. When he turns back to you, white hot desire slaps you in the face. This six foot pilot, shirtless, with smoldering blue eyes behind fogged glasses and mussed hair? There are no words.
Who would have thought peppermint tea would lead to all this?
You lose yourself in his kisses again, running your hands along the smooth expanse of skin now available. Your hips desperately rutting against his for more friction, a pool of arousal settles in your underwear with how fucking good he looks covered in your affection. Your lips find his neck and suck, the sounds emitting from him indecent. His hands settle at the hem of your skirt, brushing the skin of your thighs as he worries the fabric, contemplating his next move.
“Please.” It’s quiet, but your plea nearly echos in the room. His eyes meet yours. “Please touch me.”
There’s no going back anymore. Reluctantly pulling away from your body, he lowers himself to his shins, large hands smoothing over your thighs. As he rubs soft circles into your muscles, the hem of your skirt shifts higher. His heart thuds at the sight of your gorgeous, soft thighs, completely on display for him. Tentatively he presses a kiss to your inner knee. When you don’t shy away, he pecks another slightly higher. His nose skims the thin skin and you whimper. It’s music to his ears.
Your skirt is nearly around your waist, delicate panties in view. Robert’s heart violently slams in his chest and his erection throbs, begging to be freed from his jeans. He can’t help but focus on the spot that conceals your center, your arousal wet and dark.
His lips kiss your inner thigh again, just inches from where you desperately want to feel them. “May I?”
You’re frantically nodding, your fingers crashing into his as you work in tandem to get the offending little piece of lace off. As they come down, his kisses trail up, teasing the skin to elicit tiny whimpers. Hot breath skims your pelvis and it’s torture. He delicately places your knees on his broad shoulders, warm skin on warm skin.
Propping yourself up on one elbow, desperate to see his face, his pretty blue eyes smile at you as he finally, finally licks one broad stripe up your folds.
Your brain effectively short circuits.
Like a broken dam, once he’s had a taste there is no going back. Hot, thick swipes over your wetness, desperate to soak up your sweet arousal. Unintentionally his nose crashes into your clit, his messy tongue work bringing him deeper and deeper within you. Above him, you’re singing his praises, mouth open wantonly. “Right there! Right there!”
The hours he’s spent wondering what you taste like, if you’re even sweeter than your kisses, have paid off. He’s addicted. Wrapping his arms around your gorgeous thighs, obscene sounds squelching from his lewd tongue, he brings a thumb to your clit to draw deliciously tight circles. The way your back arches has him panting.
It’s hard to tell whether it’s the tingle in your toes or the fiery knot in your stomach that grows faster. The way his tongue flicks over that ring of muscle has your head spinning. His lips capture a fold and suck, moaning at how sweet you are for him.
“Taste so good, baby. Knew you would, my sweet girl.”
Your head falls back when a finger prods at your opening, slipping through your silky wetness. If his tongue was good, his fingers are a gift. A thick digit that reaches deep, finding that spongey spot that makes your stomach curl. It works its way back and forth, bringing moans to your lips and entrancing him as he watches you take him so easily. He can barely help himself when he slips in a second, salivating over how effortlessly you stretch for him.
“That’s my girl, so good.”
Two fingers deep and a hot mouth on your clit, the world is careening around you. All sense of direction lost, too hot in your sweater, hips desperately following his lips and fingers. Your hand shoves in his hair, holding him there because it feels so good. He thrusts deeper, stretching his fingers within your tight walls. The pressure against your cervix and clit make your head pound. And then suddenly…
“R-Rob-by!” You wail into the bedroom, voice lost amongst the hot air and salacious sounds coming from between your legs. Thighs tightening around his cheeks, knees buckling as you bring your legs to your torso, curling into yourself as your orgasm blindsides you. Your brain dizzy with pleasure and relief as he keeps working his tongue within you, one hand stroking your stomach soothingly as the other disappears over the edge of the bed.
Time disappears as you lazily ride his tongue until the oversensitivity kicks in. As your hips squirm away, he presses one last kiss to your clit before dragging himself up to stand. Despite only having two brain cells left after your orgasm, you’re instantly wet again watching how he grinds his palm against the thick bulge in his jeans.
“That feel good?” Your eyes droop happily as you nod, a little sheepish. “You are so gorgeous, so good for me. I’m a lucky man.”
As you sit up on boneless limbs, he swoops down to press a kiss on your sweet lips. The tangy linger of your taste coats his mouth. By itself it’s sexy, but then you see the wet smudges and fog of his glasses, askew on his nose from where he pressed so hard into your cunt, and a deep groan escapes as you attach yourself to him again.
Reaching down, your fingers are desperately working the button of his jeans - the need to feel every part of him against you so dire - but he’s stilling your hands, kissing along your neck. A little flushed at how close he is to cumming at the thought of your hands on him.
His lips brush your ear. “Want to enjoy your mouth any other time, but I really need to be inside you. Please.”
You’re both openly moaning out your insatiable hunger as you fall back and scoot toward the pillows, sitting up on your knees to unzip your skirt and discard it and your sweater. His hand dips beneath his jeans as he soaks up your skin, the way your bra just barely covers your nipples. He makes no show of pushing down his jeans, pulling them from around his ankles along with his socks. His mind is carnally focused on getting you completely naked as he tugs the front of his boxer briefs down to relieve the pressure on his cock.
The two fingers suddenly make sense. Robert is a big guy - not quite as big as the rest of his squadron, but naturally takes up space with his broad shoulders and large hands - and you feel silly for not connecting the dots. His cock is thick, veiny and red tipped, balls bulging with cum. You gulp down a thick breath knowing he’s about to cram every inch of it into you. This is what you’ve been waiting for.
Since the moment Robert stood on your stoop and introduced himself, the magnet between you has fought harder and harder to bring you together. Pulling by invisible strings, bidding their time, until they finally snapped and you gave into your desires, hands rushing all over while taking time to learn the curve of each other’s bodies. Finding the freckles on his shoulders. Exploring the dip of your back. And as you lay beneath your next door neighbor, breaths heavy and nervous and excited, you allow the magnets to snap together fully as he slowly thrusts his hips until they mesh into yours.
He’s deliciously thick, stretching every part of you as he pants heavily into your neck. Kisses sooth your skin while your nails mark his. In the low light of the room, he gazes at you, so enamored with the way you look taking him. The obscene wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, slow and steady so he can savor the way you squeeze him. Your whimpered noises spurring him on.
You bring a hand to his cheek, using every ounce of will to focus on his sweet face. “This is…this is even better than I imagined.”
He couldn’t agree more. Paired with the dreamily debauched smile on your face, his hips piston faster, arms squeezing tighter as you moan wildly. Bodies vibrating with pleasure, your legs wrap around his thighs for the leverage to meet his thrusts. He grunts as hands tangle in his hair, pulling lightly. The eye contact is intense, unable to look away as you both feel the build up. God, his eyes are the perfect shade of blue.
Your fingers slip to your clit, ready to propel you to the finish, when his thumb knocks you away. His circles are tight and rough as he gazes at you with desire-dark eyes. “It’s okay, let me help you.”
Your kind and overly helpful neighbor. Who lends you his lawn mower and hangs up Christmas lights. Who always compliments your coffee. Who times his thrust with a harsh push to your clit and has you immediately careening off the cliff, seeing bursts of light as your second orgasm of the night envelopes you.
His mouth attaches to yours, tongue lapping up your taste, as you moan through your aftershocks. His cock is still deep, stroking that spongey wall as he works you through and chases his own pleasure. You’re still so tight around him and he’s ready to cum. Making sure his lips don’t leave yours, he draws back and thrusts deeply, watching the way your body surges with his strength. Once, twice, and your eyes roll back as he lets go, filling you with his spend so you have everything he can give.
A streetlamp flicks on through the window. You’re only just catching your breath when Robert slips from the bed. A tap turns, there’s some rustling, and he returns with a soft cloth to help you clean up. Too tired to speak, the two of you just exchange sweet smiles as he once again comes to your aid.
The bed dips and he’s back against your body, cocooned in his dreamy coverlet, clean-shaven face pressing kisses against yours. His cheeks the lightest pink as he lowly whispers, “Hi.”
You can’t help the wide grin that overtakes your features. “Hi.”
No other words are needed to express the satiated happiness bursting through your hearts and every pore. His arms wrap around your bare shoulders tighter. A full year of pining for you, of making any excuse to help out to be in your presence…so worth it for the way his whole body feels whole when you’re around.
Sleepy eyes flutter up at him, trying so hard to stay awake and enjoy this time together. He presses a kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger on the light layer of sweat his deep thrusts caused. If only his squadron could see him now, his sweet little neighbor half-asleep after a night with him.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mutters into your hairline as he pulls the blanket around your shoulders. You barely hear him as you begin to dream about a sandy-haired man who brought you the sun, the moon, and the stars.
When the first streams of morning light begin pouring in - because someone was a little too busy doing the deed to close the curtain - two sets of eyes pop open. You’re facing each other, foreheads rested upon the same pillow, eyes half-slits as you adjust to the light. Robert radiates heat, and you curl even closer into him. His lips turn in a satisfied smile as you burrow into his chest.
As the sun rises higher in the sky, the two of you continue chatting in low voices. Legs tangled under the sheets, Robert’s head propped up as he listens to your story about accidentally setting your old kitchen on fire trying to make pancakes. His deep laugh crinkles his eyes, pausing to press the lightest kiss to the corner of your pouting mouth.
You’re just starting to lean into the kisses - hard not to when he looks so kissable - when a grumbly gurgle sounds out from below the covers. Both of your eyes shoot toward your abdomen, a hungry monster in the midst.
“You hungry?” His eyes are so impossibly sweet. You nod slightly, embarrassed at your crass stomach. But he’s already giving you a kind smile and helping you out of the bed, finding a pair of sweatpants and a weathered soft hoodie to keep you warm.
In plaid pajama pants, your neighbor guides you to his kitchen, with the cheery maple cabinets and old-fashioned diner clock, and settles you onto the bench seat in the breakfast nook. “Coffee? Tea…peppermint tea?”
It should actually be illegal how good he looks when he winks at you with that little smirk shirtless.
“Coffee is fine,” you reply, your cheeks hot. He busies himself with coffee and contemplates what he has to constitute for breakfast, and you busy yourself with the day before’s paper. He’s started the sudoku, but abandoned it when his sister called.
Vaguely familiar with the puzzle game, you look at the little scribbled numbers in the boxes to see where he’s left off. Either the mind-blowing sex or lack of caffeine has gotten to you, because you haven’t a clue where to start from.
A steaming mug is placed before you before an arm wraps around your shoulders, looking over your progress. “Yeah, I was stumped too.”
He walks you through his thought process, thick, long fingers tracing over the paper as he points out what should fill out each box. Your eyes stray to him over and over, enjoying how passionate he is about his daily activity. Watching him blush and tilt your head back to the puzzle every time he notices you staring.
You’ve finally gotten a few boxes sorted out when you remember your coffee. Placing a thankful kiss to his cheek, you take a small sip.
“I don’t know how to say this nicely, but this is the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever had in my life.”
Your expression is neutral, trying to keep the disgusted look off your face (unsuccessfully) and he bursts out laughing. Pushing the mug as far as possible from you, missing the delicious imported coffee in your own kitchen, you gladly accept the kiss he presses to your cheek as an apology for the worst thing you have ever consumed.
“How about you are in charge of drinks from now on and I’ll be in charge of food?”
You eye him wearily. “If that’s how you make coffee, I’m scared to see what your cooking skills are like.”
He promises you that his mom requests his lasagna recipe every time he’s back home, and that he’s fairly capable of putting pre-made things in the oven. Good enough for you. Leaning in and molding your mouth to his, the two of you share enough kisses that his bad coffee grows cold.
Turning your attention back to the sudoku puzzle, eager to finish, Robert tightens his grip on your waist. Appreciates the way you look in his clothes after spending the night in his bed. The excited look in your eyes as you solve another box. God, you look so good in his life.
He muses privately that you should just sell your house. He has no plans to ever let you go.
taglist: @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @creatchie8 @hangmanapologist @just-in-case-iloveyou @maryelizabeth13 @petersunderoos96 @rhettsluvr @roosterforme @topherwrites @yuckosworld
join the taglist here
#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd fic#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fan fiction#robert bob floyd fan fiction#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#top gun maverick smut#top gun maverick fan fiction#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x reader#f reader
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I Still Love You - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey
opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist
synopsis: Y/N goes out on her first date in. . . in a while. She struggles with her feelings as if it is time to start moving on, or if she wants to fight for things with Jake.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of cheating
Y/N didn’t know what she was doing.
She couldn’t remember the last time she went on date. Things had changed a lot since she was active in the dating pool. Dates were no longer big events where you shaved every crevice of your body, went out and bought a new dress, spent hours doing your hair and make-up, where picked up at your house and greeted with flowers and taken to some fancy restaurant across town. No, dating now was going to a local bar for a drink or two with some guy you had matched with on some dating app.
Y/N felt her hands shake as she looked over her shoulder as the bell above the door rang. She was extremely early to her drink date, a whole half hour early to be exact. But the nerves had gotten the better of her, and she didn’t want to show up late. Now she sat looking completely out of place in this swanky bar on the east side of San Diego. It was far enough away that she knew it would be safe from anyone she knew catching glimpse of her.
It wasn’t that she felt guilty about being on date. . . well, she felt a little bit guilty. Jake hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet, but they were making way with setting up visitation days. Y/N was currently living in the house while Jake was staying in an on-base house. Y/N hadn’t even thought of getting out into the dating field, wanting to wait until the divorce was completely over, but Val had set her up with one of her co-workers and Y/N didn’t have the heart to say no. Who knows, maybe she was going to meet her second husband.
A small huff left her lips at even the thought of marrying another man. Having another man raise her kids. Having another man in her bed. Jake had been the one for her, and he’d always be the one for her, even if he broke her heart. She could entertain the notion of getting drinks with someone, but it wasn’t going to go much farther than this.
“Y/N?” A masculine voice called out to her. She lifted her head, “I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you.”
Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, reaching her hand out to greet him, “Nice to meet you, Miles.”
He was clad in a black dress pants and baby blue button up. The top buttons were undone, showing the faintest gold chain around his thick neck. He sat down on the barstool next to you, his scent of oranges and hospital drifting to you, making your nose scrunch. You hated oranges and the thick smell of hospital disinfectant.
“Sorry I’m late, got held up at the hospital,” Miles said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows looking at her watch. It was 7:01 and they agreed to meet at the bar at 7:00, “A minute late is hardly late.”
“In my book. . . it is,” He smiled, flagging down the waiter to order himself a drink and some appitizers, “I don’t like showing up on time, it feels like I’m late.”
“I’m the same way. I like to be atleast 10 minutes early to everything,” Y/N sighed, “But having kids, I’m lucky if I’m even 5 minutes early.”
“Val told me about your children,” Miles said, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered, “Three of them right?”
Y/N nodded her head, reaching for her phone. Her favorite thing about being a mom is getting to show off pictures of her kids. She showed Miles pictures of Alex when he first got his glasses, Ella winning her first soccer game, when Eli rolled over for the first time. Miles smiled along with her the whole time, asking questions about her kids; what they liked to do, what their favorite colors are, what their favorite bed time stories are.
“They look like they are some fun people,” Miles said, sipping his drink.
Y/N wasn’t sure what it was that snapped in her, but she suddenly felt embarrassed. Was she talking too muc about her kids? Did this guy even want kids? It wasn’t just her he would be getting if they ever decided to go past this one date, it was her and three kids. Three kids that had cried when their father moved his things out the door. Three kids that had been fighting and acting out more since the divorce process had started. Three kids that were waiting for her to come home.
“Hey?” Miles asked softly, putting his hand on her knee, “Did I lose ya?”
Y/N blinked a couple of times, plastering a fake smile on her face, “No,” She shook her head, “It’s just I-”
“Thinking about your kids?” Y/N nodded and Miles set his glass down on the bar, “Val told me this is your first time out since your divorce. . . It’s my first time out since my wife died and I. . .” Miles shook his head, “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong, meeting you here.”
Y/N’s heart broke a bit in her chest, seeing his sad brown eyes look at her. Val had mentioned that he was previously married, but she never disclosed the details on what happened. She shifted on her barstool, placing her hand on top of Miles’ giving it a squeeze.
“This doesn’t have to go very far tonight. . . If anything, I’m not ready to go very far tonight,” Y/N spoke honestly, “I’m still hurt and dealing with everything, but I could really use a friend?”
Miles nodded his head, turning his hand in Y/N’s so their fingers were intertwined, he squeezed her hand back, “I can use a friend too.”
The two of them stayed in the bar for only another hour, before going to find something to eat on the east side. Miles had picked out a local seafood place that he swore had the best fish tacos. The conversation flowed easily as they ate. They talked about everything under the sun; what he did for work at the hospital, Y/N’s plan to go back to work at the flower shop in a couple weeks, Miles’ most recent travel to Switzerland for a pediatric board conference, how Y/N finally got to visit the USS Midway museum. It truly did feel like Miles was the perfect friend for Y/N. He understood what it was like to lose someone you love, only difference was Jake wasn’t dead.
“I should really get back,” Y/N sighed as they walked down the sidewalk to where she parked her car, “I gotta trade off with the kids’ dad, he works early in the morning.”
“Don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Miles shrugged. He had been totally respectful when Y/N talked about everything with Jake. She didn’t go into full detail about it, mainly because the wounds were still so fresh. She still felt a pang in her heart when she walked through the front door and his boots weren’t there.
“I think we should do this again, I really enjoyed getting to be with another adult,” Y/N smiled and Miles returned it.
“I would love to,” Miles responded and opened Y/N’s car door, “Let me know when you get home, please.” Y/N nodded her head, “Good night, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Miles,” She whispered as she shut the door.
The whole drive home it felt like Y/N was in a cloud. Her feelings were a bit conflicted on what she felt towards Miles. He was a good guy, with a nice smile. He had a sense of humor and had made her laugh several times throughout the night. Y/N could tell he had manners from the times he pulled out her chair and switched sides on the sidewalk so he was near the street. But all those little things were also things that Jake had done. Jake always sat so he was facing the door, or in the isle. Jake always opened the door and walked next to the street. Jake always knew how to make Y/N laugh.
Y/N had just pulled into her driveway, Jake’s black truck parked in it’s normal spot when her phone dinged.
‘Valeria Bates: how was it!? Did you kiss!? Did you do more than kiss!?’
Y/N’s face paled. Was she supposed to kiss him? They had agreed to just be friends, for now, but what was supposed to happen on the next date? Y/N hadn’t ever kissed another man besides Jake. And she sure as hell hadn’t slept with another man. Even though Miles was attractive, the thought of him touching her the way Jake had made her feel queasy. She didn’t respond to Val, tucking her phone in her purse and heading towards the front door.
Quietly, she pushed the door open, coming face to face with Jake sitting alone on the couch, only the light of the television illuminating his face. When Y/N first asked Jake if he could watch the kids tonight, she hadn’t felt bad about it, but now, seeing him sitting there alone, she felt nothing but guilt.
“How was it?” Jake asked.
Y/N sighed as she took off her coat and hung it up, “It was good.”
Jake nodded his head and stood up from the couch, “Will there be another one?”
“Too soon to say,” Y/N mumbled and turned to face Jake, “How were the kids?”
“They were fine. Eli was a bit fussy but he’s got some teeth coming in,” Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and Y/N nodded.
“Well, You should probably get-”
“Don’t go on another date,” Jake said, cutting Y/N off, “Look, I know I fucked up. I know what I did is something that is unforgivable, and I beat myself up for it every day, but please. . . Please. . .” He walked towards her, and grabbed her hand in his, “Please.”
Y/N wasn’t sure what to do, as he stood before her, his green eyes with a tint of red to them.
“Goodnight, Jake,” Y/N muttered, squeezing his hand before moving towards the stairs to go check on the kids.
“I love you,” Jake whispered as Y/N’s frame disappeared down the hallway.
taglist: @damrlova @phoenix1388 @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @angelbabyange @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @malindacath @justenoughmadness @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch @hookslove1592
#top gun#top gun fan fic#top gun fan fiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fan fic#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun maverick imagine#Jake seresin#Jake seresin fan fic#Jake seresin fan fiction#Jake seresin imagine#Jake seresin x reader#Jake seresin x you#Jake seresin x y/n#Jake seresin x shy!wifey#Jake hangman seresin#hangman seresin#hangman#hangman fan fic#hangman fan fiction#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#opposites attract things!
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Hello again! It's Syd 🥰🩷
I sent an ask a few days ago but I just saw your post about sending more so here I am! (& good luck on your journey quitting vape, you got this!! 🩷)
Here's an idea:
(Could be with bob, nat, jake, roost, it's up to you really) Reader just got home from work and starts rambling about work gossip with her partner while getting undressed to take a shower. The partner stops paying attention to the story as she lifts her shirt and takes off her pants, ogling at the brand new set of lingerie they had never seen her wearing before.
Reader is busy walking around the room gathering her skin care products & pajamas while going off on a tangent about a particularly annoying coworker. Noticing her partner isn't responding, she playfully asks "are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?", finally turning to find her lover on the edge of the bed with a dreamy look on their slightly flushed face, reaching for her as they ask "is that a new set...?"
Could be just fluffy with a hint of suggestive or smutty😌 feel free to change it anyway you want it!
hello !!! thank you so much for sending this request in and I'm so sorry that it took me an unreasonable amount of time to post !!! but, my first Bob fic ! this just screamed Bob to me, I took some creative liberties but I hope I did your request justice!
focus / bob floyd x reader
word count: 1k (short and sweet!)
warnings: a little spicy at the end but otherwise pretty pg-13!
“Bob, you home?” you asked, shutting the front door behind you as you dropped your keys in the bowl and slipped out of your heels and coat. Excitement had been radiating throughout your body, threatening to rattle you apart from the inside out the entire drive home. You were sitting on a rather juicy piece of intel you’d been counting down the seconds to be able to share with your partner… the first and usually only person you told anything and everything.
“Bedroom, honey!” You heard him call out and you raced down the hallway, bursting into the room with sheer glee written all over your face. “Good day at work?” he asked, amusement creeping into his tone.
“No, not at all actually. Remember that case I’ve been working on I regretfully cannot tell you anything about? Client withheld something major and I spent the entirety of my day reworking the whole thing… after I’d just done that yesterday.”
“Then what has you so excited?” He watched as you took off your watch and earrings, delicately placing them in their respective homes atop your dresser. The book he’d been reading was abandoned the second he heard your voice echo throughout your shared home. If you were even remotely in his presence there was nothing else that could hold his focus, not that he would have wanted anything else to take precedence over you anyways.
“So, in the break room today I overheard something I definitely wasn’t supposed to, regarding a certain coworker and her husband.” you started, eyebrows raised as you watched the excitement on his face mirror your own as he shifted down the bed to listen with rapt attention.
“Please tell me this is about Denise,” he almost begged. This particular saga of workplace drama was a personal favorite of you two.
“Oh, is it ever. She was on the phone with her husband in very hushed tones arguing about the pick up and drop off schedule for their kids when she suddenly said ‘this has nothing to do with him’.” you continued, placing your blazer in the hamper.
“Him, as in the kids tutor, right?” he asked and you nodded.
“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “But the real pièce de résistance of this story is who made an impromptu stop by the office today… with flowers.” You’d already discarded your silk camisole and were sliding your favorite slacks off… a beautiful shade of emerald green fitted perfectly to your body before flaring out and creating the illusion your legs were a mile long. They weren’t just your favorite though, and you were completely unaware of the way Bob’s eyes tracked their movement down your curves into their puddle on the floor where you bent over to pick them up and he suddenly felt as if the room had gotten warmer.
“Is that so?” he asked, while his attention was hung on your every word a few moments ago, if you’d asked him any follow up questions on what you’d just said he’d have no response… he was far more interested in the black lace adorning your body, particularly in the fact that it was unrecognizable to him.
“Mmhm,” you hummed again, still blind to the way your boyfriend was looking at you as you moved around the room, lost in your after-work routine of shedding your work persona before your shower. “It’s as if she’s unaware of the fact that we all know, or maybe she is aware and just doesn’t care. It’s incredibly ballsy. You know, I actually like her husband, of course I know nothing of their home life and I know better than anyone the public façade can be polar opposite from the reality behind closed doors but he does seem like one of the good ones.” You’d paused for his response, expecting agreement or a snarky quip but when you were met with silence you turned around to find his eyes far lower than you anticipated. “Bob? Are you even listening to me?” you asked, pretending to be annoyed but really you were anything but as you saw the lovesick look on his face.
His head snapped up, eyes wide like a man caught, “sorry sweetheart, I just… is this a new set?” he asked, swallowing harshly as his hands reached out and caught your hips, tugging you to stand in between his legs. He was looking up at you with pure adoration, the kind that knocked all the air from your lungs and rendered you almost speechless. Your first meeting by chance at the Hard Deck all those months ago had done nothing to prepare you for the man before you… timid glances and bashful smiles, earnest conversation and a chaste kiss to your cheek after walking you to your car. There was nothing timid or bashful about him now, nothing chaste about the way his fingers trailed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his eyes raked your form, fire burning within those blue eyes.
“It might be,” you teased, moving to straddle his thighs and his arms were quick to cage themselves around you, locking you in place and keeping you from falling backwards.
“And you expect me to give a damn about Denise when you’re parading around this room looking like this?” he asked, pressing kisses along the column of your neck.
You gripped his jaw, pulling his face back and forcing him to look at you. “You’re damn right I do.” you shot back, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.
“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m afraid your beauty is a bit distracting.” he replied, pulling your hand away and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Besides… I think my attention would be better served elsewhere.” he added before continuing his path up your arm and to your collarbone where you couldn’t help but tilt your head back, a soft sigh falling from your lips.
“I think you might be right,” you agreed, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to press your lips to his. The previous topic was entirely forgotten now with your excitement channeled directly towards the man beneath you… the one person you wanted to share everything with and the one person who could make you gladly abandon anything and everything for.
taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you, sorry!)
#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd fan fiction#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd fan fiction#robert floyd fanfiction#bob floyd fluff#robert floyd fluff#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun
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The Chaos-Verse Mega Masterlist
A mega Chaos-Verse Masterlist.
Chronological Order Of Events For Both Series //
Summary: During a special detachment that brings Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin back to North Island—they both come face to face with the women in their lives who alternately make them better versions of themselves. Lieutenant Chaos Kazanksy and Lieutenant Commander Seresin.
***~***~***~
Chaos // Bradley Bradshaw x Best Friend!reader.
Summary: Being called back to TopGun should have been the number one thing on your mind. But Bradley Bradshaw sure made it hard to keep your priorities in check. He made it hard to do just about anything. Including but not limited to saying his life. (Season One Complete)
To Have & To Hold // Jake Seresin x Wife!reader.
Summary: Jake Hangman Seresin had been called a lot of things. But a good husband? Wasn’t one of those things. Being called back to TopGun has him trying all over again to win over the love of his life. His ex not yet divorced wife. You. Lieutenant Commander Y/n Seresin. (Complete)
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To Have & To Hold Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner @itsemohours @shawnsblue
Chaos Tags: @lyannaredbird @luckyladycreator2 @skagelynn @teacupdreams @the-winter-marvel33reblogs @mrsjaderogers @katieshook02 @thescarletknight2014 @justanothermagicalsara @4ngelicb4byy @percysaidnever @puriini @luckylexie @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @shrimping-for-all @fayethefairy @lonelywitchv2 @mizzzpink @unforgettwble @callmemana @lemoonandlestars @mulletmcghee @redqueeen99 @bucky-barmes @mak-32 @fivsecondsflat @loveless-simp @bradleysgirl @mintellaine @hannabritta @nemtodd-barnes1923 @xoxabs88xox @baju69 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @shanimallina87 @abaker74
#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin smut#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman x y/n#jake seresin x you#jake seresin#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw#bradleybradshaw#bradley x reader#mrs. bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun fandom#top gun fan fiction#topgun#top gun maverick x reader#top gun imagine
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🌹From @tomcruiseishot
“Good morning.” Ice began, clapping his hands together as he stepped up to the podium. Your eyes snapped up to his, listening intently as he rattled off details, instructions, tips, and tricks. Mav found himself focusing more on you than on the material he was supposed to be teaching. So much so, that he didn’t even notice when it was his turn to speak. The elbow in his side was what brought him out of his daydream. The pilot fought a blush at the realization that he had been staring at you.
Clearing his throat, he glanced between his notes and a random student as he spoke. A few of the cocky pilots in the audience snickered. They were silenced with one harsh glare from the blond instructor.
#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun maverick#tom iceman kazansky#jake hangman seresin#my asks#top gun 1986#Maverick#maverick movie#maverick x reader#top gun maverick fan fiction#iceman x maverick#maverick imagine#pete maverick mitchell#maverick smut#maverick top gun#maverick fanfic#maverick x you
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Updates
Hey guys :)
I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season :) :) I just wanted to give a little update:
Learning from the Best will be updated this coming week :) the chapter is 75% done :)
The next chapter of Mustang will be posted sometime after Learning from the Best :) it's about 50% done.
Due to popular demand, part two of Most of Freedom and of Pleasure will be made :)
I'm trying to get everything updated before I go back to school in mid january. I appreciate you guys' support, patience, and kind words <3 It means the world to me :)
@roosterforme @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @withahappyrefrain @entertainmentgirl80 @teacupsandtopgun @seresinhangmanjake @goldenseresinretriever @sailor-aviator @hello7442 @gigisimsonmars @yepyeahuhhuh @tess-lecter-blog@hookslove1592 @86laura11 @seresinsbrat @isabelstardis @shamelessghostwagonwobbler @emma8895eb @taytaylala12 @kmc1989 @h-ngm-ns @hangmans-wingman @marvel-hotchner @nemesis729 @a-lil-bit-nuts @justagirllivinginaghibliworld @mizzzpink @themusingofagothicsoul @potato-girl99981 @a-beaverhausen @callmemana@joalslibrary @peachiicherries @whiskeyswriting @jkbindigo11 @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @chaoticassidy @superskittles @cherrycola27 @cheekymcgrath @djs8891 @novastories@urmom-999 @zombicupcake3 @catsficrecs @abaker74 @kmc1989 @hangmanshoney @caidi-paris @i-wanna-be-your-muse @shara-ne @memeorydotcom @memoriesat30@shanimallina87 @whoeverineedtobe @slippinginto-theairwaves @dingochef @dreamlandcreations @eloquentdreamer @eli2447 @buckysteveloki-me
#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin smut#learning from the best#tgm#glen powell#top gun maverick#hangman smut#mustang#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun fanfiction
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