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anurst · 1 year

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Girl Bradshaw

Summary: Seeing your estranged brother and godfather so close and friendly, makes your insides churn. You lost Pete, the only father you've ever know, because of Bradley. So, why the hell were they acting as if Bradley hadn't hated him for the past nineteen years.

Pairing(s): Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F! Bradshaw! Reader

Warning(s): language, estranged family issues, reader's got daddy issues and brother issues, reader's got a set appearance but feel free to change it you want

A/n: I have the next couples chapters written out already and it could work as a non jake seresin x reader. I was wondering if that's something you'd all be interested in or if I should keep it as a jake seresin x reader

Part 3: All is said and well or is it?

"Bradley?"

The past two years of Bradley's life feel like taboo when he hears your voice call out to him. The fight you two had nineteen years ago comes flooding back to him and guilt pools in his stomach. Your young, crying face flashes in his mind.

The moment your eyes land on Pete behind Bradley, rage sets in. The only man who acted like a dad to you and then cut you off. The man who was the reason you lost your brother was standing six feet away from you.

"Braidy..." Pete whispers as your mouth runs dry. Silent, you look from Bradley to Pete and back to Bradley. He's so different from the teen you knew nineteen years ago. He's a man now. He's taller, his hair is darker, there's faint scars on his neck and face, and most of all, he looks like the spitting image of your dead dad. Looking at him makes you sick, and you force yourself to look at Pete.

Jake, uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere, comes up behind you and places his hand on the small of your back. His touch makes you jump and you grab his arm before twisting it. A pained cry escapes his mouth as the people around you move to help Jake. Realizing what you've done, you let Jake go and take a step away. Your breathing is uneasy and your body feels hot.

"What the hell!" a black man says as he comes to step in between you and Jake. You see more people start to close in and your body goes rigid.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm not good with touch- I really am sorry," you stutter. Jake is rubbing his shoulder blade and looks at you with worry and confusion, except you never look at him because your eyes are back on Bradley.

The rest of the dagger squad now have their eyes on you and Bradley. Natasha is the first one to make the connection. You and Bradley almost look the same. Your features are more feminine, but the similarities are undeniable. The only difference between the two of you is that your eyes are blue, a trait you inherit from Carole. Despite the difference in eye color, Pete's reaction to you proves a relationship between the three of you.

Also, your name is Braidy? Wow, Bradley and Braidy. Your parents were comedians. "Shaw!" a young voice calls out. All eyes turn to see a little blonde girl running towards you. As all your worries and problems fade away, a wide smile makes its way to your face. You crouch down and pick the little girl up.

"My girl!" The girl wraps her arms around your neck and she places her hands on your each side of your face.

"Daddy said to come save you," she mumbled before she buries her head into your neck. You chuckled before patting her back.

"I'm saved. Thank you."

"You have a kid?" Bradley asks, his eyes wide as he looks at the girl who's trying to hide from all the prying eyes. You brush him off before turning to Jake. You sigh again and a guilty and sorry look over comes your face.

"I really am sorry, Jake." Jake simply nods his head and you take a deep breath. "Who brought you here?" you ask Sarah as she plays with your hair.

"Eva." At the mention of the woman, you turn to look at the bar and see her watching you with Zack. Nodding at the two of them, your eyes go back to the girl.

"I'll take you home now. How about I read you a story and we can rewatch that disney movie you like." Sarah nods happily to your offer. You're about to leave when Pete calls out to you. Reluctantly turning your eyes to the older man, the sorry look he has on his face gives you a little satisfaction

"I-"

"Don't. Just don't. I don't care." Heartbreak spreads onto Pete's face at your words. Your heart aches at his face and the memories of the despair you felt when you realized that Pete abandoned you runs through you.

You quickly turn on your heel and start walking to Zack and Eva. Telling them the situation, Zack agrees and gives you the keys to his car. After, you make your way to your friends and tell them you're taking Sarah home. Bradley calls your name and you pray that he doesn't make a scene.

Your friends eyes watch with confusion as the your brother tries to plead you to talk with him. Jensen's the first one to act when he sees the tension in your shoulders. "Sorry, bud, but we've gotta get the little lass home. It's late, you know." Bradley dismiss him as he tries to get you to look at him but your eyes are stuck on the floor.

"Braidy, please. I'm sorry! Please look at me! Talk to me! I'm your brother!" You scoff in disbelief as you roll your eyes.

"My brother left me when I was fourteen. As far as I'm concerned, he might as well be dead cause I've been on my own since freshman year of high school." Sarah's small whimper makes you cradled her head as you calm yourself. "Look, we're gonna be working together. Just stay out of my way and leave me alone, Bradley."

Jensen puts a hand on your back and acts a wall to separate you and Bradley. When your brother tries to get closer to, Carlos and Ethan are quick to their feet to push him back, and Amy and Nolan are trying to stop the questioning eyes from watching any further.

When you make it to the parking lot, your shoulders feel lighter and the night air is calming. Sarah's head becomes heavier on your shoulder and you know that she's fallen asleep. You take the keys that Zack gave you and toss them to Jensen. You strap Sarah into her car seat and settle into the passenger's seat. The drive to the Ramsey residence is quiet and your mind is running at high speed.

When did Pete and Bradley make up?

Why hadn't they told you?

Why did Pete cut off all contact with with you after you told him about the argument between you and Bradley?

Why is it that Bradley is one that always gets a dad while you don't?

Jensen softly closes Sarah's bedroom door behind him as he runs a hand through his hair. After years in the raiders, his footsteps make no noise as he makes his way to the living room. He sees you leaning against the couch with your knees pulled to your chest and your head buried into your arms.

"(y/n)?" he asks softly. You don't move at all and he sighs before sitting down next to you. "You in there?" He bumps his shoulder with yours and you finally look up. Your eyes are blank and he frowns. He's seen this version of you, and he hates it. The last time he's seen you like this was after what happened in Russia.

Before he knows what he's doing, his hands are cradling your face. You let out a shaky breath and your eyebrow twitches as you try to stop yourself from crying. Jensen smiles softly as he brushes your hair out of your face. "There you are beautiful girl," Jensen mutters softly.

That's all it takes before you let your tears fall. You let Jensen pull you onto his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. By now, you're straddling his legs and you face is buried into the crook of his neck. "I hate him, Jensen..." you croak, your hiccups almost making it impossible for Jensen to understand what you're saying. The only thing he can do is rub your back and give you soft whispers of reassurance.

By the time you're done crying your heart out, your eyes are puffy and you feel exhausted. You've shifted from your previous position and decide to lean your head on Jensen's shoulder instead. The rattling of the doorknob sends you both into flight or fight mode and you both relax when Zack walks through the door, a tired and worried smile on his face.

"You feeling ok, (y/n)?" the blond asks you as he moves to set his things down. Silently nodding at him, you grab your things and let him press a gentle kiss to your forehead and thank both you and Jensen for taking Sarah home and staying. You wait by the door as Jensen and Zack exchange a couple words. You know they're talking about Bradley but don't have the energy to tell them to just leave it alone.

Once he's done, Jensen leads you out the door and is at the bottom of the stairs when you stop. You're standing at the top of the porch stairs and look down at him. He turns to you with a confused look and asks what's wrong. "I love you," you say, you eyes staring into his. His cheeks slightly flush as he chuckles.

"I know."

"I'm serious. You're my best friend."

'You're the only person who I really think of as my brother' is what you don't say out loud, but Jensen understands what you're trying to say.

"And you're mine," he replies.

Your eyes are still puffy when you wake up. The sun isn't even up when you rise from your bed. Grumbling, you shut off your alarm and begin to get ready for the day. A day you dreaded once you found out that Pete and Bradley were going to be a part of the team that your own was going to have to cooperate with for a mission.

Knocking at your door stops you from thinking any more about your family. Checking through the peephole, you see Jensen standing with a tray of two iced coffees in one hand and a bag in the other. Opening the door, you let him walk into your apartment.

"Brought you breakfast. Ice coffee and an everything bagel, toasted, with strawberry cream cheese." Smiling, you let him set everything up on the dinner table before sitting across from him. Silence fills the room as you both eat your own bagels. Jensen's the first one to break it. "You gonna be alright today?"

Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you nod. "Like you said, I'm gonna have to be ok with them being here.” Jensen frowns before throwing his trash out.

“Still. Maybe we get Nolan to talk to Chambers. Get them switch out or something.”

You shake your head, “They’re here and this mission is happening.” You wipe at your mouth again and grab your personal things. “Ready?” Jensen nods

You’re grateful that the pilots aren’t here when you and Jensen join your squad in the conference room. Ari enters and requests to speak to you in the hall for a minute. Your team gives you worried looks and you assure them it's ok.

"I heard what happened yesterday," Ari starts and you curse under your breath. "I need to know if you can work this mission." You sigh and look up at the taller man. Your frown causes him discomfort and it's visible in his furrowed eyebrows.

"I can and I will."

Ari purses his lips and runs a hand through his neat hair. "I knew. I knew that your brother was one of the pilots chosen for this assignment. I thought- that you two were on good terms, so I apologize for any problems that have come up." You chuckle softly at his words. Always prim and proper.

"It's not your fault, Chambers. You didn't know."

"I do know that the dagger squad has been stationed at Miramar for the past 2 years."

Miramar? Wait- that's

"45 minutes from here," you whisper and Ari frowns. Pete and Bradley have been 45 minutes from you for the past two years? What a sick joke.

"SOO Chambers?" Pete calls out from behind you and you're faced with the group of pilots from yesterday. Jake seems to light up a little when your eyes meet. Your heart skips a beat and you gulp.

"Captain Mitchell," Ari says, his voice void of any emotions. "Welcome to Camp Pendleton."

"Thank you." Pete's eyes are on you. You take a deep breath in and exhale before turning your head to Ari.

"I'll be inside." You're quick to walk inside and take your seat in between Ethan and Nolan.

"(y/n)?" Ethan asks, his voice soft. You give him a small smile and try to calm your anxiety. The door opens and you stare at your tangled hands that are resting on the table. Feet shuffle around the room and the pilots take their seats on the opposite side of the table, parallel from your team. There's a thick aura when everyone's seated.

Jensen's glaring daggers at Bradley, who keeps his gaze on you. Nolan's having his own staring contest with Pete. You raise your gaze to look at the person who's sitting opposite from you and you're glad that Jake's the one who you see. The dirty blond gives you a smirk and you feel the corners of you mouth start to turn up.

Ari clears his throat while he stands at the head of the table. All eyes turn to him and blinds start to shut while the lights dim. "This needs to end. This mission will not function with all the hostility. Meadows, Mitchell, keep your teams in line." The two men nod and Ari continues, "Your assignment. It's a warehouse that is suspected to be run by an international criminal group. Ghost team," your team perks up at the name. "You're assigned to infiltrate, recover, and asses. From our intel, there's a chance that there's confidential information stored in the warehouse that may reveal more information regarding the criminal group. From there, you'll asses the threat the this group poses and whatever action you deem necessary.”

"Chambers, I have to question the credibility of reconnaissance information," Nolan says and your team shifts uncomfortability. "We don't what a repeat of what took place in Russia."

Ari nods in agreement, "I've already taken precautions. Reconnaissance was conducted by elemental leader Bud Buck, who I know you're aquantanced with." Your team smiles at the mention of the older man.

"That's where he's been?" Amy laughs and Carlos grins.

"You know Buck. Man is made to be in the military and even more a spy," Carlos muses.

"Satisfying enough, Meadows?" Ari asks, keeping his professional demeanor. Nolan steals a quick glance to you and nods. "Now then, that leads us to the Dagger team. While this sounds like a job for raiders, I assure you your skills are necessary. Elemental leader Buck has done some geographical recon and the warehouse is surrounded by enemy missiles. In addition, there's an enemy base located south that's filled with enemy pilots. Your job is distraction and protection. You keep the skies busy and we'll take care of the groundwork. Any questions?"

You raised your hand and Ari nodded at you. "How does a international criminal group afford and set up missiles to guard their warehouse?"

"That relates to the information suspected to be held within the compound. Buck and his group have a theory that they may have serious funding from international government figures. Get the info, and we can trace where and how the money came from."

Sighing, you fell back into your seat as Ari continued to explain how your team would infiltrate and how the pilots would be proceed in order to not get your team caught up in their fighting.

"You'll ship out in 1 week. The weather will be at its best so it won't pose any trouble. With that, I wish you all good luck." Ari stood and respectively nodded to everyone before leaving.

A silence followed and no one moved. "My team is willing to call a truce, if you can put your own personal matters aside Captain Mitchell," Nolan says. He's standing tall, his back straight, his shoulders are square, and his face is tense. You've ever only seen him act like this once. After Russia, when your team was on the ropes and you could've lost everything that mattered to you.

"Of course, Meadows," Pete smiles. Nolan narrows his eyes.

"Good. My team has a scheduled training session right now, so if you'll excuse us." Your team let’s you be the first one to leave the room before following after. As you all make your way to the locker room, Amy holds you hand into the woman’s locker room.

"We'll all here for you," she whispers. You let her give you a tight hug before she moves to grab her stuff and change into her workout clothes. You do the same and bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood.

45 minutes. They've been 45 minutes away from you this whole time. You wondered if they ever thought about you while they having the time of their lives together. Anger filled you and you know one way to get it out. You have to hit something.

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#top gun reader insert #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin #pete mitchell

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killthewhisperingart · 5 months

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Sleep Tight

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 529

Summary: After a long separation, Bradley finds solace in your arms as you think back on your relationship.

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: First work! I do intend on making longer fics after this, but I wanted something short and sweet to get me out of my funk. My requests are open btw ;) just in case anybody had any ideas

His skin was so warm in comparison to yours. He had only just gotten home a few hours prior, and he wasted no time in shedding his clothes and crawling into bed with you. He was exhausted, his caramel locks all askew, and soft bags resting below his eyes. He was only supposed to be gone for two months, then it turned to three, then a full six months had passed since he had been home.

You were fine, keeping up with the house, making sure the Bronco got it’s oil change, everything was fine. But Bradley felt horrible for leaving you at home for so long. He always felt bad leaving you. Even after a six year relationship, he was crushed everytime he had to go. You learned to cope, but you wondered if he ever would.

He sighs softly, nuzzling his face against your chest, his arms tightening around you. You were a bit jealous that he falls asleep so quickly, and so deeply. Soft snores escape him, and you can’t help but run a hand through his hair.

The two of you are supposed to go to a barbecue tomorrow, and as you look down at him, you wonder if you’re ever going to make it. He had a habit of ‘hibernating’ for day or two when he comes back home. The only time he ever lets go of his Rooster persona, waking up much later than normal. He looks so scandalized everytime he wakes up half passed noon after a mission.

You look towards the window, the curtains pulled back, and the windows cracked to let some wind in. The central air conditioner had been broken for about a week, and you wanted to wait until Bradley got back home to have someone come look at it. This was a habit you’ve had since the early days of your relationship, when Bradley had found out that the maintenance man had been overcharging you for his services, and not your landlord.

The breeze blows against the curtains, and outside you can see the trees swaying softly as the sun slowly starts to set.

“We should get married,” You whisper softly, running your nails across his scalp. You said it so low, you barely heard it yourself, and you wonder if you ever even said it at all. You had been fantasizing about it for a while, maybe a year or two. But you knew just as much that Bradley wasn’t a wedding kind of guy. In the past, he had danced around the subject, avoiding it expertly, much to your chagrin.

You know that in the morning when you both finally rise and pull yourselves from your comfortable bed, the idea of marriage will still sit heavy on your shoulders. You know that eventually, you will need to have the conversation, a conversation that will either end in marriage or end in a breakup.

But for now, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you press a soft kiss to his forehead. You don't seem to mind all that much in the moment, as you are both in a bubble of love.

#writing #fanfiction #x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #reader insert #top gun reader insert

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petcr3 · 7 months

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something to rely on | chapter one

series masterlist (coming soon!)

summary: despite being separated, bob floyd is there to support his wife and their son after she sustains some injuries in a car accident.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: separation/divorce, reader is frequently referred to by she/her pronouns, is called bob's wife/ex-wife, mrs. floyd, etc. bob and reader have a son, but i have tried to be as inclusive as possible with regards to appearance and the type of family! (meaning, if i've done my job correctly, charlie can have been adopted, not necessarily carried by the reader, etc.) non-graphic reference to a car accident, non-graphic description of injuries. chapter one is set entirely in a hospital. readers parents are present in the story, still married, and have a good relationship with reader because this is fantasy lol

a/n: lads, it's here. some of you have been hearing me blather about this story for fucking ages and chapter one is finally done. i'm proud of it, i think, but if nothing else i simply cannot keep sitting on it, so here it is! very excited for this story's future <3 i hope you love charlie as much as i do lol

It’s a rare occasion that one hears Bob Floyd before seeing him, but you suppose your getting into a car accident is a special enough occasion.

Things feel hazy–– with two broken wrists and a broken leg, you’ve been given quite the painkiller. You’re not sure how long you’ve been awake, exactly, but it can’t have been very long. There’s a digital clock on a small table next to your hospital bed, but your neck is too sore to turn far enough over to see it. A thick wooden door is shut against the buzz of the floor outside: the ringing of phones, the click of computer keys, and the clatter of patients being wheeled to and from scans and tests and specialists.

Even amidst all that, the sound of Bob’s words cuts through. He’s raising his voice, you realize. That’s not like him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse says on the other side of the door, “but outside of visiting hours I can only admit family, and––”

“I am family,” he says, impatient.

“I understand that, but when a patient is separated––”

“Separated,” Bob interrupts, “not divorced. That is my wife and the mother of my child, so will you please let me see her?” It sounds much more like a demand than a question. The nurse sighs, clearly frustrated.

“Let me go speak to her.” She steps out from behind the counter and cuts Bob a severe look. “If she is awake, I’ll let her know you’re here. But given that rest is one of the most crucial things for her right now, I will not be waking her up. You can wait.”

“Thank you,” comes his clipped reply. The nurse approaches your room, only a few steps away from the front desk–– Bob would have just gone straight in, had he known— and when the door creaks open, he can be seen standing over her shoulder–– a respectful distance behind, at least.

“Ma’am, there’s someone here to see you,” she says. You can tell it’s taking everything Bob has not to run to you, but he’s smart enough to know that showing this nurse any more disrespect isn’t wise. “He says he’s your husband,” she continues, “but if you don’t want to see him, I can tell him to leave.”

“No, that’s okay,” you say, “he can come in.” She turns around only to discover Bob right behind her. He squeezes quickly past, murmuring a hurried thank you before practically flying to your bedside. All his frustration quickly dissipates as he leans over you, a deep furrow in his brow. Over his shoulder, you see the nurse shake her head, exasperated, and leave, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey honey,” Bob says, hand lifting to brush across your cheek, as if it’s two years ago and nothing has changed. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m okay, Bobby,” you reply, tired. You surprise yourself, though, using his old nickname like that. Since you two broke up, you’ve only ever called him Bob. “Someone lost control of their car in the rain, apparently. You owe that nurse an apology.”

“And I’ll give her one later. First I need to know that you’re okay.”

“I just said that I’m okay,” you laugh softly. “Bob, I’m fine.” Reluctantly, he nods, leaning back to grab at a chair. He won’t even stand all the way up, refuses to take his eyes off you lest you run off somewhere else to nearly get yourself killed.

“How’s Charlie; is he with your parents?” You nod, heart clenching at the thought of your son, how distressed he must be right now.

“Yeah,” you say, voice getting a little watery. “Yeah, I got to talk to him a little while ago. He wants to come visit after my surgery tomorrow.” Bob’s brow furrows.

“Surgery?”

“Just my left wrist. The right one and the leg only need braces, but,” you sigh, “yeah, the left one took the door pretty hard, so.” He nods.

“How about your head? All okay up there, no bleeding?”

“I have a concussion, but that’s all. They know what they’re doing here, Bob. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be just fine.” He studies you for a moment, then sighs, nodding his head again. “Not so fun being on the other side of it, huh?” you say without thinking. It isn’t meant to be cutting, but blue eyes snap up to your face, a faint expression of shock on Bob’s features.

Still, you have a hard time feeling too guilty. How many times have the roles been reversed? How many times have you held your baby boy to your chest murmuring reassurances that you can’t promise are true? How many times has Bob been gone, unable to tell you he was okay or even alive? Or looked up at you under the harsh white light of a hospital room on base and told you there was nothing to worry about when you both knew that there was?

Bob schools his expression into something a little softer and gives a curt nod. You can’t decide if that was over the line. But that had always been the problem, hadn’t it?

Neither of you had known how easy it would be to push each other over their limits. You’d thought love and a thick skin would be enough to survive the looming fear of losing your husband. Bob had thought it would be easier to outrun the guilt he always felt leaving you behind, the way it weighed on his chest like an anvil. Eventually, your wounds were rubbed raw and his ribs began to crack beneath the pressure.

The times when he was home were supposed to be precious, but they had become tense, uncomfortable. It wasn’t good for either of you, and it certainly wasn’t good for three-year-old Charlie. Splitting up had been the best choice, even though it pained you both to admit it.

Bob had been adamant about a separation rather than a divorce. Ex-spouses of the military were still entitled to some benefits, but for Charlie’s sake and yours he wanted to remain legally married. You’d both agreed that if you met other people and got serious enough, a divorce would be back on the table. It hadn’t been the easiest decision, but now, laying in a hospital bed, you can’t help but feel grateful. And how many people can say their ex husband came rushing to their side in an emergency?

Regret is already creeping up across your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, reaching to touch the back of his hand. Your fingers brush awkwardly against his skin where they protrude from your brace, but you can see the gesture means something to him–– his eyes shine a little sadly when he looks at you. He gives a faint shake of his head.

“S’okay. Me too.”

Despite your best efforts to persuade him otherwise, Bob stays the night in your room, sleeping with his legs slung across a second chair the nurses had been kind enough to provide for him. (He’d apologized to the nurse he spoke to when he arrived, and she’d taken it rather graciously, all things considered. In her place, you’re pretty sure you would have had him thrown out.) You fall asleep fairly easily, exhaustion having taken its toll, but you wake up in the wee hours needing the bathroom. You press the call button, hoping it won’t wake your sleeping companion, but Bob rouses when Jermaine, one of the nurses, comes in. The whole bathroom song and dance is a process you certainly don’t enjoy, but you’ve gotten used to it over the past several hours.

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Jermaine quips, walking to your bedside.

“I keep guzzling water when he’s not looking,” you say, nodding towards a still groggy Bob. Jermaine only laughs and pulls back the covers.

“All right, ready?”

“Yep.” You grimace as he braces his hands beneath your armpits to help lift you up enough to get into your wheelchair. You sigh as Jermaine rolls you to the bathroom and braces an arm around your waist to help you onto the toilet. The door stands open, but you’re too drained to care–– besides, this isn’t anyone’s first rodeo.

You don’t see the way Bob’s eyes widen with worry. How he watches each maneuver carefully, filing it away in the back of his mind. The decision had been made before he walked through the door, really, but seeing you struggle only cements it. He doesn’t say anything as Jermaine helps you back to bed–– only a quiet thank you as the nurse leaves the room. He can talk to you about his plan tomorrow.

A low murmur of voices filters into your consciousness as you wake that morning, your eyes flickering open to see Bob standing with Dr. Alvarado, who will be performing your surgery. She notices you shifting in your bed and comes to your side, Bob following suit on the opposite, returning to his seat.

“Good morning, Mrs. Floyd,” she says warmly, “how are we feeling?” Your mouth is dry and you swallow thickly before responding.

“I’ve been better,” you rasp, wincing at the scrape of your voice. Bob is holding out a cup of water before you even have a moment to think, and you start to reach for it before faltering. In the fog of waking up, you’d almost forgotten.

“I’ve got it,” he says quietly, bringing it to your lips. You drink, far too worn out to protest.

“Your procedure is scheduled for 12:30 this afternoon. It’s about 8:15 right now. That’ll give you some time to rest before pre-op. I’ve also been told you have a special visitor, if you feel up for it.” Your heart lifts, and you can’t help but look expectantly up at Bob.

“Charlie?”

The hopeful lilt of your voice splinters something in his heart. He smiles, tight-lipped but genuine all the same, and nods.

“Uh-huh. I know you said the plan was post surgery, but your mom called saying they were up and ready to go. I figured you’d want to see him.”

“Yeah,” you say, voice high and thin, “yeah I’d like that.” Dr. Alvarado smiles.

“I’ll let them know. They’re all very anxious to see you.” You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks. Ordinarily, you try not to let Charlie see you crying. With the separation, you’ve been doing everything you can to be his rock. You remember how scary it was when you were a child to see your parents upset, or worse, hurt. But today, you don’t know if you’ll quite be able to manage it. Gracelessly, you swipe at the tears on your cheeks, but before long, Bob is at the ready again, tissue box extended toward you. You nod your thanks and clasp one in between your fingers. Blotting is much easier.

You’ve just about gotten it together when the door opens again.

“Mommy?” Charlie calls, and you hate how you can hear the frightened tremble of his voice. He makes it a few steps over the door jamb when he sees Bob.

“Daddy!” For a heartbreaking moment, wide eyes dart between the both of you, unsure of where to run.

“Go say hi to Daddy, sweetheart,” you say, heart swelling to see the reunion. Charlie beams and runs directly into Bob’s arms.

“Hey, big man!” he says, scooping Charlie off the ground in a strong embrace. “I missed you so much, little bear.” He presses a big kiss to your son’s cheek and is rewarded with a delighted giggle that has you crying again. Hurriedly, you dab at your eyes once more.

Your parents enter the room behind Charlie, your mother’s smile wavering and your dad’s brow furrowed. The braces make hugs awkward, but your parents’ presence is an enormous comfort.

“Charlie’s been very brave,” your father informs you. “And we’re all very glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you say wetly, wishing you could hold their hands. “I love you guys.”

You cast a glance over to your left, where Bob and Charlie are engaged in conversation, faces close together and voices hushed. Watching Bob parent has always made your heart ache, even now when things have fallen apart. He was meant to be a father, plain and simple. People who don’t know him might expect a Navy man to be gruff, tough on a child, especially a son. But Bob is all gentleness when it comes to your Charlie. He is patient and invested and even though you two aren’t together, it’s difficult to imagine parenting Charlie with anyone else.

You tear your gaze away to talk with your parents, explaining what happened and asking about how Charlie has been coping over the course of the last few hours.

A few feet away, Bob has his son cradled close in his arms.

“I was really scared,” Charlie confides in him, “but I gotta be brave for Momma.” Bob’s heart breaks just a little, and he smooths a hand over Charlie’s hair. Perhaps this instinct to protect is just built into the little boy– knowing you and Bob, that’s a distinct possibility. But Bob can’t help but worry it’s a result of the split.

“You don’t have to be brave for Momma, honey,” he says softly. “That’s our job. Parents get to be strong for their kids, not the other way around. It’s okay to be scared when someone is hurt. And it’s also okay to express that. Especially with me and Mommy. And being strong doesn’t mean you can’t feel your feelings. In fact, being able to feel your feelings is a part of what makes a person strong, because some feelings are really hard.” Charlie listens to his father with rapt attention–– he always has. “But it’s important not to ignore them. Does that make sense?” He nods sagely when Bob is done talking.

Bob can’t help but smile, heart swelling with affection. It’s moments like these when he thinks he could leave it all if it meant getting to spend every second of every day with his baby boy.

“Should we go say hi?” he asks, bouncing Charlie gently against his hip. Charlie nods, his gaze flickering over to you.

Though you’re talking with your parents, you can’t take your eyes off of your son. Call it selfish, but ever since you’d been able to think straight you’ve wanted nothing more than to see him. You’re reaching out for him the second Bob starts towards you, but he gives you a look.

“With your leg?” he asks quietly, even though Charlie is right there in his arms.

“I still got one good one,” you quip,” and I think a hug is gonna help me get better much quicker. Besides, all my problems are below the knee— I’ll be fine.”

Bob has always had trouble saying no to you.

“Be gentle, okay bud?” Charlie nods.

Carefully, he sets Charlie down in your lap, positioning him mostly on your uninjured right leg.

“Hi baby,” you beam, the pain you’re in practically forgotten. “I’m so happy to see you!” Charlie snuggles immediately into your chest, eyes impossibly big when they look up at you. Tucking him under your arm is awkward, but you do it anyway.

“Hi Mommy,” he says quietly, like he’s afraid talking too loudly will hurt you.

“Hi,” you say again, matching his hushed voice, smile wider than it’s been for the duration of your stay. Bob stands slightly off to the side, feeling a little bit like an intruder. Still, he can’t help but watch the way your eyes sparkle when you look at your son. He’s never seen anything like it.

A gentle hand on his shoulder catches his attention, and he turns to see your mother, her expression warm. He counts himself incredibly lucky that your parents don’t hate him. Sometimes he hates himself for what happened, and yet they still treat him like one of their own. The three of them exchange hushed greetings, each thanking one another for taking care of the two of you.

Over in your hospital bed, you’re playing with the ends of Charlie’s hair. He’s been telling you about everything that happened between yesterday afternoon and now, cheerily informing you of how much he cried and how he got to choose what he and your parents had for dinner last night. You drink in every detail with enthusiasm, grateful as ever for his enormous heart and his resilience.

“I was really scared,” he says softly after a moment. You nod.

“I bet. I was scared too.”

“Daddy says it’s okay to be scared.”

“Daddy’s right, baby. It’s more than okay to be scared. It’s important— it’s how our brains keep us safe.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. You know how I’m scared of snakes?” Charlie nods. “Well, not every single snake is dangerous, right? But there are some that are. And because my brain remembers that some snakes are dangerous, I get a little scared when I see them. That fear is my brain telling me to be careful and stay safe.”

“So I was scared because it’d be dangerous if you got hurt?”

“Kind of! It can also be scary to not know what’s happening, right? Because if you don’t know what’s happening, it’s hard to get ready to deal with it. And it can be scary to know that something sad might happen, because it’s hard to feel sad.”

“I don’t like feeling sad,” Charlie says, nodding his understanding.

“Me neither, baby bear. But today I’m not even sad, because you’re here.” Your son’s cheeks turn pink and he hides your face in his chest. Heart swelling with fondness, you cross your arms over his back in an awkward embrace and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Is it okay if I’m a little sad?” he asks, voice muffled by your hospital gown.

“Of course it is, sweetheart. You gotta feel your feelings. And feelings don’t last forever; they change all the time, right?”

“Right.”

Out of sight, Bob swipes a few tears from his eyes. He’s always proud of Charlie, but he’s proud of you, too–– with three limbs freshly out of working order, you would be well within your rights to be out of sorts, but there you sit, still parenting admirably. Beautifully, even. Your father squeezes Bob’s shoulder and he looks up, almost a little startled. Your father smiles and the two men exchange a nod.

Your mother steps over to your bed and pets a hand over Charlie’s hair.

“I think me and Grandpa are gonna go home for a little while, honey,” she says to him before looking at you and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Someone gave us a good scare yesterday and I don’t think either of us slept very well. We’re both a little worn out.” Suddenly, she seems to catch herself. “Unless you want us to stick around and––”

You shake your head and reach out an appreciative hand to cover hers.

“Go get some rest, Ma.” She nods.

“We will. But we’ll be back when you come out of surgery. Bobby told us he’d keep us updated.” Too tired to even think that far ahead, you nod.

“Thanks for looking after Charlie,” you say, tangling your fingertips with hers.

“Well, that’s my pleasure,” she says, pressing a loud kiss to her grandson’s cheek. “And we can figure out next steps, we’ll find someone—“

“Mom,” you say softly, “let's just— can we take things one step at a time for now?” She nods–– the anxiety of it all reads clear on your face.

“You know, you’re right. Let’s get you through surgery first.” You nod, grateful. “We’ll see you soon, then.” Your mother smiles and turns to get her bag. Charlie giggles as his grandfather comes over to playfully jostle his shoulders.

“Be good for your mom and dad, okay kiddo?” Charlie nods eagerly.

“That’s my guy,” your dad says fondly, giving your son a hug before turning his attention to you. “You give ‘em hell in there.”

“What,” you laugh, “in surgery? Dad, it’s just my wrist; I’m gonna be fine.” He shrugs.

“Can’t hurt though, right?” he says lightly, but you can see a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes. He leans down to kiss your cheek and you return the gesture.

“Right,” you affirm, softening. “I love you, Dad. I’m gonna be okay.” Your dad gives a final nod and links arms with your mother as they leave the room.

It’s so easy to forget that to him— to both your parents— you are still a child. Charlie is still so young, it feels impossible that he’ll ever be as old as you are now. Of course, you still marvel at the fact that he’s as big as he is; that he can walk and talk and do math equations and paint pictures. But it’s easier to manage how much he’s grown because you can still bundle him up in your arms and count on one hand how many birthdays he’s had. Maybe if you were having less of an emotional day, you’d be able to imagine what it’ll be like when he’s grown up, but you can feel tears welling up in your eyes again so you push the thought out of your mind.

“Mommy?” Charlie asks, bringing your attention back into the present.

“Mm?”

“Did Grandpa use a bad word because he’s very stressed?” Laughter sputters out of you before you can help it, and Bob raises an amused eyebrow.

“Yeah, baby,” you say, “I don’t think he was thinking very hard about which words he was choosing. He just meant that he wants my surgery to go well, that’s all.”

“It’s like telling someone to give it their all,” Bob explains, coming to sit down at your bedside again.

“It’s what Daddy does when he’s on a deployment,” you offer, curling your arm into something akin to a flexed muscle, “he gives ‘em heck.”

“And that’s what Momma’s body is gonna do when she’s in surgery. It’s gonna do everything it needs to do to keep her safe while she’s asleep.” Charlie looks between you two, worry creeping back into his features at the mention of the surgery.

“Hey,” you murmur, “I’m going to be okay, Charlie-bear. I promise. Sometimes things can go wrong during a surgery, but the likelihood of anything bad happening is very, very low.” Charlie nods, wide-eyed. “So there isn’t anything to worry about sweetheart. But it’s still okay to be scared, right?”

“Right,” comes his hushed reply. Your heart aches not to be able to soothe his anxiety, but you know there’s no sense in trying to talk him out of it–– especially in the wake of what you’ve been trying to teach him. Still, it seems to you that the rules shouldn’t apply to Charlie, with his delicate soul and enormous heart.

Bob lays a comforting hand on your son’s back and his little form immediately relaxes into the touch. The three of you sit in comfortable silence for a little while, but soon the door creaks open and Jermaine enters with a wheelchair.

“Is this Charlie?” he asks brightly.

“It is!” you chirp. The boy in question looks up shyly. “Charlie, this is my friend Jermaine. He’s been helping me since I got to the hospital.”

“Your mom is a tough lady,” Jermaine says warmly, squatting to be closer to Charlie’s eye level. “I promise we’re gonna take very good care of her.” Charlie nods.

“Pinkie promise?” he asks, heartbreakingly earnest. Jermaine smiles.

“You got yourself a deal.” He locks his pinkie with Charlie’s and stands up. “I’ve gotta take Mom for a couple of tests before her procedure, and then we’re gonna take her off to surgery. But you’ll get to see her in a few hours when she wakes up, okay champ?” Charlie holds on to you a little tighter and peers up at his dad, who nods encouragingly.

“Okay.”

“Mom is very lucky to have people that care about her so much,” Jermaine says. “You should be proud.” A little divot of determination forms between Charlie’s brows and he nods. Bob starts to stand and Charlie clambers around to give you one last hug.

“I love you Mommy,” he says. You squeeze him as tightly as you can and press a big kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too, baby bear. I’m gonna see you so soon, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, a heartbreaking waver in his voice. You give him another kiss before Bob scoops him up again, and before you know it, Jermaine is wheeling you off into the hospital halls.

Back in your room, Bob has Charlie wrapped up in a tight embrace.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby bear,” he coos, “everything’s gonna be okay.”

#something to rely on #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun reader insert #bob floyd reader insert #bob floyd x you #quinn writes #petcr3 writes #my writing #bruh im sweating #lewis pullman x reader #robert floyd x reader #ok fuck it we ball

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make-me-imagine · 2 years

Text

Home To Me

Prompts: 'People keep assuming you are a couple, this causes one of you to finally confess their feelings.' + "All I've ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere I could call home. And you gave me that. Because you are my home." Requested By: @blondehaze22

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x GN!Reader *reader's call sign is Mirage

Warnings: A kiss, but that's all

Words: 2k

A/n: This fic was stolen and reposted as 'His Home' by the user @/Alana-haigh - so please do not like or reblog their stolen fic, this is the original <3

Jake smirked as you laughed beside him, teasing Coyote for missing his pool trick shot once again.

"That's two." Jake reminded Coyote. Each trick shot missed, is a drink paid for by Coyote.

"Shhh let me focus." Coyote hissed

You lightly smacked Jake's chest "Yeah, shhh. He needs all the help he can get."

Jake grinned down at you, as his arm draped across your shoulder. As Coyote missed yet again, you groaned and Jake lifted his hand "Three!"

Coyote let out a groan as he set down his pool cue "I give up."

Jake laughed as he squeezed your shoulder before turning away and calling out "Penny, three drinks on Coyote!"

As he got to the bar, he was met by a obviously drunk older navy officer, who gently punched Jake's arm. "That's a sweet one you got over there!" He slurred, pointed back over to you.

Jake followed his line of sight and smirked, knowing where this was going. "Thanks." He said softly as he and Penny met eyes and smiled knowingly.

"I had me a partner just like them when I was your age, damned if I hadn't screwed that up." He grumbled as he shook his head.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jake said as he took the drinks from Penny before turning away, wanting to avoid more of that conversation.

His eyes landed on you as he watched you tease and laugh with Coyote. He smiled, as he thought back to about a year ago, the first time you came into the Hard Deck.

"Penny, this is Y/n! A.k.a Mirage! Newest member of the Top Gun program." His tone held a hint of pride as he introduced you.

Shaking your hand Penny leaned on the bar, "That's a good call sign, how'd you get it?"

Before you could speak, Jake broke in "Because by the time you see them, they're already gone, like they weren't even there to begin with."

You rolled your eyes lightly "He's proud of that, because he came up with it."

"Yeah, and you love it!" He defended as he leaned against you, arms pressed together.

Penny smiled as she watched the two of you. It was rare Jake so easily boasted about another pilot. Let alone seemed to close to one.

"I didn't know you were dating anyone Seresin, it's good to see."

You and Jake shared a look before you chuckled under your breath. Jake shook his head "Common mistake. Actually we're not dating, we've just known each other for a long time."

"Too long really." You commented playfully.

He rolled his eyes as Penny chuckled "Best friends then, got it. How does Coyote feel about that?"

"He's coming to terms with it." You commented jokingly.

As he set the drinks down beside Coyote, he watched the two of you argue about the next game to play. He smiled to himself as he watched.

You were his best friend, and so was Coyote. But, there was more to his relationship with you. Or at least, he wanted there to be. Something he had only recently started to realize.

--- --- ---

As you walked briskly across the compound, you were startled as one of the pilots came jogging past, slowing down as he got in front of you.

Spinning towards you he grinned as he jogged in place "Hey Mirage, did you hear your boyfriend just broke a course record!"

You smiled, not surprised by the fact. You called out casually as you continued to walk away. "He's not my boyfriend, but I'll make sure to kiss his ass for you T-Bone!"

As you walked away, you took in a breath. Sometimes when people assumed you and Jake were dating, it made you laugh, or even feel a bit giddy. But sometimes, like now, it just made your chest ache a little. Sometimes the thought was too good to be true.

Behind you, you were unaware that T-Bone was now jogging up to Jake, as he made his way from the hangars.

"Hey Hangman, congratulations on your new record."

"Thanks." Jake said casually, his eyes locked on you in the distance, disappointed he missed you.

"So," T-Bone began, "Is it true that you and Mirage aren't dating? 'Cause I seriously thought you were a thing."

Jake looked over at him, he didn't like the look on his face. "No, we're not dating. Why does it matter." He felt odd saying you weren't dating. It was the truth, but for some reason, it felt like a lie when he said it out loud.

T-Bone shrugged while trying to hold back a grin "Well, I just wanted to make sure man, before I make my move."

Jake stopped and turned to him "Make your move?"

"Yeah, I been wanting to for a while, but I didn't obviously, 'cause I thought you and them were a thing ya' know? But since you're not, what's stopping me?"

"Yeah...what's stopping you." Jake said softly, trying to push down the clear jealousy and anger that was rising in his chest.

T-Bone gently punched Jake in the shoulder with a smirk before jogging off, leaving Jake watching him with an uneasy glare.

Surely you wouldn't say yes to a date with T-Bone. Jake shook his head, but couldn't get rid of the anxious weight that sat in his chest at the thought.

That anxiety only built throughout the day as Jake kept thinking of you and T-Bone going out. It seemed like such a ridiculous thought, but it still bothered him.

What really hit him though, was when he spotted you and T-Bone across the base, later that day. You were walking and talking, and what looked like, smiling. He felt his chest tighten as jealousy took over.

Finally fed up with his own inner turmoil, he decided to find out for sure what was going on. Not just between you and T-bone, but between you and Jake. Was there a chance that you felt the same as he did? If there was a chance for the two of you, he would need to take it.

So, when the sun began to set, Jake walked out to the beach, waiting for you. You almost always went on a walk in the evening, so he knew this would be his chance to get you alone.

Spotting you in the distance, as you walked back towards the base, towards him, he felt his heart start hammering in his chest. But as you spotted him, and a smile spread across your face, he felt a fond familiar warmth wash over him.

"What's up Jake?" You asked as you reached him.

"Just wanted to see you, haven't been able to since this morning."

You smiled "Are you saying you missed me?" You half-joked.

He smirked at you as he motioned his head towards a nearby bench "You could say that. But, I also wanted to ask you about something."

You sat on the bench beside him and rose your brow "What's that?"

Jake laid his arm across the back of the bench as he faced you "T-Bone."

He saw a small hint of a smile cross your face "What about him?"

Jake closed his eyes briefly "He told me he was going to ask you out, since he found out we weren't actually a thing."

You nodded your head "Yeah, he did ask me out."

Jake watched you for a moment "And?"

"And I said no." You chuckled "He's a good guy, for the most part, but I'm definitely not interested."

Jake nodded, repressing a smile. The anxiety and jealousy seemed to fade almost instantly. "How'd he find out we weren't a couple?" He asked casually.

You sighed a little "It was a passing comment after he called you my boyfriend." Jake nodded his head, but stayed quiet as he stared out at the beach. "Why?" You added on, noticing he seemed to be distant.

Jake looked back at you, his eyes were darting around your face, as he seemed to be thinking of what to say, before a soft, barely noticeable smile crossed his face.

"It's odd to admit, but, I'm so used to everyone assuming that we are dating, that sometimes I forget we actually aren't."

You smiled softly as you looked down at you hands. Your ears and neck were burning, and your heart was racing.

You nodded your head "Yeah, yeah I've done the same thing." Looking back up at him, his smile was a bit bigger.

He tilted his head a bit as you felt his hand gently touch your shoulder. His voice was soft, not teasing, or serious, just genuine "So why aren't we?"

You felt our breath catch for a moment as your heart palpitated. "Why aren't we....dating?" You asked softly, clearly caught off guard. Jake just nodded softly. "Oh, well, I, you-" you let out a soft breath, obviously bewildered "You don't like me like that, do you? I mean, you can't just date someone because you are close."

Jake could tell as you spoke that what he said effected you, more than he was expecting. For the first time, he felt hopeful.

"But we aren't just close, are we? Ever since we met, we got along like we were two sides to the same coin. And no matter what paths we took, we always ended up together again. My choices were all made because all I've ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere to call home. And you gave me that. Because you are my home. Whenever or wherever we are, as long as you are there with me, I'm home. Because you, Y/n, are home to me."

You had never heard Jake talk like this. You had seem every side to him, but he only opened himself up a certain amount, never all the way, unless you dragged it out of him. So him opening up this way because he wanted too, felt almost overwhelming. So much so, you didn't realize you had stopped breathing until you took in a sharp breath.

"Jake." His name came out a whisper, one you barely even heard.

"I love you Y/n, hell, I know you know that. But I think, a while ago, something changed. I don't just love you Y/n, I'm in love with you."

Jake could see you were clearly surprised, in awe, or shock. Your eyes were misty as your mouth sat agape. He watched as you finally took a breath and swallowed before shaking your head a bit.

"I honestly thought you would never see me like that Jake." You almost laughed "All this time, after the same thing happened to me, I just...dealt with it, because I was afraid I'd ruin our friendship."

Jake let out a soft breath "So you feel it too?"

You nodded and smiled "Of course, how could I not?"

Jake grinned as he lifted his hand, gently touching the side of your face, almost timidly. "It just makes sense doesn't it. Us?"

You nodded your head softly "Like it was supposed to happen."

He nodded as well "I thought I'd have such a hard time telling you, but the second I started to talk, it was easy. I think, part of me knew you felt the same, I was just afraid, like you said, of ruining our friendship."

"Too bad we didn't figure it out a bit earlier though huh?" You said softly with a laugh.

Jake chuckled "Yeah. But we know now, that's what matters." Caressing your face again, he gently brought his thumb to your lips, gently brushing over them. His eyes grazed over your lips as he did so, his heart beginning to pound.

You watched with baited breath and pounding heart, as Jake slowly leaned towards you, hooking his fingers under your chin as he tilted you face to meet his.

As your lips met, you expected fireworks, or electricity coursing through you. But what you felt was warmth, gentle familiarity, like finally coming home.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf

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an-unknown-writers-world · 1 year

Text

Birdstrike

Summary: Hangman comes home to his on-again-off-again partner after Coyote’s G-Lock and Phoenix and Bob’s bird strike induced punch out.

Warnings: Angsty AF(sorry), with a fluffy cheeeeeesy ending - singular use of y/n

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Characters: Mentions of Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Rooster, and Maverick

Word Count: 1372

A/N: This is angsty with the cheesiest ending – sorry not sorry

“Jake,” You called out, hearing the door close, “Babe, is that you?”

“Yeah, doll. It’s me.” You could hear the defeat and exhaustion in his voice.

“I’m in the kitchen.”

He didn’t speak again, but you could tell by the heavy footsteps that he was headed toward you.

You weren’t expecting to see him tonight. Since his first round at Top Gun, you had been in an on-again-off-again relationship with Jake Seresin. The moment he stepped into The Hard Deck all those years ago, you knew it was all over for you. You fell in love with him. You weren’t delusional; he was a naval aviator- he wouldn’t be around long, but that wasn’t going to stop you from falling in love with him.

Jake would still visit a few times a year when he was on leave; he’d even asked you to come to his family’s ranch in Texas a few times. But you weren’t in any kind of serious relationship.

Strong hands wrapped around your waist as you stood in front of the kitchen sink. He kissed the top of your head before leaning to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Everything okay?” You asked, turning the kitchen sink off.

Jake was never this needy when he first came home. Well, not unless something horrible happened. Considering his job, it was always a possibility. But you also knew that there were many times that he couldn’t tell you what was going on.

“Just a long day,” He murmured. “And all I wanted when it was over was to see you.”

“Want me to order dinner, and you can tell me about it?” You turned in his arms to face him.

He nodded, “I think I’d like that.”

“Your usual?”

“Please.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m gonna go shower while we wait.”

You stretched up on your tiptoes and kissed him. His rough, calloused hands found their way under the hem of your shirt as he pulled you impossibly closer and deepened the kiss. That man could kiss you breathless in two seconds flat, and he enjoyed every moment of it. You broke the kiss only when the need for air became too much to ignore.

“Go shower,” You smirked. “If you don’t go now, dinner is never getting ordered.”

He laughed, kissing you chastely. “Yes, ma’am.”

########

You had agreed not to talk about the heaviness of the day until after you were both done eating and could devote all your attention to him. His phone had gone off a handful of times, all Dagger Squad members seeming to check in? It was hard to tell, but you started reading between the lines when Bradley texted you to ensure that Jake was with you and not home alone.

“Babe, I hate to ask this. But does your bad day have anything to do with the reason Bradley just texted me to make sure you weren’t alone?”

“Yes,” He let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know if I should be worried or impressed that he has your number.”

“All of Dagger Squad does.” You chuckled. “How do you think I keep track of you when you’re not here?”

“Valid point.” He turned and laid his back across the couch, his head on your lap.

“Talk to me, babe,” You ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes closed at the contact.

“I almost lost Coyote today.” He spoke softly. “He was in G-lock.”

Your heart sank. Javy was Jake’s best friend and wingman. They were practically inseparable from when they first arrived on North Island as Top Gun cadets.

When he opened his eyes, he had a thousand-yard stare, “Then Phoenix and Bob had to punch out because of birdstrike.” He continued.

“Oh, babe,” you cooed.

“This was all within minutes of each other.” He continued. “I had to sit in the Ready Room and listen to Maverick call it out over the radio. Over and over, he called out Coyote’s name just to try and pull Javy out of it.” He let out a deep breath, “He almost wasn’t in time.”

“But he was,” you reminded him.

“But what if he hadn’t been?” He questioned. “What if Phoenix or Bob weren’t able to eject in time? It’s happened before. That’s how Rooster’s dad died.”

You had heard the story of how Rooster’s dad died, as well as a few other pilots in the Top Gun program. It was heartbreaking, and every day that everyone came home was a day you were extra thankful for.

“Jake,” You spoke softly, cradling the side of his face. He turned into it and kissed the palm of your hand. “You can’t let yourself live in that thought process. Accidents happen, and you can’t keep reliving those moments. But you can keep the people you care about the most close to you and remind them every day how much you care.”

He was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that most people never experienced this side of him- the kind, caring, actual human side. A part of you always hoped he would share it with the rest of the world, but that wasn’t likely to happen.

“I guess I don’t do a good job at that,” He spoke so softly you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear.

“Vulnerability is courageous in its own way,” You encouraged, moving your hand to rest on his chest.

He chuckled softly. “And dangerous.”

“At times,” you nodded, smiling at him.

He reached out and grabbed your hand in his. He intertwined your fingers and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “You know that I love you, right?”

You were shocked by the concern evident in his expression, as if you may actually doubt his feelings for you.

“Jacob Seresin, I question many things in the world; but the fact that you love me is certainly not one of them.” The smile that stretched across his face could have lit up the night sky.

“After this mission, I have no idea where they’ll send me next.”

“It won’t matter. You always find your way back here.” You squeezed his hand softly.

“What if we didn’t have to worry about it?”

You looked at him with a scrunched forehead. There was no way this man was considering leaving the Navy, so what on earth could he mean.

“What if you and I never had to worry about where I was stationed. You could come with me.”

“Jake, the only way that would happen is if we were married.” You pointed out the obvious.

“I know,” He looked down at your intertwined hands. The man, confident in everything he does, finally came across a situation that made him nervous.

“Oh,” You let out a heavy breath, completely caught off guard by the direction of the conversation.

“I always knew that this was what I wanted, to marry you.” He spoke again, “I honestly thought I’d ask in a different way. Probably at the beach or back at home on the ranch. But I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now.”

You already knew the answer to his unasked question. It was always going to be yes. “You haven’t asked me a question, Jake.”

He laughed and rolled off the couch before kneeling in front of you. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Will you (y/f/n) (y/l/n) marry me?” The tone in his voice and the smile on his face were more confident than a moment ago. He knew the answer. You would haven’t have pushed him to ask the question if you were going to say no.

A giggle escaped your lips as you nodded your head, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissed him.

He pulled back, still smiling down at you. “You haven’t answered my question.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling, as he turned your statement around on you.

“Yes, a million times, yes.”

He smiled, thrilled with your answer and satisfied he could turn your sarcastic response back on you. He closed the distance between the two of you and kissed you breathlessly.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

The year is 1986. The air is heavy with the smell of burnt kerosene and sweat. And the San Diego sun is hot, but the fighter jocks are hotter.

Maverick swears he’s been here before. Falling, spinning, losing control. Only this time he’s not in the cockpit. This time, he’s with you.

And all you want to do is live a little.

Tailspin: A Top Gun Love Story

Maverick x Reader

Now complete! Read it here:

Wattpad, AO3, FF

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jungle-angel · 2 years

Note

Reader is a reclusive solo pilot that is based at TOPGUN since she graduated. She had made a name for herself and the crew knows of her and her abilities, but the crew does not know her personally. She is weary to socialize with the crew as her chain of command is so strict about discipline and talking when necessary that any wispier that the reader spoke without their direct questioning and minor (sometimes non-existent) mistakes will result in her getting screamed at and/or corrected through cruel disciplinary physical fitness (she was once ordered to run 300 laps around the compound). Anyway, she's on a solo mission when the crew is on a break. She's out numbered, but she manages to take all but one down. The last one manages to shoot her engine, but she is taught to value the mission more than the safety and life, so she ejects once she gains enough control of her pane to gain altitude to kamikaze her plane into the enemy. Back at base, the control room is panicking and yelling for her to bail and eject and the crew hears. Some of her more hardcore higher ups (who was taking care of other duties) hear it, too. The crew is worried, the higher ups goes to yell at the control center for the suggestion and the reader to not bail and finish the mission. Once she gets back, her higher ups ream her for bailing (even though she competed the mission), and the crew defend her, even though they barely know her (the reader is touched because no one stood up for her before). Sorry that this is so long!

Gurl say no more, no request is too long or too short so don't worry your head over it. If you're ok with it too, the reader's call-sign is "Ladybird" 😎😎😎😎😎

Maverick and the others watched the screen in the recovery bay on board the USS Ronald Reagan, tracking Ladybird's every move on the screen. Why she had ever flown solo was a mystery to everybody else, but not really to them.

Outside of the gang, Ladybird hardly ever talked to anybody. With Maverick and the others, they knew that she worked her bag-ass off, often getting a tad bit flustered when something went wrong or a mistake had been made. Hangman had thought it a bit odd, even off putting at times, but one day something had happened that finally had them putting two and two together.

It had been a bright and sunny afternoon after a practice run when the team had come back, finding Ladybird on the tarmac with Turner Haywood, the entitled Annapolis graduate who pulled the rank card almost every chance he got in order to get his way, lording his position and rank over everyone and everything at Top Gun. Maverick, Rooster and Hangman didn't even need to hear her speak to tell something was wrong. The pained look on her face said it all.....as did the nasty, prideful look on Haywood's face.

"C'mon Bird," Maverick muttered. "Just push in a little bit more...."

All of them watched the screen carefully, their eyes never once leaving the image of Ladybird's plane. They tensed when she finally dropped the bomb, the red dot expanding as the plane left the field of impact, seemingly unscathed.

"Oh shit!" Hangman blurted out.

Two red dots had appeared on the screen.....bandits in the air.

Phoenix gasped as her hands shot to her face. Bob stood right up from the bed where he had been laying and Rooster rose from his place as a pang of fear burst inside him. But suddenly......

"What.....the......fuck?" Hangman breathed.

None of them could believe what they were seeing. They watched as the plane flew straight into the enemy line....right within sight of the carrier.

"Oh God no sweetheart!" Maverick gasped.

A loud crack, almost like thunder was heard outside, the team rushing through the halls and pushing past others who were running out to the deck. Up, up and up they went to the deck, the fireball in the air slowly dissipating when much to their relief appeared a parachute and the faint outline of a figure drifting slowly towards the ocean with the blazing sunset behind her.

"MAN OVERBOARD!!!!" Rooster shouted.

Everyone on the carrier rushed to help, tossing Ladybird a line to which she eagerly grabbed, still in her gear and flight suit. Her face was red, terror-struck and shocked with what had just transpired.

Up and up to the deck they hauled her, like a bedraggled fish choking on air. Maverick was the first to catch her, right in his arms as he held her the same way he had done for Amelia when she was little.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Yeah....." Bird stammered. "Yeah, yeah I'm ok.....I'm ok."

She wasn't.....but she was. Soaking wet and shaking with the cold, Ladybird reached a shaky hand for Rooster who put his arms around her next. Pretty soon, the entire team had her in a giant, relieved group hug that she didn't want to get out of.

"Hey! Hey!" shouted a familiar voice.

All of them turned around and sure enough there he was, Mr. Arrogant himself, Turner Haywood, marching between Cyclone and Warlock. Ladybird gasped, choking on a big gulp of air that stung going into her chest and lungs.

"You've really fucked up now!" he shouted. "Insubordination, destruction of property and jeopardizing a mission.....boy do I have your ass for life (y/ln)!"

"Fuck yourself Haywood!" Hangman retorted, grabbing the son of a bitch by the crisp, clean collar of his shirt. "You wanna know the difference between a good soldier and a bad one? Well here you go......the good one is right there with the rest of us. And oh, by the way, you just hung a vacancy sign on your ass and my foot's looking for a room."

Haywood went a little bit wide eyed as two other officers came and grabbed him, escorting him right down to the Admiral's office but not before Hangman managed to stick his rather large middle finger in the air.

In their relief, the group lifted Ladybird right onto their shoulders, chanting her name, rooting for her as though it had never happened before. For the first time in forever, she felt free, like she could fly.....and for once, felt as though she was where she truly belonged.

#top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #reader insert #top gun reader insert

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niobe-loreley · 1 year

Text

Smells Like Halloween Spirit [tg:m]

Dagger Squad + Reader

Belated Happy Halloween!! Gaaah, I'm so late! Hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick, its characters, or plot. I do not own the pictures of the cast. I only own the reader's character/nickname, the fic's banner, and the story of this one-shot.

pictures credit to @fanboygarcia

warnings: the word count. haunted hospital. spooky. reader nickname. platonic reader. slight bobnix. organized ghost hunting. paranormal evidence. comedy if you eat halloween candy while reading.

wordcount: 5k You/Reader = Burton

SUMMARY: you invited the Dagger Squad to hunt for ghosts at an abandoned hospital. They only agreed because you threatened to go there by yourself; plus, you have an awesome paranormal hunting game plan, it’ll be a shame not to test it out. But you know some of them are already regretting their decisions after seeing the spooky building. Especially Fanboy, since he gets to venture alone (lucky him).

20:15

"Do we really have to do this?"

Inquisitive, quivering words from a non-spooky person. You finish putting batteries in your flashlight and look over to them with a wolfish grin. "C'mon, Fanboy, where's your Halloween spirit?" you quip merrily.

"It left when I pulled the shortest straw," he snaps, arms crossed.

“I told you we can switch.” you say.

“Yeah, but they won’t let you.” Fanboy shoots daggers at Rooster and Hangman. He huffs as he playfully bumps you with his hip, “And as if I’ll really let you go in there alone, Burton. No matter how much you like creepy stuff.”

You playfully pinch his cheek. “Oh, you’re so sweet, Micks!” you coo and shove him away, “Now, the game plan!”

Since the teams/pairs have already been established, you begin the briefing of the assigned roles and location, as well as a few reminders.

“Everyone knows and understand their roles and locations?" you inquire.

They give you a scattered response, so you viciously bark at them— "Hey, I asked a question!"

"Yes, ma'am!!!"

"Good.. now, listen well to these reminders."

While everyone keeps their eyes and brains open, Bob jots down your crucial reminders in ghost hunting.

“Always wear your face mask and gloves on. It’s an abandoned hospital, we don’t want any microbes or tetanus now, don’t we?”

“Keep comms on. As much as I want to capture paranormal sounds, it is imperative we contact each other every 5 minutes. But the Getaway Squad will contact us every 12 minutes.”

“Have your baseball bats at the ready at all times. But please be certain before you swing, or else we’ll send each other to the hospital.”

“The Getaway Squad is our foundation. As soon as they call for help, we all go.”

“If any one of the paired teams needs help, inform Maverick or Coyote immediately so they can contact the other squads assigned to them.”

“Got it?" you regard each of them, "Answer me or I'll force you all to go alone in there— yes, even the Getaway Squad."

"Understood, ma'am!!!"

The Investigator squads soon bid their goodbyes to the Getaway duo. Firing up your phone, you begin recording as you excitedly lead them into the hospital. Cautiously stepping through the broken glass doors, you halt at the middle of the lobby and turn to your friends. "Welcome, one and all, to an abandoned hospital!" you exclaim, listening to your voice bounce around the first floor.

Fritz, Halo, Omaha, and Payback choruses a whoop; Rooster, Yale, Harvard, Bob, and Phoenix applauds; Hangman whistles like he's in a soccer game; while Fanboy crosses his arms and grumbles.

"Okay, this is the meetup point." you gesture to the darkness around you, which is briefly illuminated by your headlamp. You then point to a map on wall, directing your phone camera as well. "There are still coherent maps around if your squad gets lost. So, to those in charge of your squad's comms, make sure to always let your location be known during the 5-minute and 12-minute check-ins."

"This is the most organized ghost hunting ever," Phoenix comments, amazed.

You curtsy. "Best be prepared for anything. Plus, no matter how organized it is.. if any of us sees something paranormal, panic will spread like COVID-19."

Everyone regards Fanboy in unison. "Why the hell are you all looking at me?" he yells, frowning.

You laugh. "Even though we might not stay calm in those situations, I would still advise everyone to stay calm. Is that clear?"

"Crystal!!"

"Okay, let's do a short pop quiz to calm our nerves!"

"Pop quizzes irritate me," Fanboy remarks.

"Then stick with that feeling when you're ghost hunting later!" you beam, "Better to be vexed than frightened!— Now, first question.. what's the appearance of the camera person in a squad?"

Bob's hand shoots up. "They're wearing a headlamp, carrying an extra flashlight, and holding the camera all throughout the investigation!"

"Correct!" you give him a thumbs-up, "Second question.. why do we need to separate into teams?"

Halo answers this time. "So that we can explore every nook and cranny while having each other's backs!"

"Nice!— Third, why do we need baseball bats?"

Surprisingly, Hangman is the one to answer next. "To whack the shit out of any ghosts or hobos who threaten our safety."

You and everyone else stare at him in deadpan. He stares back confusedly, saying that he's right.

"In short, for protection." Rooster chimes in.

"Title of your sex tape," Hangman scoffs.

"Thank you, gentlemen." you interject before a royal rumble can start and ruin the paranormal investigation.

The pop quiz continues for another five minutes. You then turn the camera around while the group stands behind you. "We'll be starting our Halloween ghost hunting!" you announce enthusiastically, "Hands in!"

All of you huddle up and place your hands together in the center. "One.. two.. three— GO DAGGERS!"

"Meetup back here in one hour!" you remind, leading your teammates and the other teams to the stairwell.

"Why's it gotta be an hour?" Fanboy cries.

"C'mon, Fanboy, we'll stay with you until the entrance to the East wing." Bob claps him on the shoulder.

"Will you switch with me?"

"No." says Phoenix.

"Aww, worried for your boyfie—" Fanboy croaks in pain after receiving a punch to the gut.

"Say one more thing and we'll take your flashlights."

5th Floor | 21:03

"See you three on the other side!" Fritz waves as he and Halo enter the 4th floor.

"Be careful!" you call and proceed up the staircase.

"So many stairs," Rooster groans.

"How much candy did you eat to still have that energy, Burton?" Hangman asks, huffing and puffing.

You chuckle. "That's between me and my stomach."

Soon, the three of you reach the 5th floor. Hangman offers to push the door open when it only budges two inches. But you tell him it's better for Rooster to help you since Hangman is their safety officer / weapon carrier.

"Shall we start on the rooftop? That way we'll just be exploring the 5th floor for the rest of the hour." you suggest, taking a gander around the blackness.

Rooster shrugs. "Why n—?"

He's cut off by a sudden sound.

With how quiet the abandoned hospital is, a rattling from somewhere in the floor appears as though it's right next to them. "What the fuck was that?!" Rooster whispers, wildly looking around.

"Backs against each other!" you instruct, and the guys oblige.

"Sounds like it came from there," Hangman tips his flashlight towards the west wing.

"Where? Let's move our circle around so I can get it on camera," you start sidestepping, Rooster and Hangman follows suit.

"It's probably just the wind," says Hangman.

"The wind?" Rooster glances at him incredulously.

"Or a rat," you add, zooming the video to the end of the hall, where the flashlight of both your headlamp and phone barely reaches.

"A rat? I thought you believed in ghosts?" Rooster questions shakily.

"Yeah, I do, but I'm a logical believer." you're now zooming in at doorways, trying to capture anything moving (or peeking). "We have to think realistic when ghost hunting, not just believe that every clink or clank is a ghost, doy!"

Hangman snickers. "Scared, Rooster?"

Rooster scoffs. "You wish, bitch."

You swivel around to face them. "Can you two try that one more time but with a British accent and pretend your flashlights are wands?"

"Or maybe you know a spell to make Bradshaw less scared?" Hangman quips, whirling the baseball bat around.

"Why don't you just kiss him?" you retort.

"I thought you're on my side." Hangman frowns.

"I'd rather side with the ghosts." you sashay away to the map on the wall next to the reception desk. "C'mon, the stairs to the roof are straight across here."

You round the reception desk and enter the main corridor dividing the west and east wing; Rooster and Hangman swiftly strides at each of your sides. There's a low groan that attracts your attention back to the reception desk. Looking over your shoulder, you point the camera and notice the stairwell door is halfway closed— when you and Rooster pushed it all the way open earlier.

4th Floor | 21:08

Coats of blackness are periodically vanquished by Fritz's flickering headlamp. He and Halo have ceased their venture to try and fix the device, they're in a lounge area at the east wing.

"No way Burton didn't put fresh batteries in that," says Halo.

"Then, what? I'm being haunted?" Fritz makes ghostly sounds, snorting.

She frowns. "I'm just saying.. it's unlikely the headlamp is broken or has old batteries."

The pair were walking in every room that's open, looking around for any paranormal signs, Fritz aggressively asking the ghosts to show themselves, before moving to the next room. It was after the ninth room they've been in when his headlamp starts acting up.

Fritz is sitting on a single couch with his phone propped against a vase on the coffee table. While Halo is standing between the table and a sofa as she’d rather not have her back turned to the darkness.

"This should do it," Fritz murmurs, taking the batteries out and putting them back in.

"Ingenious.."

"Thanks," says Fritz.

"What?" Halo blinks at him.

He chuckles. "It's only the two of us, Halo. Don't be embarrassed about complimenting me."

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

"You just said ingenious."

She furrows her brows. "I wasn't saying anything until you said thanks out of the blue."

Fritz and Halo share an astounded look, everything going quieter and darker than it already is, until he doubles over with laughter. "Nice try, angel." he snorts, securing the headlamp shut, he slips it on his head and powers it up. "Vióla!"

“Don’t point it at me,” Halo turns away, eyes squinting until they widen abruptly. She swivels and directs her flashlight to where was looking, “Who’s there?! Seresin, I swear to God..!”

Fritz jumps to his feet. “What? What?!”

Halo gulps. “I thought I saw somebody in that room.. same height as Hangman.” and bobs her chin towards the room adjacent to the lounge. “But it was too shadowy…”

“It’s just your shadow,” Fritz sighs exasperatedly, grabbing his phone.

“How could it be my shadow when I’m right here and there’s no mirror to reflect it over there?!” Halo snaps, pointing from the wall behind her to the room across.

Fritz feels his scalp sweating. “Fair point. But I’m not checking that out— have you watched Wrong Turn? And if there’s some insane, experimented freak as tall as Hangman, I ain’t confronting it.”

Halo rolls her eyes. “Would you rather we still go around the floor not knowing if there’s something in that room or not?”

“Well, I’m certain there’s nothing in that room.”

“You just said that there may be a cannibal in there.”

“And if there was, I ain’t walking into its trap.”

“You fucking— shit! Fritz! There it is! Quick, the camera!”

3rd floor | 21:10

Team 4 / The 3rd Floor Squad are either somewhat enjoying their time or trying to preoccupy their thoughts instead of thinking that something lurks in the dark besides their shadows.

Payback frequently hits the doorframes of every room they pass with the baseball bat. Sometimes, he’d even pretend to kick down an imaginary door and yell— “FBI” —while pointing the bat into the room as though it’s a gun. Meanwhile, Omaha is narrating everything he’s recording on his phone, down to the last rusted doorknob. He would also turn the camera to him and Payback from time to time, telling any “ghosts” to take a selfie with them before he snaps a photo.

“Have you had any.. paranormal shit happen to you?” Payback inquires, glancing over his shoulder.

“A few when I was young. But they were only told to me by my family, I don’t really remember them.” Omaha shrugs, “So I don’t really believe them. How about you?”

Payback sighs. “None,” and raps the bat on a closed door thrice. “That’s why I’m excited to see some ghosts tonight. Burton sure knows how to make Halloween more fun.”

Omaha nods in agreement. “Burton is the go-to when it comes to spooky stuff.”

“I hope this becomes an annual event for the squad.”

“Fanboy would disagree.”

The pair roars out laughing in unison, slightly drowning a knock, which Omaha somewhat catches. “Hey, what was that?” he stops laughing, pointing his camera to the closed room they passed. “I heard a knock over there.”

“That was me earlier, dude.” Payback says in between laughs.

“No, we were laughing and there was a knock.”

“Ooh~ somebody finally answered my knocks!”

Omaha brusquely shushes him, steps up to the door, and brings up his fist to slowly knock twice. The sound bleeds into the room and echoes around the hallway hauntingly. Payback shakes his head, looks around, and can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched.

“Hello?” Omaha calls, glancing at Payback.

[“Hey, you guysssss!”]

“Jesus—!” Omaha jumps back like a cat dumped with water.

[“What’s the situation on the 3rd floor? Over.”] Coyote’s normal voice crackles through the transceiver in Payback’s hand.

Omaha snarls. “Fuck you, Machado!” and stomps back to Payback.

Payback snickers, pressing the ‘talk’ button on the device. “Nothing much.. but you just scared the living shit out of Omaha. Over.”

[“Whoops. Sorry, didn’t mean to. Over.”]

“Yeah, you better be sorry!” Omaha snatches the transceiver, “I thought a ghost or some shit responded when I said hello!— Over!”

Coyote laughs. ["Are you mad because you didn't hear a response? Or because you thought you heard one? Over."]

"Neither! Over!"

"Anyway," Payback snatches the transceiver back, "We're at the.. west wing, finishing up on Room 3-A11 to 3-A20 corridor. Over."

["Copy that. Stay frosty. Over and out."]

"It's still 21:14.. what do we do when we sweep the whole floor and still have time left?" Omaha asks, eyeing the closed door sideways.

"Weren't you listening? Burton said to find a place on the floor that we think is the creepiest and attempt contact there," Payback says and pockets the transceiver.

"Oh, right, right.."

"Let's hussle."

When Payback and Omaha are out of earshot, scratches can be heard from behind the closed door of Room 3-A17. Two soft knocks follow, along with a gentle response in the voice of a little boy.

2nd Floor | 21:21

"I can't believe you're still Team Christopher!"

"I can't believe you won't respect my ship!"

"That's because you said Luke doesn't deserve Lorelai!"

"And I still stand by it!"

Harvard shortly lets out an exasperated yell. While roaming around the 2nd floor's east wing, Yale and Harvard have made a silent agreement to chat in order to think about anything else other than walking around a haunted hospital. TV show after TV show they exchange titles and plots, and even comment on a show that they both have watched.

It's a great bonding experience, if they're being honest.

However, a difference in opinion regarding Gilmore Girls couples has induced a heated kerfuffle.

Their team has yet to encounter anything paranormal. It’s possible the ghosts were disturbed and decided to move to a different floor. Yale likes to encourage that thought to ignore the occasional chill enveloping the back of his neck. Harvard, on the other hand, thinks there’s a cobweb on his shoulder whenever he feels a little weight on it before brushing it off.

In the back of both men’s minds, a terrifying thought remains: what if the ghosts on this floor decide to bother them since they loudly invaded their premises?

With such an oppressive notion, it’s hard for Harvard and Yale to contemplate that their minds may be playing tricks on them. Or that it’s just them feeling such spectral stirrings.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Yale scoffs out of the blue, puffing his chest out, he takes a gander with his phone. “And I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”

Harvard heaves a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Mind over matter, pleb.”

“You’re scum.”

“You’re a joke.”

“Says the jester.”

“You fucking—!”

“....”

Yale cuts himself off, sharing a wide-eyed look with Harvard, he pans the camera around. “Did you fucking hear that?!” he whispers panickedly.

Harvard gulps. “It sounded like it was behind you.”

“Bitch, don’t say that!” Yale shrieks, blanching from head to toe. “Let’s stand back-to-back!”

They press their backs against each other, eyeing every direction for any threat. Harvard adjusts the angle-head flashlight hooked on his jean pocket and hoists the baseball bat up. Yale tries to hold his phone still and picks up debris from the ground, ready to yeet it at anything that may pop up in their faces.

“Burton, if you’re pranking us, please stop!” Yale laughs shakily.

“She would never.” Harvard shakes his head, “It’s probably either Hangman or Fritz.”

“Show yourselves, pussies!”

“Can you elaborate that it’s our friends who are the pussies and not the ghosts?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts, okay?!”

“And if there are, my friend over here is insulting our friends not you!”

“Sshhh..”

Harvard glares at Yale over his shoulder. “Don’t shush me, bro!”

“That,” Yale is trembling, “That wasn’t me, bro.”

1st Floor, West Wing | 21:30

“Did you hear that?”

Phoenix turns away from the room she’s inspecting. “Yeah.. probably just the dipshits jumping at their shadows.” she smirks, inclining her head sideways. “I’m surprised you’re cool, calm, and collected.”

“Burton and I actually bond over paranormal things,” says Bob sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah.. you two were watching those top 5 ghosts caught on camera videos a few days ago.”

“Yeah, we were.”

“You know most of those are fake, right?”

“Of course.. but it’s entertaining and creepy, which— as Burton would say— is a fun combination for a good time.”

Phoenix laughs and nods approvingly. “Definitely her ingredients for a nice cup of tea.”

The pair have been meticulously traversing the west wing of the 1st floor, scanning every room from ceiling to wall to floor. Phoenix is a skeptic to the paranormal, more concerned about real people rather than the apparitions of dead ones. While Bob shows concern for both. People have dubbed him as a scaredy-cat for how “soft” he is for a man, which Phoenix scoffs at and tells them that he can watch the Saw movies while eating spaghetti without his eyes leaving the screen.

He and Burton are extraordinary beings, Phoenix respects the two of them equally in and out of fighter jets. As she pans her phone around the darkness, she can’t help but think she’d be lying if she said this isn’t the best time to spend Halloween. Organizedly hunting for ghosts with friends absolutely captures the spooky season’s essence.

“Hey, Phoenix—”

“Pretty bird…”

She swivels around, scrutinizing the corridor they just walked out of. “What was that? Was that you?” she questions, synapses firing fear to her every nerve at the sudden voice that was neither from her nor her partner. She composes herself with a quiet breath in and out.

“No, it wasn’t me.” Bob shakes his head, taking a gander, he raises the baseball bat.

“Hello?” Phoenix calls out, strong yet wary. “Anyone there?”

There’s no answer.

“Maybe it’s just the wind,” she suggests.

Bob gulps. “It’s possible.”

The pair restarts their gait, moving cautiously now, until they halt outside the morgue. Phoenix peers in, the blackness recedes from the light of her headlamp and phone, and she takes two steps in.

“Careful,” Bob says, entering sideways, he keeps his back to the wall and glances out of the corridor.

“Ugh! Smell that?” Phoenix coughs, “The facemask is not helping at all.”

“Do you think there’s still dead bodies in there?” Bob nods toward the mortuary fridges.

Phoenix jabs him on the shoulder. “Why would you think that, doofus?” she sighs exasperatedly, “But to answer your question, no.. this smell is not of a decomposed body. I know because my sister is a mortician.”

“There's probably a dead animal in here. Let’s go,” Bob gently grabs her elbow, leading her out of the room.

Three steps out, they cease as a humming from inside the morgue freezes their spines.

1st Floor, East Wing | 21:33

“Yeahhh~ I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road. I’m gonna.. riiiide ‘til I can’t no more~”

Fanboy continues to sing as he marches around the pool area. His cautious footfalls ricochet around the empty vicinity, like slow, rhythmic clapping. He shortly tightens his grip on the baseball, relaxing after a deep breath in and out, he adjusts his phone on the breastpocket of his jacket. It’s as though he’s fated to explore the haunted hospital on his own, wearing a jacket with too many pockets enough to attach ten angle-head flashlights (but he only has one on the right breastpocket since he’s already wearing a headlamp).

The east wing of the 1st floor isn’t as noisy as Fanboy. Sure, there’s the occasional gust of late October wind, inducing scraping and rattling noises, and the momentary groan of the old building. Other than those, nothing has bothered him, and he has bothered nothing.

No doors swinging on their own.

No whispers in the wind.

No shadows leaping away from the light.

No—

Footsteps behind him.

Fanboy quickly spins around, ready to swing. “Who’s there?!” he demands when he finds no one. “Hello!?”

[“Fanboy, this is Bob. Do you read me? Over.”]

“Fuck,” he flinches at the transceiver crackling and fishes it out of his jean pocket. “Fanboy here, I read you Bob. Over.”

[“Where are you?” Over.]

“At the pool.. but on my way out since I’ve already circled it.”

[“You didn’t check the locker rooms?”]

“No way I’m going in there, Jose.”

Bob laughs. [“Okay, okay.. we’ve got something mind-blowing, Fanboy. You probably won’t believe this, but we heard someone humming in the morgue. Over.”]

“Are you sure it wasn’t the wind? Over.”

[“No, it definitely wasn’t—”]

[“..Hmmm…”]

Phoenix’s gasp shoots out of the transceiver. [“There it is again!”]

[“Did you hear that, Fanboy? Over.”] Bob asks.

“Guys, please, this was supposed to be a check-in. Not a prank! Over!” Fanboy shouts, hastening his pace to the doors.

[“It’s not a prank. Over.”] says Phoenix.

“Whatever—”

Fanboy freezes from opening the door, and once he hears it again, he slowly turns back to the pool area, where footsteps are echoing from. “H-Hello?” he sputters, trying to illuminate every inch of the premises at once, still he finds no one but himself and the darkness.

Hushed footsteps respond to his call, then soon they become rapid, as though the owner is running. And when the footsteps become louder, Fanboy realizes it’s coming nearer— heading right for him.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Parking Lot | 21:36

With nothing else to do, other than contacting the ghost hunters every 12 minutes, and nothing else to discuss.. Coyote invites Maverick to play a mobile game with him.

He offers to the older naval aviator the infamous Two-Player Games. The app consists of a variety of games from sports, board games, and children’s games— but make it all virtual.

Coyote regrets challenging their most-favorite instructor.. because Maverick has won every round. And he owes him a week’s worth of drinks at the Hard Deck.

They have just finished a game of tag, wherein Maverick has held the crown the longest. “How are you beating me?” Coyote is stupidly, exasperatedly baffled.

Maverick lifts a shoulder. “Apparently, instincts can age like fine wine.. kind of like me.”

“Wow, poetic.” Coyote remarks flatly, but he can’t hold being monotonous for long and shares a laugh with Maverick.

The haunted hospital’s parking lot is pitch black if it weren’t for the cloudless sky that freely lets the moon highlight the darkened parts of the Earth. The getaway squad hasn’t experienced anything paranormal, probably because music is slightly blaring from the car’s radio. They decide to let the car run after the first 12-minute check-in— obviously, for emergency purposes.

Not because they thought they spotted a black-eyed child wandering behind the treeline.

A trick of the moonlight and probably just a wild animal, as Maverick reassures.

“Team 2, check-in. Over.” Coyote lifts his finger off the button.

[“Team 2, checking in. We’re near the morgue. Over.”]

“Thanks, Bob.” Coyote pauses, “Fanboy, check-in. Over.”

Fanboy screams through the device. [“COYOTE! HELP!”]

The getaway squad exchange looks. “Fanboy, what’s happening?” Coyote asks puzzled, “Are you okay? Over.”

[“SOMETHING’S FUCKING CHASING ME!”]

[“Fanboy, where are you? Phoenix and I will meet up with you. Over.”] Bob chimes in.

[“I don’t know— I don’t fucking know! Shit!”]

“We should help him,” Coyote begins gathering his things.

“Wait, we can’t leave our post.” says Maverick.

“But—”

He claps Coyote on the shoulder. “Let’s move the car right outside the hospital.” and climbs in the driver seat in a flash, “Contact everyone else about the situation.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Damnit, where is he?” Phoenix pants, waving her phone around, which is still recording, to highlight every corridor.

“Follow the screaming?” Bob suggests and glances behind them.

“Contact him—”

“AAAHHHHH!!”

They exchange wide-eyed looks and rush to where the screaming resounds from. Beams from their artificial lights bounce around the hospital’s blackness like a signal of a rave party. The first floor of the hospital is teeming with their urgent footfalls, echoing from one hallway into another.

“Fanboy!” Phoenix hollers, “I swear if this is a prank..!”

She and Bob round a corner, stopping at the sight of Fanboy bolting through the corridor, they sigh in relief.

“Hey, you’re okay—”

“JUST RUN!” Fanboy bursts past them.

“The hell, man?!” Phoenix yells at him.

“What’s that?” Bob narrows his eyes at the corridor, hearing another set of footfalls.

“What’s what?— BOB!” Phoenix explodes when her backseater suddenly carries her onto his shoulder. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I’ll ask for permission later!”

She lightly elbows the back of his head. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Someone was running towards us.” Bob blurts out, evading every debris in the way. “But I couldn’t see it.”

Phoenix looks back to the corner of the corridor— heart dropping at the sight of a shadowed head peeking out. She raises her phone and still sees it through the camera.

“Holy fuck… Bob, go faster.”

Bob obliges, pumping his legs like The Flash, and catches up to Fanboy’s side. Neither of them look back as they hurtle out of the hospital, even Phoenix has kept her eyes down but continues to direct her phone towards their rear.

“What the hell happened?” you ask, strolling out of the hospital with Hangman and Bradley.

“Something was chasing me!” Fanboy cries.

“Something?” you repeat, gesturing for him to continue, you stand at the top of the steps.

“Maybe it was a rat,” Fritz shrugs.

“A rat? After what we just saw?” Halo scoffs.

“You two saw something, too?” Phoenix asks.

“Too?” Fritz begins sweating.

Fanboy glares at him. “Why the hell would I run away from a rat?”

"Alrighty!" you loudly clap your hands five times to silence the growing squabble, "Let's focus on Fanboy for now before we all share our encounters, okay?"

They scatteredly murmur in agreement, you thank them and turn to Fanboy. Just as you're about to interrogate him, you hear a rustle and look over to the entrance. "Heard that?" you ask, pointing your camera to the direction. "It sounded like shoes stepping on glass."

The color on Fanboy's face drains. "Can we get out of here first?" he asks pleadingly.

"I concur," Maverick nods, "I'm getting an unpleasant vibe now that I'm up close to the hospital."

You pout. "But the hospital in the background while we exchange our experiences is brilliant!— Okay, okay, sorry," you quickly say when you sense Fanboy becoming livid, "We can go—"

You stumble forward, but manage to stay in place at the top of the stairs. "Really?" you pull a face at Hangman, "I said we'd go, you don't have to shove me, Seresin."

He looks stupefied. "I didn't. I was actually going to catch you 'cuz I thought you were going to trip down."

"There's a lot of witnesses here.."

"Burton," Phoenix gulps, glancing between you and Hangman. "He didn't touch you."

Your arm moves up on its own. For a second, you think your reflexes have ordered your body to smack Hangman. But that isn't the case.

You let out a yelp while everyone else shouts your name and chases after you. Someone— something unseen is yanking you back to the hospital.

Rooster and Hangman grab hold of you first since they're the closest. Whatever that was pulling you has ceased. "Start the car!" Phoenix yells to Coyote, who snaps out of his stupor and jumps in the driver seat.

Half of the squad clambers in the van while the other half hauls you to follow suit. "Floor it!" Fanboy screams at the top of his lungs, sitting at the rearrest seats, accidentally looking back at the hospital. "I said— FLOOR IT!"

"Wait!" Maverick yells and swiftly does a headcount from the passenger seat, "Everyone's here?"

"Yes!!!" The rest of Dagger Squad yells back.

"So that person by the window near the entrance is not one of us?"

Dagger Squad looks over instinctively. A woman in white is standing by the window, eyes boring straight into each of theirs.

"Of fucking course not— DRIVE!" Fritz shrieks, closing his eyes.

Coyote has practically made the van soar as he drives all of them away from the haunted hospital. No one complains about the first bumpy minutes, everyone is more than glad to have distance between them and the hauntedness.

“OKAY! I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE RELIGION OR NOT, AND IF YOU’RE RELIGIOUS OR NOT—" Fanboy bellows, "—WE’RE GOING TO A CHURCH RIGHT FUCKING NOW AND GET BLESSED BY A REVEREND WITH HOLY WATER AND WEAR ROSARIES FOR A WEEK!”

You roar with laughter. “Now, that’s the Halloween spirit!”

A/N: IF THERE'S SOMETHING STRANGE~ IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD~ WHO YOU GONNA CALL?! gosh im so late asdfghjklqwertyuiopzxcvbnm i think this is the first Top Gun fic i posted? altho i actually already made 3 chapters for a Rooster x Reader dagnabbit

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anurst · 1 year

Text

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: a little peek into the early years of your life

Pairing(s): Jake Seresin x F! Bradshaw! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of deceased parents, death of a loved one, fighting, bradley being a dick, daddy issues,

A/n: thank you for all the support on the first part :,) glad you all liked it!

Part 2: Chick

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw

He was a man who was loved by all who met him. He was loved most of all by his family. His best friend, his brother from another mother, Pete, was his counterpart. Someone who'd always have his back, no matter what. His loving wife, Carole, was his high school sweetheart and the love of his life. She just like him was easy to love. She was bright, sweet, a constant ray of love and laughter. There was also their adorable son, Bradley. A boy who loved his dad more than anything. Most of time you'd find him clutching a mini F-14 Tomcat in his hands, a gift from his beloved dad. Everyone who met Nick loved him.

You never got the chance to meet him. Nick died 6 months after you were born. Bradley was 5 at the time. He had 5 years with him, while you had nothing. Bradley had memories, however few he remembered, with him. And you? Nothing. You know who he is, but you don't know him.

Maybe that was the start of the fall of your relationship with Bradley.

Despite never knowing your dad, Carole, always the good mother, showed you pictures of him, told you stories about him, let you watch the old videotapes that he was in.

Oh, how you loved those videotapes as a child. For hours, you'd lay in the living room, eyes glued to the TV that replayed videos of Nick. Some were of him with Carole, their undying love for one another as clear as day. Others were of moments with him and friends. Then there were some of Bradley, his first steps, preschool, birthdays, his little league games. There was only one of you and Nick.

It was the day you were born. Carole was asleep on the hospital bed with Bradley curled up against her side. You were laying in your hospital issued bassinet, your eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. Nick, the loving father, pointed the camera down at you and cooed.

"Baby, you are beautiful. Just like your mama. You're smaller than your brother was when he born. You're like a baby chick! That's what I'll call you, baby chick. My chick." The camera shifts from you to Nick. He's smiling wide and his eyes are full of love. "I'll always protect you, Chick. I'll always love you."

You stopped watching the videotapes when you got into middle school. They were too much to watch, the heartache was all consuming. Pete around this time had filled in the void that Nick had left. When he wasn't on deployment, he was living in an apartment 10 minutes away from the Bradshaw house.

Although seeing you, Carole, and Bradley caused Pete to relive the worst event of his life, he stayed because of you. Whenever you'd get out of the school and you saw him, you'd smile wide and he'd see Nick. When you'd tell him a story about something that happened, your eyes would light up and he's feel his heart swell with love for you.

Carole never minded Pete stepping in as a father figure for you. He wasn't just Nick's best friend but her's as well. She was grateful that you had someone to look up. She didn't date since she felt that no one would ever live up to Nick, so Pete made life easier. Of course, he wasn't around every day, during those times you'd practically cling to Bradley.

It was late one night when you'd gotten up for some water. Half asleep, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before stopping. You peeked around the corner to see your mom on the phone, her back turned to you.

"He's talking about joining the Naval Academy, Pete! Please! I can't," Carole let out a shaky breath, "I can't lose him too." Her shoulders were shaking with light sobs and you frowned. Turning around, you tried to walk as slowly as possible back to your room. The floorboard creaked underneath you and you stopped.

"Braidy?" Carole asked, her footsteps rushing towards you. Turning around, you pretended to rub your eyes and smiled at your mom.

"Just had to pee," you whispered. Carole bit her lip before she moved to wrap her arms around you. You let your head rest on her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her. By this time, you were around the same height.

"I love you, Chick," she whispered softly. She removed her arms from around you and cradled your face. Tears started to pool in her eyes as she kissed your forehead.

"Mama? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"Where is she!" Bradley yelled, his voice full of panic. The nurse jumped a little at the volume of his voice.

"R-Room 264."

Spitting out an apology, Bradley took off running. His heart was beating out of his chest and could feel bile start to rise in his throat. He stopped when he saw you squatting outside your mom's hospital room. Your body shook and your wails were muffled. "Braidy...?" Bradley whispered, immediately crouching down and wrapping you up in his arms.

You clung to your big brother as you continued to cry. "Bradley...Sh-She's gone..." you sobbed, your hands tightly gripping the back of Bradley's shirt.

"HE PULLED MY PAPERS BRAIDY!" Bradley yelled at you, his face red with anger and sweat starting to form on his forehead. You let out a small whimper at his voice and pushed your hair away from your face.

"I'M SURE HE HAS HIS REASONS, BRADLEY! JUST TALK TO HIM!"

Scoffing, Bradley shook his head and pointed a finger at you. "DID YOU DO THIS? DID YOU TELL HIM TO PULL MY PAPERS?" Shocked, you shook your head.

"NO! BRADLEY JUST TALK TO DAD!"

Silence filled the room as you both took in your own words. Shaking, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as you wiped him.

"Dad?" Bradley scoffed, his voice full of venom. "That guy's dead to me. And, so are you."

[taglist: @potato-girl99981 @winterrebel04 @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina@krismdavis @phantomxoxo]

#top gun reader insert #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #pete mitchell

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callsign-joyride · 1 month

Text

Slice of Your Pie - Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob moves into your neighborhood and you bake him a pie as a welcome gift. He comes over to thank you for it, and doesn't end up leaving your house until morning.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader

Content warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fingering, grinding, unprotected p in v (reader is on birth control), fluff

The nieghborhood that you lived in was small enough that you always knew when someone was moving in. You were enjoying your coffee on your porch when you saw a few trucks pull into the recently sold house right nextdoor. A few people stepped out of the first car, and some good looking guys got out of the moving trucks. You tried to subtly watch as they unloaded things into the house before walking down your driveway to get the mail. As you were checking the stack for anything that might’ve been junk mail, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, I’m Bob. My friends are helping me move in, but I wanted to introduce myself before you went back inside,” he said. You smiled and introduced yourself, tucking the mail under one of your arms to shake his hand. You learned that he was in the Navy, and that he loved Star Wars. That fact made you smile, since your pajamas were currently a Princess Leia shirt and athletic shorts.

“Hurry up, Bob! This couch isn’t gonna unload itself!” Someone yelled.

“That’s Coyote. I gotta go, but it was nice talking to you.”

“Wait, Bob, do you like pie? I can make you one if you want.”

“Sure! Key lime is my favorite.”

“That’s perfect. I have a lime tree in my backyard. Oh, and my lemon tree occasionally hangs over your property so feel free to pick a few lemons whenever.”

“Thanks! I have a really good lemonade recipe so I might have to take you up on that.”

You went back inside and looked at the recipe in your grandmother’s cookbook and realized that you didn’t have the right limes for the pie. Getting them was easy, though, it just took a trip to the grocery store. The good thing was that it was a Saturday, so you had the day off from running your family’s business. It was a bookstore and cafe, and all of the pastries came from your grandmother’s cookbook. There had been talks of turning it into a bar at night, but that was going to be a long process.

Making the pie only took about forty minutes, but you had to let it cool in the fridge for at least a few hours. All of the moving trucks were gone, now replaced with a few cars in the driveway. You could hear laughter coming from the backyard, and it made you happy, because the last neighbors were close to the end of their lives and didn’t have guests over very often.

You were able to drop the pie off at around 6, and Bob had mentioned that everyone was getting ready to eat and that it would be the perfect desert. He even invited you to join the cookout, but you had already ordered a pizza and the delivery driver was on their way. You exchanged numbers before you went back to your house so that you could keep talking. Once you had disappeared from ear shot, Fanboy started talking about how hot he thought you were.

“Don’t make it weird. She probably has a boyfriend or something,” Bob said.

“I don’t think so. She spent her day making you a pie. A day that she could’ve spent with her boyfriend, might I add,” Phoenix said.

“But that’s the neighborly thing to do. Bring the new neighbor a pie or casserole. My mom always did it for our neighbors.”

“Most people aren’t working on Saturdays. I’m just saying that if I didn’t have to work and I had a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’d be spending my day with them. Anyway, let’s try this pie.”

Everyone had a slice of it after they finished with dinner. Even Hangman, who didn’t really like desert to begin with. Rooster thought it was so good that he kept coming back for seconds and thirds, soon passing out on Bob’s couch from all of the food that he ate. Bob waited for mostly everyone to leave before he texted you to see if you were still awake, since it was almost midnight. To his surprise, you responded that you were still awake, and you got too invested in your book so you lost track of time. He was at your door within five minutes, and you had a different set of pajamas on.

“Hey, I wanted to thank you for the pie that you made. My friends and I thought it was delicious.”

“You’re welcome! Would you like to come in for a drink? I was just about to pour myself another glass of wine.”

“Sure.”

Bob followed you inside and took his shoes off by the door. You poured him a glass of wine before sitting on the couch and using your phone to play soft music. As you got to know each other more, you discovered that you had a lot in common, and you were both single. The dim lighting of the living room, combined with the wine and music, made the sexual tension stronger. He told a bad joke, but you started laughing anyways. He used that as his moment to gently kiss you.

You were into it right away, pulling him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. He groaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you started grinding on his hard cock. He broke the kiss for a moment to take his shirt off, and you quickly followed. He put his hands on your tits as you continued to grind on his cock.

“I’d love to continue this, but can we go to your bed? I’ve never really been a fan of having sex on a couch,” he said. You chuckled and grabbed his hand, leading him upstairs to your bedroom. He laid you on the bed, continuing to kiss you as he took your shorts and underwear off. He rubbed your clit and started to finger you while you were moaning and writhing underneath him.

“God, you’re so wet,” he said.

“It’s all for you. Holy shit, it feels so good,” you moaned.

Once he figured out that you were ready enough for him, he took his shorts off and threw them by the bed.

“I don’t have a-,”

“I have an IUD and I’m clean.”

“Okay. You ready?”

You nodded and felt him slowly push himself into you. You moaned in pleasure and pulled him down to kiss you as he started thrusting faster. You could tell that he was close as he started rubbing your clit so that you could both release at around the same time. The fire in your stomach was burning hotter until you finally released, and Bob quickly pulled out before releasing on your stomach. He rolled over and reached for the box of tissues that you kept by your bed before cleaning both of you up.

“Do you want to stay the night?” You asked. He chuckled and nodded his head, cuddling with you until both of you fell asleep. When you woke up the next morning from your alarm going off, Bob was still holding onto you.

“I have to be at work in an hour and a half,” you said.

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to make you something to eat or some coffee?”

“No, I usually have my breakfast at work. Thanks for the offer, though. Do you want to shower together?”

Bob nodded his head and followed you to the bathroom. The shower was intimate, but not sexual, something that you enjoyed.

With your bag over your shoulder, you stepped outside of the house and walked to your car.

“I really enjoyed last night. Maybe we could go out on an actual date next time, though,” you said. Bob started blushing, and he stammered out a “yes” while nodding his head. You chuckled and got into your car to go to work. The day went by quickly as you did multiple things around the little bookstore. Not very many customers came in, but it was a Sunday, so people were usually doing other things. You heard the bell of the door ring as someone walked in, so you finished putting copies of Frankenstein on the shelves before heading to the front of the store.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?” You asked as you walked to the register. Bob was standing there, smiling.

“I didn’t know that you worked here,” he said as he tried not to laugh.

“I own the place, it’s my family’s business.”

“Oh, nice. I guess I’ll have to come by more often, then.”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx

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#robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #top gun maverick #x reader #reader insert #tgm #dagger squad

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make-me-imagine · 2 years

Text

The Future Awaits

Plot: You and Iceman meet at a bar and hit it off. Once you suddenly leave, Iceman is afraid he will never see you again, but, you know something he doesn't.

Requested Prompts: "Why are you staring at me?"< (changed to fit the dialogue better) "Because I think you're beautiful." + "You owe me a kiss." and "I think I'm falling in love with you." "I think I'm okay with that." Requested By: Anonymous

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x GN!Reader (leans a bit towards a feminine character; but no pronouns are used) *Readers call sign is Apollo

Warnings: A part of this takes place in a bar, and 'drinks' are mentioned, but its not specifically alcohol, so you can picture it as you want.

Words: 3.6k

"I really don't think this is what I want to be doing before my first day." You said with a sigh as you looked at the loud and clearly crowded bar in front of you.

Your friend shook you lightly by the shoulder "It's exactly what you should be doing. Half of the pilots you'll be flying with will be here."

Letting out another soft groan as they began dragged you inside, you said forceully "But we leave by eight, no later!"

"Yeah yeah I know."

You almost flinched at the mixed smell of alcohol, smoke and sweat that hit you as you entered the bar. You grimaced a bit as you saw the large bustling crowd. A mix of military personnel and locals, some mixed together, some grouped up.

You wondered if you were the only pilot not wearing their uniform. You felt a bit out of place as you slid through the crowd and sat at the bar beside your friend.

Looking around, your eyes stopped momentarily on a taller man with blonde hair. A pilot, big smile, attractive. You wondered if he was one of the pilots you'd be working with.

Looking back at the bartender as they came over, you missed the man you had just been admiring look over at you.

Iceman's eyes seemed to double take as he looked over a the bar. As he scanned you up and down, interest took hold. He had never seen you before, or the friend you were with. You smiled at the bartender and he felt an odd flutter in his chest.

Feeling a smack on his shoulder, he looked over to see Slider staring at him amused "What's got you so distracted all of a sudden?"

Iceman smirked a little as he gestured towards you "Talking to the bartender."

Slider whistled lowly "Cute. And just you're type. You gonna go talk to 'em?"

Ice shrugged his head a bit "I'm thinking about it."

That was a lie, there was no thinking about it, and no way he would let you leave this bar without at least learning your name.

--- ---

"Oh, there's Jeremy! I'm gonna go say hi, don't go anywhere!"

As your friend bounded off without waiting for a reply, you just let out a soft laugh. You knew it wouldn't take long before you were left on your own.

Seeing a figure slide into the seat your friend had just been in, you could feel the strangers eyes boring into you. You internally cursed, hoping it wasn't some drunk local hoping to get lucky.

When they didn't look away, you finally glanced over. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as your eyes locked with a pair of icy blue ones. The man you had seen earlier was now right beside you, looking down at you with a charming smile.

"Hi." He said casually.

"Hello." You smiled as you sipped at the straw in your drink.

He continued to smile as he stared at you. You almost laughed "Is there a reason you're staring at me?"

His smile widened "Yeah, because I think you're beautiful."

You felt your chest clench as you tried to repress a grin. You nodded your head, amused and surprised.

"Your friend coming back, or can I sit down?" He added on, sparing you of a response to his blunt compliment.

So he was waiting for your friend to leave? How long had he been watching you? The thought made your skin burn hot.

"I doubt I'll see them again for a while." You said with a soft laugh before you motioned your head, welcoming him to sit.

You might as well get to know at least one pilot before tomorrow.

He smiled brightly as he sat down, obviously not bothered by his proximity to you as he stayed facing you, his knee brushing your thigh.

"I'm Tom, but my call sign is Iceman." Before you could respond he added on "Uh, a call sign is basically a nickname we have as pilots."

You smiled at him as you bit down on your straw, noting the way his eyes lingered on your lips as you did this.

So he assumed you were a local. You had heard of Iceman, he was a hot shot, number one at Top Gun in the class a couple years before you. And apparently he was cocky, and a tad bit full of himself, maybe this could be fun.

"Why do they call you that?" You asked softly.

He shrugged his head a bit as he leaned on the bar, "Because I'm cool in stressful situations. Ice cold. I make no mistakes."

You hummed a bit with a small smile, watching as his eyes scanned your face again.

"What's your name?" He asked softly.

"Y/n."

Reaching out his hand he grinned "Nice to meet you Y/n."

Taking it, you shook his hand, not unaware of the fluttering in your stomach, or the heat at the tips of your ears. He was certainly charming.

You looked around a bit, feigning ignorance "So the air base must be close to here huh? A lot of pilots in here."

He nodded as he casually looked around "Yeah, this is the main bar we come to for a night out. So I'm assuming you're not from here then?" You shook your head "Well that explains why I haven't seen you before."

"Just got into town today." You added casually before you turned your head towards him a bit more "So, Iceman" you began, noting the way his lip quirked as you used his call sign "What's it like being a pilot?"

You listened to him talk for a few minutes, deciding that though he was definitley a bit full of himself, he was also charismatic, loved his job, and loved flying.

"You get along with the other pilots, or are there rivalries?" You might as well get some info before you walk into your new station blindly.

He let out a short laugh "No, we all get along. Occasionally a newbie gets transferred in, thinks they're the shit, but we humble them quickly."

You smirked at this "Got any newbies recently?"

"No, but we got a new pilot transferring in tomorrow."

"Oh? What's their call sign?" You held your breath, waiting for it.

"Apollo."

You rose your brow "Well that's an interesting name."

"Yeah, I guess Apollo is the god of prophecy or something." He said with an almost disinterested tone.

"So they can see the future?" You joked.

He let out a chuckle "That would be something. No, apparently they got a reputation for being able to see things coming before they happen. Meaning great instincts, but we'll see."

You wanted to laugh, but you held it in. "You don't believe it?"

He shrugged his head "I hear a lot of reputations about pilots, half of them are exaggerated."

You turned fully towards him now, your leg pushing his aside but still resting against each other. This clearly caught him off guard as he straightened up a bit.

You set your elbow on the bar and put your head in your hand "And what's your reputation?"

He licked his lips as he smiled "I've got a few."

Before your conversation could move forward, you saw a large man suddenly appear at Iceman's side as he slung his arm around his shoulder. Iceman was clearly annoyed at this sudden intrusion, but you looked patiently at the new man.

"Iceman, ask your new friend here if they play darts, we need two more players."

Ice looked like he was about to shoo him off, but you spoke first.

"I do."

Iceman looked over at you a bit shocked, as Slider grinned "Great."

"You play darts?" Iceman asked amused

You shrugged "I'm decent."

You watched his mind working as a small smirk played at his lips. "You down a player each team?" Iceman asked Slider.

"Yes'sir."

"Alright, how about a deal then." He said to you now.

"What kind of deal?"

"You win, I pay your tab. I win, I get a kiss."

You saw his friend repress a smile, and you smirked. "Alright, deal."

Iceman's grin grew wider as you agreed. Standing, he reached out his hand for you to shake. Taking it, you were a bit surprised as he continued to hold your hand as he led you to the dart board, where you were greeted by the other pilots with a chorus of cheers.

--- --- ---

You let out a long breath as you aimed your dart at the board. You needed three points, no more or you'd bust, giving Iceman the chance to win. As you threw your dart, you let out a disappointed groan as you barely missed your mark.

You saw Iceman smile widely as he stepped up to the board. After a moment, he threw his dart, hitting the double four, earning the perfect score he needed.

You and your teammates groaned as his team cheered. You watched as Iceman turned towards you and took a step closer, clearly proud of himself. "Looks like you owe me a kiss."

You heard snickers and teasing 'oohs' coming from the other pilots, but you ignored them. Taking a step closer you stared up at Iceman, watching as he held his breath, his eyes darting between yours and yours lips. Leaning up slowly, you smiling softly before quickly kissing his cheek.

The others around you let out laughs and groans, some clutching their chest, mocking the obvious disappointment on Iceman's face.

You grinned at him and shrugged "You never said what kind of kiss."

The man you learned was Slider came up and gripped Iceman's shoulders "Ouch. But you should have expected that."

A smile spread across Iceman's face as he looked down at you "Cute."

You smiled sweetly at him, feigning innocence, as his grin widened. Suddenly you felt an arm slip around your waist. Looking over, you saw your friend looking at you with a smile. "Sorry to interrupt, but -" they leaned in and whispered in your ear.

Your eyes found the nearest clock you saw it was nearly nine. You looked at your friend and they shrugged, their version of an apology for not getting you sooner "I didn't want to interrupt your game."

You looked at Iceman, who stared at the two of you in confusion. Part of you wanted to stay, but you knew you needed a good nights sleep. And, you wanted the finish what you started with Iceman before he learned the punchline too soon.

You reached out, straightening one of his uniform patches "Sorry Tom, looks like I gotta go, busy day tomorrow."

"Already?" He laughed, but you could see the disappointment in his face. Maybe he did really like you. You shrugged apologetically and he straightened up a bit "Will I see you again?"

You smiled "I can't see the future, but I have a feeling you will."

He frowned slightly, obviously missing your hint of who you were.

Stepping back you smiled, "See ya Tom."

You could feel his eyes on you as you and your friend left the bar. You thought for a moment as you glanced back and saw him watching you, that he would follow you. But as Slider grabbed his arm, you knew he wouldn't.

He wanted to follow you, get your number, your address, anything, but as Slider grabbed him, he looked away for a moment, only to look back and see you were gone.

"Dammit" He muttered as he quickly went after you, sliding between the groups of people that filled the bar. As he stepped outside, he saw your car driving away and cursed under his breath.

You'd come back to find him right? There was no way it was just him feeling what was between you. That electricity that sent chills up his spine. Something he had never felt before. He had to see you again.

"So, who was that? He was cute." Your friend asked as you drove off.

"Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, a pilot at the base."

They frowned a bit "Did you not tell him who you were? He seemed like he was expecting to never see you again."

You smiled "I may have kept it a secret."

They let out a laugh "Oh, that's good. Cruel, but good."

You smiled to yourself throughout the night as you tried to imagine how he would respond when he learned who you really were. Would he find it as funny as you did? Or would he be annoyed?

You were also a bit afraid. You grew to like him throughout the night, and he seemed to like you too. But when you started to work together, would he pull away?

--- --- --- ---

Throughout the rest of the night, and next morning, you would not leave Tom's mind. He couldn't believe he didn't get your number, or even just your last name. He already planned to go back to the bar tonight, to see if you'd come back. He felt a tightness in his chest that he knew wouldn't go away until he saw you again.

As Slider nudged his arm, he looked up as the General entered, ready to debrief the group on an upcoming mission.

"Before we start, I'd like to introduce the newest member of the team, you probably know them as their call sign Apollo. Graduated top of their class in the Top Gun program, I expect you all to welcome them and make them feel at home."

Tom stared down at the pen he was twirling in his fingers, as the general spoke, not particularly interested in the newest addition to the team. But when there seemed to be a wave of motion through the pilots, and a chorus of whispering, followed by Slider hitting him in the arm, he looked up in confusion.

Following Sliders line of sight, he saw the newest pilot coming in. He felt his heart skip a beat as his breath got caught in his throat.

"Lieutenant Y/n L/n, Apollo, welcome."

You nodded at the General as you turned and looked at the group of pilots. You recognized most of them from the bar, and from their shocked faces, they recognized you. As your eyes ran through the crowd, they paused on a familiar face.

Tom stared up at you with a clear look of shock and confusion.

It felt like time stopped as he met yours eyes. And as a small smirk played at your lips he felt his heart palpitate. Sitting down in the front row, his eyes bored into the back of your head throughout the rest of the debriefing. He couldn't focus on anything else.

As he sat there, your conversations ran through his head again. The whole time, you knew what you were doing. When you met, he immediately assumed you weren't a pilot and you played along. When he remembered talking about Apollo he felt himself cringe.

Then he remembered what you said when he asked if he'd see you again "I can't see the future, but I have a feeling you will." You played him.

But he wasn't mad, he even felt a smile appear on his face as he stared at the back of your head. You did exactly what he would have done. He almost laughed, God, you were perfect.

When the debrief ended, you weren't surprised to turn around to see Tom walking straight up to you. He had small smile playing on his lips and you felt a wave of relief to see he wasn't angry.

He stopped right in front of you as his face went blank. "Y/n. Or, should I call you Apollo?"

You smiled "Either works."

Slowly, a smile spread across his face as he shook his head "You played me."

"I didn't play you, I just let you assume I was what you thought I was."

"Which was?"

"Well not a pilot obviously."

He let out a short laugh "Yeah, fair enough " He stared at you for a moment, his eyes darting around your face, and you felt those now familiar butterflies.

"So, Apollo. We gonna have a rivalry, or are we gonna be friends?" His voice slowed as he said 'friends' making you assume he was insinuating more.

You smiled slowly "I don't know Tom. You tell me."

--- --- --- ---

As you set down your now empty glass, you stood up, slapping Slider on the shoulder "I'm out." You said casually.

There was a chorus of 'boos' and complaints from your friends as you began to leave, but you just raised your hand in farewell. You had a long day, and sitting in the noisy, crowded bar was not how you wanted to spend the rest of it.

You had been at the base for over a month now, and it even started to feel like home. You got along with everyone, especially Tom. Nothing had formed between you since that first night you met, but you knew those feelings were lingering just under the surface.

Neither of you shied away from flirty comments, innuendos, or even physical touch. You were used to him slinging his arm around your shoulder, or even resting your head against him. You were friends, but something more was there, and it was obvious to both of you, and probably everyone else, but neither of you had truly acted on it.

Your eyes looked around, and landed on Tom. You thought of calling out to him, but you saw his intense gaze as he lined up a shot and decided no to bother. You would see him tomorrow, and just like every other day, you'd hope something would change.

Iceman grinned as he took his final winning shot in his game of pool. Looking over to where you had been, he felt a small tug at his heart when he saw you were gone. Looking around, he found you just in time to see you heading towards the doors. He felt a tight clench in his chest as he felt an urge to follow you.

He had been debating telling you how he felt ever since he met you, but since you started to work together, he knew it could be risky. But every day it felt worse holding it in. Every day he saw your smile, heard your laugh, he fell harder and harder. And every day he missed the chance to hold your hand, to kiss you, to hold you against him was a day of torture.

As the thought of you walking out of the bar the first night you met entered his mind, he remembered that regret he felt for having not chased after you faster. Before this thought was over, he was handing his pool cue to his friend and following after you.

Stepping out into the cool darkness, he saw you heading out of the parking lot. "Y/n!" He yelled, causing you to halt and turn around.

You watched as Tom came jogging up to you, and you felt your stomach knot.

As he stopped in front of you he smiled down at you "Let me walk you back, I hate the idea of you going alone."

You smiled, feeling warmth in your chest "I wont stop you."

Turning, you both began walking. As he walked in stride beside you, his arm brushed against yours, hands briefly touching. There was a minute of silence as you began walking down the road as both of you felt the rising tension.

Tom took a breath as he stopped walking, at the same time, he gently grabbed your arm. You stopped and turned back, seeing the intense look on his face.

"What is it?" You asked, voice almost wavering.

"I-I have something I need to tell you. Something that has been eating me up."

Frowning, you turned fully towards him, "What is it Tom?"

You shivered as he gently ran his fingers down your arm, until he hooked his hand around your own. He stared down at your hand, gently stroking it with his thumb.

Swallowing, he looked back up, meeting your eyes. He could see the concern in your gaze, and all he wanted to do was take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"I don't think it's a secret to either of us that there is something here. And that there has been since we met. But over the last month, I didn't act on it, when I should have. And every day I haven't has been torture to me. And honestly Y/n-" He let out a shaky breath as he took a small step closer, staring deep into your eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

You felt your heart jump in your chest as your ears and face grew hot. How could someone so perfectly say what you had been wanting to?

A slow smile spread across your face "I think I'm okay with that."

Tom's nervous expression gave away to a bright smile, that was all you needed to say. He knew how you felt, and you knew how he felt. There was no secret about it, just one of you needed to break that silence.

Lifting his hands, he gently held your face as you stepped closer, your bodies gently touching.

His eyes darted to your lips before his smile turned into a smirk "Then how about I actually get that kiss you owe me?"

A soft giggle escaped, as you smiled coyly at him before your own eyes traced his lips. Slowly you both leaned in, locking eyes just as your lips touched. Your eyes then fluttered closed as Tom pulled your face closer as he deepened the kiss.

The deep didn't last long but it was electric, sending shivers through your body. Pulling away, you locked eyes and grinned, as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Tell me Apollo, can you really see the future? Did you know I'd fall head over heels for you?"

You grinned happily up at him "I can't see the future, but I had a feeling you would."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

If you want to be added to my Top Gun taglist let me know~

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an-unknown-writers-world · 1 year

Text

Are you mad? ~ A Jake “Hangman” Seresin Drabble

Summary: Loosely based on the Brett Young song Can’t Sleep Without You

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, implied smutty ending (not written), mostly unedited so please ignore the typos

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 690

A/N: Meh, this isn’t my best work. But I’ve been struggling on the writing front and wanted to get something out.

“Are you mad? You look mad.” You asked timidly, sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck.

“I’m not mad.” He responded softly.

“Your jaw is clenched, and your face is screwed up like your mad.”

“I’m annoyed, not mad.” He tried to clarify.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Each time you drove under a streetlight or a car passed in the opposite direction, you could see the lingering frustration on Jake’s face. You knew that he had had a long week at work and the last thing he wanted to do was bail you out of trouble.

You and Natasha had gone out to The Hard Deck, and Bradley and Jake had declined the offers to tag along, leaving it to a girl’s night. One thing led to another; both of you had drank more than you should have. When a pair of guys wouldn’t take no for an answer from you and Phoenix, you resulted in something other than words. A thrown drink and a punch to the face later, they were both thrown from the bar, and Penny called Bradley and Jake to come to pick up their wives.

“You still look mad.” You muttered.

“I’m NOT mad! But I will be if you keep asking!” Jake raked his hand over his face. “I’m sorry.” He spoke again, this time in a softer tone. “I’m annoyed with how disgusting men can be and that I allowed myself to put you in a situation where I couldn’t protect you. I know you’re a grown woman who can care for yourself. But as your husband, it kills me to know that something like this would have never happened if I had just been there with you.”

He reached across the center console of his truck and laid his hand on your thigh.

“I know you had a long week. I’m sorry Penny had to wake you to come get me.”

This made him chuckle, “Oh babe, I can’t sleep without you. Even if I tried, I would just toss and turn, waiting for you to come home.”

“Jake, you know I would have stayed home if you would have just asked.” You said, intertwining your fingers with his.

“I know,” He pulled your intertwined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of your hand. “That’s why I didn’t ask. I meant it when I told you to have a good time tonight. As long as I know I’m the one you’re coming home to, I’m happy. You work so hard and spend too much of your time doting on me. You deserve a night out, especially a girl’s night.”

He pulled into the driveway, letting go of your hand long enough to throw the truck in park and remove the keys from the ignition.

“Can you do me a favor?” Jake asked. “Next time, let Jimmy or Penny know what’s going on before it gets to the point of drink-throwing. Call me or text me. Hell, you could call Bradshaw if that would help.”

You giggled. “So the next time I need help, I should call Bradley?”

Jake shook his head, smiling; he knew what you were trying to do. He leaned forward and kissed you chastely. “I’m being serious,” He said, resting his forehead against your own. “I was worried when I saw Penny calling. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“I promise,” You murmured, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I worry about you every time you’re out of arms reach. It’s my job as your husband.” He chuckled, “You realize how accident-prone you are, right?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Before he could speak again, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. You nipped at his bottom lip, begging to deepen the kiss. Your fingers threaded through the hair at the base of his neck. His hand cradled the side of your face. You didn’t intend for it to turn into anything, at least not at first.

“Take me to bed, lieutenant.” You whispered once the kiss broke.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Hangman Seresin X Reader #Hangman x Reader #Jake Seresin Reader Insert #Hangman Reader Insert #Jake Seresin Imagine #Hangman Imagine #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Maverick x Reader #Top Gun x Reader #Top Gun maverick Reader insert #Top gun reader insert #top gun maverick imagine #top gun imagine #An Unknown Writers World writes

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chaostheoryy · 2 years

Text

Duly Noted (A College AU)

[Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X GN!Reader]

Summary: As a studious undergrad on track for graduating with stellar marks, missing class because of the flu was by far the worst way to start your week. Fortunately for you, there’s one bright-eyed classmate who cares about you more than his reputation as a C-minus college athlete.

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Well, since my inbox has been dry as the Sahara, I decided to come up with an idea of my own. So, without further ado, here’s the college AU Rooster fic that no one asked for! (No beta, per usual. We out here raw dogging these mistakes.)

Where are you?

Still in bed…

You’re playing hooky without me???

I’m not playing hooky! I’m sick!

You okay?

Yeah I’m alright. Got the flu I think.

Need me to get you anything? I can bring you medicine or snacks after class.

Nah, I’m good. Thank you though!

If you change your mind, lemme know.

Bradley frowned. As benign as the flu was, the thought of you being ill left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew fully well just how much that course meant to you and your degree. While he spent every class lounging in his chair and letting his mind wander to God knows what, you would bury your nose in your notebook or laptop and take notes on everything the professor said as if your life depended on it. He could only imagine just how disappointed you were missing out on a whole lecture’s worth of information.

Dammit…

As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew right away what had to be done.

“Hey, ’Tasha,” he whispered. “Natasha.”

The dark haired woman one row in front of him turned. Eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a sharp line of irritation, her gaze made daggers feel blunt.

“The hell do you want, Bradshaw?”

“You got a pen I can borrow?”

The question took her by complete surprise. Her brow raised, the scowl on her face melting into an amused smirk.

“You’re joking.”

Bob Floyd, her glasses-wearing friend and study partner, was drawn to her disbelief. “What is it?”

“Jockstrap over here is actually going to take notes.”

Bob glanced between her and Bradley. It took him a second to process what was happening but as soon as it hit him, he cracked a massive grin that rivaled Natasha’s.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Alright, don’t make a big deal of it. You gonna lend me a pen or not?”

“Y’know, part of me wants to say no,” Natasha mused, “But watching you exercise those dusty ol’ brain cells is honestly a rare treat.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She reached into her bag and grabbed an extra pen which she tossed back to him. “Give that back to me after class or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Bringing two fingers to his temple, he gave a little salute. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, unable to hide smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For the first time that semester, Bradley Bradshaw’s untouched notebook was stained with ink.

* * * * *

You had fallen back asleep within minutes of his last text. The previous night had been an absolute nightmare. Violent chills had racked your body and made it impossible to get comfortable. Combining the shivers with the upset stomach and stuffy nose, you were miserable. Any rest you could get throughout the day was God-sent.

Your early morning nap lasted a good two hours. It was the most sound, dreamless sleep you’d had in the past week and, if it weren’t for the fact that Bradley called you just after 10am, you probably would have slept three times as long.

“Hello?” You answered groggily.

On the other end of the line, Bradley hissed. “Shit. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay. I’ve got all day to sleep. What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna make you get out of bed but I kinda need you to open the door.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Well, I know you said you didn’t need anything but I stopped at the store for stuff anyway. Can you come let me in? I would have one of your roommates open the door but I guess they’re both in class or something.”

You blinked. He was outside of your apartment.

“Yeah, hang on. I’ll be right down.”

Despite the protests of your body, you hurried out of bed. You ditched the sweat-soaked pajama shirt in the laundry basket and threw on a clean tee before stepping out of your room into the main hallway. A short walk to the front door and you pried it open to find Bradley standing on your welcome mat with paper bags of groceries nestled in both arms. He perked up the second he laid eyes on you.

“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Hey. Come on in.”

You stepped back to let him inside, closing the door behind him as he headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d come over and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As one of your closest friends and long-time classmate—it was honestly crazy to think you’d been in classes together as far back as the 7th grade—the two of you spent more time together than apart. Neither of you would have had it any other way.

“I’d give you a hug,” you said as he started unpacking the grocery bags, “But I don’t want to get you sick too.”

He chuckled. “I think I could take the hit.”

“Just ‘cause you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

You spotted a bottle of Gatorade on the counter where he’d unloaded stacks of soup cans and Tylenol. Taking the bottle, you slunk over to the couch where you could watch from a safe distance. The last thing you wanted was to share your germs with one of the school’s star baseball players. As much shit as Jake Seresin gave you and Bradley, something told you that the dickwad would be all the more annoying if he found out you were the one to force Bradley onto the bench for a week.

“How was Simpson’s class this morning?”

“Oh, thrilling as always,” he replied caustically.

“Bob answer every question?”

“You know it.”

You laughed. “Figures. At least we know that means somebody besides me knows their shit. I’ll have to get his notes later so I can catch up.”

“No need. I got you covered.”

Bradley paused his kitchen organization and dug in the backpack he’d discarded on the dining room table. Grinning proudly, he pulled out his notebook. Yes. His notebook—the one and only busted red spiral notebook with a sticker of a goose in aviators slapped on the bottom right corner of its cover.

“Wait. Don’t tell me…You actually took notes for me?”

“Sure did!”

He strolled over and dropped the notebook in your lap before collapsing on the cozy little armchair across from you. The look on his face as he watched you go through his notes was priceless. With big eyes and a triumphant smile, he bore an uncanny resemblance to a golden retriever waiting for his owner to give him a treat. And boy did he deserve one.

The thoroughness of his notes left you stunned. With six pages of organized, neatly scripted notes, it was by far the most effort you’d ever seen him put into classwork.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you said, “You really went all out on this didn’t you?”

He chuckled. “If I wanted any shot at making something up to your standards, I kinda had to. Plus, Bob and Natasha were eyeing me the entire lecture. I think I finally get what peer pressure’s like now.”

A dull ache echoed in the back of your head as a reminder of your crappy night’s sleep and irritating affliction. You should’ve gone back to bed but you couldn’t pry your eyes from Bradley’s notebook. It meant the world to you that he’d done that. To think that he’d actually put that much effort into notes taken on your behalf when he wouldn’t even have bothered to jot down a single bullet point for himself.

You flipped through the pages again, unable to hold back an awestruck sigh. “God, I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

The statement was out of your mouth and lingering in the air long before your brain processed the consequences. What on God’s green Earth compelled you to say that? Were you high on over the counter flu meds? Or had the fever actually fried your brain?

You wanted to take it back. Especially when you dared to glance up and found Bradley gaping at you.

Oh, for the love of God, you thought as fresh, non-fever related color rushed to your cheeks. Of all the ways to confess, this is the one you go with?

In all honesty, you should have seen it coming. It was only a matter of time.

He’d been your best friend for the better part of a decade. Inseparable from the moment you met. Every big life event from birthdays to buying your first car, he was the first one to celebrate with you. Hell, the guy passed up a full ride to play baseball at the University of Florida just so he could go to the same school as you.

Slowly but surely, as the years rolled on and childhood faded into the past, the friendship that you treasured became the key to your happiness. The goofy, thrill-seeking kid you’d come to adore and trust with your entire being grew into a selfless gentleman. Though he never lost that edge that separated him from perfectionists and academics, he’d clearly come into his own. It would have been impossible for you not to fall for him.

“Did you just say you wanna kiss me?”

Bradley’s voice reeled you back in from the sea of your internal torment. He didn’t sound angry or even disgusted by the notion. In fact, he almost sounded delighted—a theory that was backed the moment you looked over and saw a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and, despite the outcry from every defense mechanism tucked away in your subconscious, you forced yourself to reply. “I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice registering just above a whisper.

“Good.”

Your brow furrowed at his reply. You wanted to ask what he meant, to see if your confession was something the foundations of your friendship could withstand. But he was on his feet and crossing the distance between his chair and the couch before a question was even formulated in your mind.

“Bradley, hold on. I don’t wanna get you si—“

The protest died on your tongue. Warm, gentle hands cupped your jaw as his lips met yours. It was a sweet kiss. There was no hurry, no hesitation. Just the taste of a decade’s worth of fondness and pent up intimacy. Between the soothing caress of his fingertips at the nape of your neck and the bristle of his mustache just above your upper lip, you swore his kiss was better than heaven itself.

His hands kept their post along your jaw when he pulled back to look at you. The smile on his face was unbearably reverent. Anything softer than that look in his eyes and you would have suffocated.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” You asked.

“How long have we been friends?”

Both of you chuckled. Turns out you weren’t the only one who’d gradually fallen over the years.

“Well, thank you,” you said.

“For what?”

You patted the notebook still sitting in your lap. “For thinking of me this morning. And for not flipping out when I said I wanted to kiss you.”

“This may come as a surprise,” he said with a lopsided smirk, “But I think about you a lot.”

Your brow cocked. “Oh, really?”

While it was clear from his tone that he meant it in an innocent, heartfelt manner, you couldn’t help but toy with the more explicit connotation of his words. And let’s be honest, you were guilty of having thoughts that strayed a little too far off the path of purity.

“Hey!” Bradley’s hands fell from your neck and one of his palms playfully shoved you back against the couch by the forehead. “Settle down. You’re supposed to be sick, not horny.”

You reached out to smack his thigh. “And you’re not supposed to be kissing people when they’re sick, dumbass. Jake’s gonna kill me if you end up missing a single practice.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll just OD on Emergen-C when I get home.”

He ignored your childish pout and plopped down on the couch next to you. Rather than drape his arm over the back of your seat like he normally did, he hooked it around your shoulders and pulled you into the warmth of his embrace. Your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck where the scent of his cologne lulled you into dream-like contentment. You’d always thought he smelled good but nuzzling into him like that made it hard to overlook just how right it felt to be engulfed in his presence.

“You need anything?” He asked after a long moment of agreeable silence. “I can make you some soup if you want. I also got some mac n’ cheese if you’re feeling up to it. I don’t know how bitchy your stomach is acting right now.”

“Bradley?”

“Hm?”

“Shut up and let me fall asleep on you.”

A delightful, weightless sensation twisted in your stomach when you felt a chuckle rumble in his chest. Now there was a feeling you never realized you wanted.

“Alright. You sleep. We’ll get you to eat something when you wake up,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed your approval and closed your eyes. All of your senses zeroed in on him. The way he smelled of cedarwood and ocean breezes, the way his chest rose and fell beneath you with each breath, the way his thumb absentmindedly stroked your shoulder. All of it was new and exciting. And yet, at the same time, it was as if you’d been indulging in the gifts of his adoration your entire life.

In a stark contrast to the evening prior, you fell asleep in record time.

#Ah yes a shameless Friends to Lovers trope story #Do people even write AU reader inserts?#Well I do I guess #Until I get prompts and story ideas we're just gonna have to take whatever my goofy little brain comes up with #Bradley Bradshaw X Reader #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw X Reader #Rooster X Reader #Reader Insert #Top Gun Reader Insert #Top Gun Imagines #GN!Reader #My fic #Top Gun: Maverick Fic #Miles Teller X Reader

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weasleywinchester · 2 years

Text

Slow Motion - Ch.4

My World is Standin’ Still

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Who am I updating two fics on the same day?? Hope y’all enjoy this chapter, we get a little serious, a little steamy and a whole lotta cute 💙 enjoy!

Series Summary:

I mean, love at first sight has to exist for some people. Guess you’re one of the lucky ones. Bob had said it so nonchalantly. Like it was a thing that could, did, happen in real life. And yet here he was, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, falling for you faster than his plane could take off. But even if everything felt slow motion, was it possible the two of you were moving too fast?

Chapter Summary:

First dates: that thing most people fret about so much they get nervous. But for you and Bradley it’s just something that needs to get out of the way. This feeling like you were made to be together only gets stronger by the day, but it seems like the universe needs you to stand still before you can take off.

We have a smut warning for this one 👀 (hand job, both receiving)

A Week Later

Tuesday

“Talk to me Phoenix.” Mav excitedly whispers as he catches Phoenix walking down the hall. He was so excited when Bradley wasted no time in planning the perfect first date.

“Rooster had to cancel.” She sighs, opening the door and gesturing for Mav to walk ahead.

“What, why?” He turns to face her, walking backwards down the hall.

“We had to do a diagnostic flight. It took way longer than we thought.” She hands her paperwork off to an officer passing by and gestures for Mav to follow.

“How’d she take it?” He gently puts his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes for any hidden answers. Phoenix opens her mouth to answer when Bob walks over.

“She’s totally fine. They got another reservation at a different place for tonight. So, fingers crossed.” He nods.

“Rooster was pretty upset. He had the whole thing mapped out. And he apparently pulled every card he could to get the reservation.”

Mav nods in agreement; dinner at a fancy restaurant by the beach, new suite and a giant bouquet of flowers in your favorite color. Rooster had even roped him into helping clean the Bronco spotless so it was a worthy first date car.

“Small hiccup. It’s the first date, they’ll mosty remember the feelings, not necessarily how fancy the place was.” Mav shrugs it off. “It’s not like lightning strikes twice.

_______

Wednesday

“Bob.” Mav shakes the WSO by the shoulders, his grin wide at the excitement of hearing how your date went.

“Red had to cancel this time.” He sighs. “How do you not get this information from them?” He laughs at Mav’s disappointed look.

“Been helping Penny at the bar. Also afraid that if I ask too much I won’t get any of the good details.”

“The entire time Red’s been here she has never been trapped in a meeting!” Phoenix exclaims as she walks up to the pair.

“How did she get stuck in a meeting? She's the queen of leaving on time, no matter what.” Mav asks. Your philosophy is that you’ll work overtime during an audit, a huge deadline on a project and before major holidays, that’s it.

“Admiral’s putting her on the project we were all called in for.” Bob answers. Mav and Phoenix share a knowing look; you’d do anything to work with the group.

“Well, at least they’ll be on the same work schedule.” Mav smiles. “And Bradley didn’t come home last night…”

“And he wasn’t in the barracks.” Phoenix laughs. They are falling so hard for each other.

“They’re trying again tonight.” Bob smiles, showing the text from you.

“They act like their life depends on this date…” Phoenix shakes her head, letting out a small laugh.

“Think they just want the first date jitters to be over.” Mav smiles.

_______

Thursday

“If you feel like you can’t keep a clear head on this mission…”

“Admiral, I’ll be fine. If anything, it'll make me work harder.” You smile, gently thumbing through the files of classified information.

“Admiral Cain should be here on monday. You think you’ll be able to have notes for us by then?” He stops in front of his office door, his face neutral but you can see he needs everything to go as smoothly as possible.

“I’ll start my reading tonight.” Well… maybe tomorrow morning. Actually scratch that, tomorrow evening.

“Excellent. Meeting Friday after lunch, before we bring the rest of the team in.”

Tomorrow morning reading it is then. You give him a nod, which he returns and steps into his office. You quickly return to your desk, cleaning up the mess of papers you left earlier.

“Ready?” Bradley knocks on the wall next to your desk.

“Let me send this email and sign off…” You type as fast as your fat fingers will allow and quickly gather your things.

“Ok. Let’s cross our fingers we make it this time?” You laugh, holding both sets of crossed fingers up and Bradley does the same.

“Made the reservation for much later this time. We got this Red.” He reassures you, both of you breaking into a smile and taking each other’s hand as you quickly bolt to your cars. The drive seems faster than the last three days, whether that be from the speed you both drove or the lighter traffic… who knows.

“Ooo! I almost forgot.” You shout as both of you get out of your cars. You grab a box off the workbench and hand it to him. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as he carefully slides the lid off.

He smiles down at the garage remote nestled in the box with a note: Left side reserved for Captain America.

“I know we’ve just started dating, but considering we’ve been living at work I thought this would be easier for you to just park the Bronco in the garage. No need to worry about street cleaning or trash day.” You shrug. You don’t want it to feel like it’s a big deal, because it honestly feels totally normal, like when you gave Mav a house key.

“Wow...” He smiles at the remote, gently taking it out. He clicks the button and the garage door starts sliding shut. “No house key?” He shoots a grin at you.

“How about we go on a date first?” You wrap your arms around his middle, tilting your face toward him.

“That’s fair.” He chuckles, pressing his lips to yours.

“Get dressed… very quickly.” You giggle as you pull away; he hums in agreement, keeping his arms firmly around you as you unlock the door to the house and shuffle the two of you inside. You run to your bedroom and Bradley runs to the guest room. You told him to just leave his stuff here since you weren’t sure when this date would actually happen. And since you both had to be at work at the same time this week, he might as well just stay here. Unfortunately you both have just ended up falling asleep on the couch instead of making it anywhere near a bed. Date, focus on the date first (Y/N). You shake off all the negative energy from the week and walk out into the living room.

“What do you think?” You twirl so he can see a 360 view. You’d had this dress sitting in your closet begging to be worn for something fancy (which you hardly ever did anything fancy), but it makes you feel perfect and judging by the way Bradley is looking at you, it was very much true.

“Babe you look-“ you both frown as his cell starts blaring. He glances down at it and sighs.

“Admiral.” He says curtly into the phone. He gives a few small nods before his eyes shift to you. “Yes sir. Right away.” He hangs up and walks over to you.

“Beautiful.” He finishes his original sentence, gently putting his hands on either side of your neck and pulling you into a kiss..

“You have to go to work?“ You mumble as your phone starts ringing and you quickly answer.

“Admiral.” You nod just the same as Bradley. When you hang up you give him a sad frown.

“Looks like we both get to go back to work, again.” You place your hands on his chest and sigh.

“Can I hitch a ride?” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple. “The Bronco looks too nice in its new spot to move it.”

“Ya. And we better change.” You grab him by the lapels of his jacket and press your lips to his for a few seconds before playfully pushing him off.

“Wasn’t expecting your lipstick to taste so good Red.” He chuckles, his lips chasing after yours.

“Get dressed Bradshaw.” You push him towards the guest room as you head back to yours.

______

“We’re late.” Your curse under your breath as you both walk through the door to find everyone there. Rooster can feel everyone’s eyes looking both of you up and down.

“Did we interrupt something?” Admiral Simpson asks, eyeing your hair and makeup.

“Yes, but-” you habitually say, instantly regretting it.

“No Sir.” Rooster says a little louder than you.

“No sir.” You correct, giving the admiral an apologetic nod; you and he have had a good back and forth banter, but sometimes you forget he’s your boss and an admiral .

“Sorry for the inconvenience. Wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.” He says quietly to you.

“I know sir. Just frustrated with timing.” You nod, hoping he understands you’re ready to work.

“Everyone, this is Admiral Cain.” He gestures to the man Hangman was chatting with. All of you nod, and turn back to Simpson.

“The Admiral comes with an updated brief on our current mission. As you are all well aware, you have all been asked here because of your exceptional skills, both as individuals and as a team. Admiral Cain, we're glad you can finally join us in person and earlier than we expected.”

“Thank you Admiral Simpson.” He nods and everyone takes a seat. He begins his slide show, talking through each point on what naval intelligence has gathered.

Out of the corner of his eye Rooster sees Admiral Simpson hand you a packet. Your pen instantly starts moving as you furiously scribble notes. He looks up and catches Bob’s eye, both puzzled by the amount of scribbling you’re doing in a simple debrief.

“And that is our plan of attack. We have two months or less to prepare. We will assume less.” He nods.

The pilots all share a look, it was one thing when Maverick gave an impossible plan, but this seemed a bit out of reach, even by his standards.

“Miss (Y/L/N), thoughts?” Admiral Simpson asks.

“Permission to speak freely?” You ask Simpson, eyes shifting to Cain.

“Permission granted.” Simpson answers.

“It would be a good last resort plan.” You sigh, flipping through your packet, searching once more to see if you misunderstood something.

“It will complete the mission in the timeline we need it to.” Cain strongly states, irritation clear in his voice. Everyone can tell he’s wondering who the fuck you are to question him.

“Yes, I agree.” You state, Simpson opens his mouth to interject, but you shoot him a look. “The current plan puts the plane in a difficult position, banking on the fact that the pilots in this room won’t accidentally put the nose into the ground while inverted.” You hold your hand out for the presentation remote, which Cain begrudgingly gives you. You quickly flip back to the defense system layout, rolling the screen up so you can draw on the whiteboard behind it.

“If there’s a S.A.M. here on this ridge, then they’ll probably be one here too.” Your marker squeaks in the silence as everyone closely pays attention. “That means your first plane will be easily struck down. And depending on how close and fast the second one is coming behind, it may result in losing the second one.” You turn to Cain waiting for his retort.

“Who are you exactly?” He asks, coming to stand a foot in front of you so he can peer down at you.

“This is Miss (Y/Full/N). She’s been working here as a flight risk analyst for a few months.” Admiral Simpson answers, giving you a silent warning about staying in line.

“Civilian. You think you know combat missions better than the people in this room?”

“No sir. That’s why my opinion has been asked for. I point out things most military personnel overlook.”

“Sometimes soldiers are lost in the line of duty; a concept you should get used to if you plan on continuing to work for the Navy.”

“Sending your soldiers into battle and expecting to lose half of them is not something I will ever be ok with.” You point the edge of your packet into his chest. “You and I, Admiral, we are the ones who die trying to get these soldiers to hit their target and come home.”

After a moment of staring you dead in the eye he gives a small nod.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Bring Maverick in. He’s done the impossible over and over. If that plane is going to be inverted for that long, it’s going to have to be a little farther off the ground.” You sigh, looking at the white board. “Like I said, this is a good last resort. But we’re the fucking United States Navy, we will do better.”

“Very well.” Cain concedes, giving you a look of understanding.

“We will reconvene tomorrow at 0900. Get some rest everyone.” Simpson announces, showing Cain out the door. When it clicks shut you can hear someone’s chair roll and spring up as they stand.

“Damn Red, didn’t know you had it in you.” Hangman applauds, gently squeezing you to his side.

“Only for you guys.” You sigh, letting all the tension flow out of your body as you squeeze him back.

“Or maybe when the Navy keeps screwing with your plans.” He chuckles loud enough for only you to hear. You roll your eyes at him, a smile playing on your lips as you gently shove him away. Rooster walks over and they share a nod before Hangman walks out with everyone else.

“If we hurry we might be able to change and make it to the restaurant.” He whispers. The smile is quickly back on your face as he takes your hand and guides you back to the car.

_______

“Hi, ugh, reservation is under Bradshaw.” Bradley breaths out. His lungs are on fire, but anything to make this date happen, especially after the way you stood up to Admiral Cain.

“Oh, looks like your reservation was for an hour ago…” the hostess sighs. Bradley tries to convince her to let you in, explains that you both got called to work.

Your phone buzzes and you see Bob sent a few texts.

Have fun!! Not too much fun though 😉

You roll your eyes and text him back that it looks like another day will go by without the official first date.

“No worries, we understand.” Bradley tells the hostess, backing away from the counter.

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” You smile at him, lacing your fingers in his.

“I got to see you in that dress twice in one day.” He grumbles into your ear, kissing you on the cheek. Both your phones buzz, Bradley glances to see a text from Phoenix:

Meet us at the Hard Deck?

He turns to you as you turn to him.

“Hard Deck?” You ask in unison. You both laugh, making your way to the car.

_______

“Penny, can we ask you a favor?” Phoenix asks over the noise of the crowd.

“Sure. What’s up?” She looks between Phoenix and Bob.

“Rooster and Red’s date got postponed again. And the restaurant gave away their spot because they didn’t show.” Bob tells her.

“We were wondering if you could help us set up something for them right now?” Phoenix pleads.

“Now?” Penny gasps, shaking her head as she tries to figure out something.

“What about now?” Hangman squeezes between his friends, curious about what’s happening.

“Trying to do something nice.” Phoenix raises an eyebrow at him.

“Care to elaborate Bob?” Hangman’s eyes shift to him.

“Rooster and Red’s date has been canceled every day this week. We wanted to see if we could do something tonight.” He answers, ignoring Phoenix’s glare.

“Tell me what you need me to do.” He grins.

_______

“We can count this as a first date…” you suggest as Bradley opens your car door.

“If we’re going by that standard then it would be our second date.” He counters, throwing his arm around your shoulder, happy when yours wraps around his waist. “The bonfire would have been the first.”

“That means I could give you a key…” you tease. He wraps his other arm around you, giving you a squeeze as he gently shakes you around until you squeal for him to stop.

“Messed up my hair Bradshaw.” You fake pout.

“Good thing you look so beautiful all the time anyways.” He smiles back. The two of you step around the corner and Bob is waiting out front.

“Hey Bobby.” You smile.

“Sorry to hear about the restaurant.” He takes your free hand in his giving it a squeeze.

“No worries. Tomorrow’s a new day and another chance.”

“Well… maybe you don’t have to wait until tomorrow.” He smiles, gently dragging you to the side of the Hard Deck.

“Where’re we goin Bob?” Bradley chuckles. But Bob doesn’t elaborate, just leads you to a little blocked off section of the outside deck. He swings one of the room dividers out of the way to reveal a little table set for two. There’s some fairy lights strung from the dividers, creating a beautiful ambient glow.

“A table for two, at the best restaurant we know.” Bob gestures for the two of you to take a seat.

“How? When?” You giggle as Bradley helps you sit.

“When the Navy is sent on a mission, we make sure it gets done.” Phoenix answers, setting a basket of bread on the table.

“ And we can’t let the only love at first sight any of us have witnessed die down because of a little thing like a government mission.” Hangman adds, handing you both a glass of whiskey. You and Bradley look at each other and then back at your friends. How are we this lucky?

“Penny will be out with food in a minute, but we will make our exit.” Hangman grabs both Phoenix and Bob by the backs of their necks and leads them back into the bar.

“I know work has gotten in the way of everything this week…” Bradley shakes his head.

“But we also have to thank work for giving us the best friends we could hope for?” You finish.

“To family.” Bradley raises his glass.

“Both the ones related by blood, and the ones we choose.” You clink your glass to his. Penny comes out moments later with your usual order, shooting you a wink as she leaves. It may not have been the date Bradley had planned but you both quickly realized it was perfect. The stars will twinkling above, the waves of the ocean lapping at the shoreline and the bar unusually quiet for so late in the evening.

When you both were done Penny and Hangman shooed both of you away, telling you to not worry about a thing and go home. You both give them each a hug, waving to Bob and Phoenix who step outside as you walk back to your car.

“Think my car’s a bit easier to be romantic in.” Bradley chuckles, leaning across your center console to kiss you.

“I agree. Your seats are much more makeout friendly.” You mumble against his lips. Your mouths move lazily against each other until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

“Let’s get home before I knock out.” You whisper, giving him one last peck before starting the car and driving home.

When you open the garage door Bradley smiles at the sight of his bronco sitting in its new home. You both are quiet, trying to keep the dred of waking up early off as you enjoy the last bits of bliss.

“Goodnight baby.” Bradley mumbles as you stand in front of the guest bedroom.

“Goodnight.” You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. Your mouths collide, moving slowly at first; his hands slowly moving away from your waist until each has a handful of your ass. He hums in delight at how soft and squishy it is, he can only imagine what it would feel like without your dress in the way. He slides his tongue into your mouth as he presses you into the wall, hiking one of your legs up onto his hip.

“Bradley.” You halfheartedly push him away. You don’t want him to stop, but you’re dead tired and the stress of tomorrow is already creeping in the back of your mind.

“Bit carried away. We’ll save that for later.” He grins, pressing one more kiss to your mouth before unwrapping himself from you.

“Goodnight.” You whisper, a dazed smile on your lips.

“‘Night Red.” He winks, walking into the guest bedroom. He listens to you pad down the hall, waiting until he hears the shower start before he moves to do the same. He sadly washes the smell of your perfume off and gets ready for bed. As he sets his alarm a soft knock comes from the door. He opens it to see you leaning against the doorway with a sleepy smile.

“You know, I barely make my own bed; and my guest room has looked so nice and clean for only a few months…”

“I can assure you I can make a bed.” He scoffs playfully, leaning against the wall so your faces are close to each other.

“I don’t doubt it.” You gently take a handful of his shirt. “But we can’t cuddle if you’re here and I’m all the way down the hall...”

“And we can’t have that.” He smiles, letting you drag him into your room. You both jump into bed, checking that alarms are set for the morning before settling under the covers.

“Come ‘ere” he whispers, patting the space next to him. You lay your head on his chest, pushing your body flush against his side. You both lay in silence, the gentle whir of the ac mixes with the muffled sound of the ocean and you can’t help but think this is perfect. Dinner was perfect, Bradley is perfect and him next to you is perfect. You can feel his breathing even out, the arm around you falling to the bed.

“We can’t let the only love at first sight any of us have witnessed…” Hangman’s words ring in your ears. Love at first sight. It’s right here that you decide to stop wondering why it’s happening to you and to just let it sweep you off your feet.

“I love you Bradley.” You whisper to the dark. You love him. Simple in theory, and impossible to explain.

“I love you too (Y/N).” He whispers back. You sit up so you can look at his face, well try to look at his face anyways.

“You don’t have- I don’t want to freak you out.” You can feel the panic start to rise in your chest.

“I’m not, I promise.” His hand gently cups your cheek, bringing your face to his as he sits up to meet you halfway. It’s a gentle kiss, warm and fuzzy and full of love.

______

One alarm blaring is bad enough, but two scares the daylights out of you.

“Take it easy baby.” Bradley chuckles as he quickly taps his off.

“Why is yours so loud?” You playfully whine as you shut yours off.

“Sometimes I’m dead asleep so i don't hear it. But I set it early, so we don't have to get up quite yet.” He pulls you to his chest, pressing himself flush against you.

“Dreaming about me last night.” You tease, wiggling your ass against his morning wood.

“Been dreaming about you since that night at the bar.” He mumbles into your neck, placing a string kisses down it as his hand slides under your shirt to play with your boob. He gently kneads it, pinching your nipple until it’s hardened.

“Well, that’s flattering Lieutenant.” You giggle.

“You tellin me if I reach into your underwear right now, you’re not dripping for me?” His fingers softly brush against your side, palm settling against your hip, scrunching your shorts higher and higher until his fingers reach the hem of your underwear.

“Bradley, please.” You whisper, hooking one leg over his so you’re spread open for him. His hand moves your underwear aside, cupping your mound, gently teasing the curls before running one finger through your folds.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, hips automatically bucking into your ass. His fingers start gently rubbing your bud, trying a few different things.

“Like this.” You take his hand and guide his finger around just the way you like it. Your back arches in anticipation, fingers reaching for his hair. He gently rocks against your ass, loving the way you're wrapped around him.

“Faster.” You whisper. He’s not sure if you mean his fingers or his hips so he does both, which by the moan that pushes past your lips he knows was correct.

Your body jolts as your orgasm hits, the warmth spreading through you like hot tea on a cold winter's day. He slows his hand as he feels you relax. “Bradley…” you croak.

“Mmhmm?” He hums against your shoulder.

“You gotta finish too.” You smile, grinding into him.

“No, I’ll be fine.” He whispers. You can tell he’s practically willing his body not to push himself over the edge, but you won’t stand for it.

“Bradley, if you don’t cum like this, I’m going to turn around and stick my hand in your pants.” You feel his smile against your shoulder but he doesn’t say anything. You roll your eyes, unhooking your leg and trapping his hand between your thighs as you flip to face him. “Or is that what you want? To cum in my hand.” You tease. He gives a nervous chuckle as your hand slides down his toned stomach to his very pronounced erection.

“What was your dream?” You whisper into the shell of his ear, your hand slowly working up and down his length. “I want to know.” You hum, kissing his neck.

“Thought about what it would feel like to be inside y-you.” He groans as your hand picks up speed. “How pretty you’d be when I make you-“ his hips jerk into your hand and you feel the stickiness of his cum cover your palm. “-cum.” He sighs, pressing his mouth to yours. You hear his second alarm go off and unattach your lips.

“Maybe we can find out later?” You smile. He eagerly nods as the two of you get out of bed to get ready for work.

_______

Tag list:

@dilfsandtherapy

@kajjaka

@scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir

#weasleywinchester #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x plus size reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x plus size reader #rooster top gun #top gun reader insert #top gun maverick #miles teller

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

Text

Where I’m From

Top Gun: Maverick - Hangman x f!reader [no use of y/n]

3.6k | Jake Seresin could handle lots of things. He was the only naval aviator of his time to have a confirmed kill - two, actually. He kept forgetting about that second one. It was newly under his belt, and, considering the circumstances surrounding it, he hadn’t felt too inclined to brag about it. Still, the point remained. Jake could carry the weight of taking a life, of saving a life, and of putting his life in harms way.

What he could not handle was the weeping girl in front of him, brushing away tears on their first date.

===

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

CW: swearing, kissing, mentions of past relationships (neglect)

Author’s Note: Is Jake slightly ooc? Yes. I just wholeheartedly believe this man would be a gentleman on a date. Also, soft!Jake >>>>>>> || cross-posted on Ao3

Part Two

===

“You’re early.” You said, opening the door wider and waving him in once you realized it was Hangman (a story you were hoping to pry out of him on your date tonight) standing across the threshold. “I’m almost done, I promise. I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize, sugar.” Something about the careless way he slung around terms of endearment like that heated your cheeks.

Jake stepped in with that same easy grin he was wearing when he’d asked you out. You look good, but I think you’d look even better sitting across from me at dinner tonight. Cocky, arrogant. A toothpick rolling back and forth between his teeth. Not your type at all, but it had been so long since you last dated someone.

So, when the blond in a military uniform slid into the booth across from you this afternoon at lunch you agreed. Without a single care for all the alarm bells ringing and desperate reminders from your subconscious that all men sucked.

And now you were standing in front of him with a half-zipped dress, half done hair, and nerves that made your hands shake so badly it was hard to finish anything at all. “Give me 5 minutes?”

Jake nodded, then, as though remembering why he’d gotten here so early to begin with, he moved his hand from behind his back and presented a small bouquet of flowers to you. Simple and sweet. “These are yours, darlin’.”

The accent brought you back to reality. Tied you down to earth and kept you from tearing up. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m a gentleman, mostly,” Jake said, “so tell me where I can find a vase and I’ll get this set up. You go get ready.”

“Under the sink.” You waved your hand off in the general direction of the kitchen eyes still a bit too wide in shock. Someone had given you flowers. A complete stranger had given you flowers.

The stranger made towards where you vaguely gestured to but came halting to a stop shortly after. “Problem, doll?” He asked, turning back towards you with slight concern. Warranted concern, really, seeing that the noise that just escaped you made you sound like you’d been stabbed in the side.

“I’m sorry-”

“You need to stop apologizing.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You ignored the look he shot you. “I- just… can you take your shoes off? Please?”

An easy smile crossed onto his face. More human than those prideful grins his flirting game so heavily relied on before. “Yes, I can do that.” Jake laughed, but it wasn’t rude or condescending. A kind-hearted, ‘I am so glad that’s all the problem was’ kind of laugh. “Go get ready so I can make everyone in that restaurant jealous that I’m takin’ the most beautiful lady out on a date.”

There wasn’t much arguing with that. You’d tried to come up with something witty to say to him as you finished getting ready, but every time you thought of what Jake had said to you your heart would beat a little faster and your head would spin. It was pointless. You could hardly remember your name when you looked his square in the face. If you were to actually stare into those green eyes of his you’d surely melt into the floor. Exactly what happened when you finally emerged from your room, shoes in hand, and let him at the front door.

Jake had been lingering in the foyer staring at all the pictures on your wall and the decorations that comprised who you wanted the world to see you as. A bit to honestly now that your eyes followed his to the goofy selfies or the ‘boofa deez nut’ candle you’d gotten as a gag gift and proudly displayed as a middle finger to the friend that had gotten it for you. The embarrassment should have killed you, but instead it was Jake’s eyes flicking up to meet yours that did you in.

You stumbled slightly. In your attempt to cover the movement to make it seem like you were bending over to put your shoes on, you’d stumbled more. Jake moved forward almost unconsciously to steady you, let out a low whistle and said, “You clean up nice.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve seen me looking like half a disaster.”

“If that’s half a disaster, then you truly do put the ‘hot’ in ‘hot mess’, sugar.” Jake laughed and opened the door for you. He held it open, closed it behind you, and waited as you locked it. Then walked with you to the car to open the door for you there as well.

You thanked him, short and polite and completely caught off guard. Everything he said in that short walk from your front door to his car completely escaped you. Something about how you made a casual dress look like the most elegant outfit on earth. Just another charismatic comment to deepen the warm pool in your stomach. As though there weren’t enough butterflies flapping around in there already.

“You can pick the music.” Jake nodded toward the radio.

“I like classic rock,” you said. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

Jake grinned. “After my own heart. See, I knew there was somethin’ about you.” He turned slightly to put his arm around the passenger seat as he reversed, and you caught a whiff of his cologne. Subtle. Yet entirely welcomed, up until he winked at you.

Maybe this was all a game to him. Jake seemed like the type to charm a girl and leave her heartbroken. The prying eyes at the counter back at the diner had almost confirmed that for you. Whispers and nudging that you had wished you’d seen before you agreed to go out with him. This whole evening could very well be some big bet for the hot shots in the Navy to cash out on. All at your expense.

“So.” Jake cleared his throat. “You from around here?”

Once again, an awkward reminder that the two of you knew nothing about one another besides your names and addresses. Well, just Jake knew your address. He’d insisted on picking you up.

“No,” you told him. “Midwest, born and raised.”

“Stir crazy so you moved out West?”

“Something like that.” You nodded. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’re from down south?”

Jake laughed. Your heart skipped yet another beat and if it didn’t stop doing that you were going to have to schedule an appointment with your doctor before the night was out. “You’re a good shot.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Texas.”

“Oh, a cowboy?”

“Hardly.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the best of the radio. “I know my way around a horse, but I like to think I belong in the sky.”

“So, I should call you flyboy instead?” You ask with a slight giggle to your voice. More nervous than anything but there’s no mistaking the way the corners of Jake’s lips pull back at the sound. You want to take a detour to base just to ask those friends of his if he normally smiles this much or if you can allow yourself to feed into the delusion that someone as stunning as him saw you in a rundown diner having lunch and was so enamored by you that he simply had to ask you out.

“Only if you put a ‘my’ in front of it.”

Conversation flowed easily after that. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long but still let you have a good idea of who Jake was. A flirt, first and foremost. He couldn’t go thirty seconds without calling you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sugar’ and any way Jake could make a comment about how wonderful you were, he was taking it. You stared at him the entire ride, studying his profile. He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. Old-fashioned in the way where you and your friend would flip through history books and point out who you would have fallen in love with during that time period. If someone were to show you a grainy photo of a navy pilot, his was the kind of face you’d imagine.

He pulled into a spot, and you immediately set to unbuckling and letting yourself out of the car.

“Ah,” Jake said as he shut off the car, “stay where you are.” And he hopped out to jog to the passenger side. “Here you are, darlin’.” He opened the door, offering you a hand, and helping you out of the car.

“Do they teach chivalry classes down in Texas?” You ask. He’s too busy positioning your hand on his bicep and leading you into the restaurant, where he holds open the door for you again, to answer.

“Sersin. Party of two,” he tells the host, who leads you to a table with a single, unlit candle in the middle.

Jake pulls your chair out for you, then settles in across from you in a strange mimicry of earlier today. You half expect him to spew the same cheesy pickup line but instead he fishes a lighter out of his pocket to light the candle.

“That’s better,” he says and turns his full attention on you with a grin. “So, tell me everything there is to know about you.”

You laugh, genuine this time. “About me?” He nods. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m kind of boring.”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious! My life is eat, sleep, work, repeat.”

“So is mine.”

“Yeah but you’re flying fighter jets and I’m too nervous to ask my boss for a promotion when I’m doing the work of two people.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “The work of two people, huh? You’re a hard worker, and I’m guessing you’re damn good at what you do, too. I wouldn’t call that boring.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the compliment brings a smile to your face. “I guess you could say that.”

“Okay, so, you’re hardworking, talented, and beautiful. What else is there to know about you, doll?”

“Actually, flyboy, I want to know why they call you Hangman.” You lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. “That’s what everyone was calling you earlier today.”

He nods, leaning back in his seat. You drink in the movement. The way Jake squaring his shoulders has his nice green button down straining against his muscles and how he runs his tongue over his lips as he conjures up a thought.

“The real story, Seresin.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“You remember my last name?”

“I texted it to my friend just in case you were secretly trying to murder me.”

He nods slowly. “You can never be too careful now a days.”

“Yup.”

“Well, you can tell your friend the only reason I’ll be making you scream is because my tongue is magic.” The waiter chooses that moment to appear over your shoulder asking if you and Jake are ready to order anything, leaving you a stuttering mess as you struggle to order something to drink. You can hardly form the word water to the point that Jake does it for you. “Thanks,” he tells the waiter as he walks off. Then he focuses his full attention back on you. “You held yourself together well.”

“Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” By the way he doesn’t deny it, you can tell you have him pegged. “Back to your true story.”

“It’s not as interesting as the one everyone else likes to tell.”

“I don’t care, flyboy. I want to know you, not everyone else.”

Interest sparks in his green eyes. “If you insist.” He leans forward, mimicking the way you’re on the edge of your seat. “In flight school we were running drills out in an old hangar when this nasty storm rolled him. Hurricane level winds and shit. Came out of nowhere. None of us were feeling too inclined to make a run for it in that kind of rain so we figured we’d hole up in the hangar for a few hours. There was an old radio that worked for a little bit, and we figured there was no time like the presence to get some maintenance on this jet done until the weather down, but the power went out.

“We had some flashlights and lanterns and things so it’s not like we were totally in the dark, but the stories ran out fast. We were bored out of minds. So, I recommended playing hangman. Something easy and simple ‘cause you can’t get too competitive with these guys. They take it way too far.”

“By them,” you cut in, “I’m guessing you mean you?”

He nods. “I won every single round and stumped them with all my puzzles.”

“Impressive,” you say, “I bet that pissed them all off.”

“Let’s just say everyone else’s version of why they call me Hangman holds a slight hint of disdain.”

The rest of the dinner flows naturally. You two talk without a single lull in conversation. He makes you laugh. He continues to compliment you every chance he can. But the real thing that works its way under your skin and lodges itself in your chest is the way he offers to switch plates with you when you take a bite of your meal and realize you don’t like it.

“No, Jake, you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I’ll just deal with it.”

“Nonsense. It was my recommendation anyway.” Jake stares at you, jaw set, and voice firm. “I am not having you starving on this date. Give me your plate.”

And so, you swap plates with him taking a bite out of the steak he’d been raving about in the car when something in you breaks. You can hear how excited his tone of voice was. “It’s hard to get a decent steak when you’re on base.” He had told you. “The chow hall is okay if you like shoe leather and all, but now I hardly have time to make a decent cut of meat for myself.”

He gave it up so easily. The minute you set down your fork after three or four bites. Jake was telling you he’d switch. It… it was too much and you couldn’t help the sweeping off tears pushing at the back of your throat.

“Ah, shit.” He whispered. “Do you not want the steak? I can order you something else-”

You cut him off with the wave of your hand, which you quickly used to press over your mouth and stifle and unflattering sob. “No,” you whimpered, “this is perfect. Everything is perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Jake asked. “Because most ladies don’t start crying on dates when things are going well.”

You could tell he meant well. There was a joking lot to his voice and the bastard grin was back in his face but it only reminded you of how out of your element you were right now.

“I’m sorry.”

“I already told you to cut that out, sugar.”

“I know.” You sniffled, but tears kept falling. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Jake softened a bit. He reached out across the table, palm up waiting for you to slip your hand in his. When you did, he squeezed softly. “Want to talk about it?”

With your free hand you swiped at your cheeks. “I haven’t been on a first date in- actually, I’ve never even been on a date.”

There was no denying the way Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re tellin’ me men aren’t breakin’ down your door to take a pretty thing like you out on dates?” You shake your head. “See, that’s the issue with California folk, they’re idiots.”

He grins gently at you, which you return in full. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.”

“I’ve had a couple boyfriends, but we never did relationship stuff.” Jake’s brows furrow in confusion and you rush to explain. “They would never want to leave the house. If I wanted to go out it would have to be by myself. They never asked me on dates or called me ‘darlin’’-” Jake rolls his eyes at your imitation of his accent- “or tell me I look beautiful. None of them ever held a door open for me. This is the first time I’ve even gotten flowers…” you trail off and bite down on your lip.

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” you fill the silence. “Everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with has cheated on me. I guess I’ve always been a side chick or a rebound or whatever and you don’t really take side chicks out on dates. I always figured I wasn’t worth the romantic stuff, but there you are taking me out to a nice dinner and swapping dinners with me and… and I got overwhelmed.”

Jake is staring at you with a strange mix of anger and confusion. The gaze is lacking pity, which you appreciate. If he were to think of you as a poor girl who couldn’t land a date, you’d walk home before finishing this dinner.

He says your name so softly for the first time that night. There’s a thousand times more emotion in that name than all the pet names he’s been calling you.

“This isn’t romance.” The words make your heart sink. “This is the bare minimum. Basic kindness, sweetheart. You deserve this and nothing less. I- it makes me so frustrated to hear you talking about a relationship where some asshole let you believe you didn’t deserve to be treated like a princess.” Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he talks, anger bleeding in but not raising his voice to an unacceptable level. “Where I come from this isn’t chivalry. This is the way things are done. If I’m taking a beautiful girl like you out on a date, you better believe I’m going to make sure you know that I’m the lucky one.”

More tears prick at your eyes. Your bottom starts to quiver and when you open your mouth to apologize for getting weepy again Jake shakes his head at you. “I don’t know which one of those ducks told you that you had to apologize all the time, and I’m sure it was one of them, but you never have to apologize for things like this, doll. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re allowed to talk about them.”

“Yeah, but it’s not good etiquette to bring up your exes on a first date.” You slip your hand from his to better wipe at your face. This sinking feeling of shame seeps into you. You probably look like just as much of a wreck as you were turning this date into.

“So this won’t be our first date, then.” Jake says it so simply. The easiest solution in the wonderful despite it not making sense in the slightest.

“What?”

“We’ll call this afternoon our first date. I stole food for your plate and took a couple sips of your drink, so it counts.” Jake grins at you. “This is our second date, which means it is completely okay to talk about your exes.”

With a small sniffle you manage to meet his eye again. The intensity that he looks at you has your face warming up again. “I have to say, Jake. I think I’m the lucky one tonight.”

“You’re not sitting on my end of the table.”

===

Bonus:

Jake insisted on opening the door for you again when he pulled up to your house after dinner. The two do you had lingered as long as humanly possible, but the wait staff looked as though they were going to run the pair of you through with a kitchen knife, so you reluctantly chose to head back towards home.

“Thank you.” You grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car.

“Gives me an excuse to walk you to your door, pretty girl.”

“Oh, so this was all part of your masterplan?”

He laughs and stops under the light of your porch light. You’re fiddling with your keys, not too eager to open the door and end the night. Jake steps closer towards you, saying your name again for the second time that night. It’s a magnet, pulling you towards him so that his hands can settle at your waist. Those green eyes of his flick down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“I was waiting for you to ask that.”

Jake slides a hand from your waist to cup your cheek and he brings his lips to yours. No kiss you’ve ever had feels the way this one does. Right. Even your long-term relationships were twinged with shame or doubt. Kissing Jake feels like forgetting your own name is completely normal because you want to be washed up in this feeling of bliss for forever. He pulls away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, and it takes him a moment to finally open his eyes.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, voice cracking slightly.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want you to think I’m only trying to hook up with you.”

You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. Once again Jake takes a few seconds afterwards to fully look at you. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re having hesitations about sleeping with me on our second date and that’s something only gentlemen do.”

Jake laughs. The sound is like the bliss of your kiss personified. You want to drown in it.

“Plus, I think you promised me that I’d have a story to tell my friend about how good your tongue is… or do you only use your mouth to talk big game?”

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Unlock that damn door right now, dollface.”

You thought he’d never ask.

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