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lives-in-midgard · 2 days ago

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I love everything about it! 🥰

It's so sweet. I love how Bob is there for reader and the love confession 🥹💗

Basking In Your Light - Bob Floyd X Fem! Reader

Pairing: Bob Floyd X Fem!Bartender Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Love Confession.

Summary: You've always been the one who tried to make peoples days brighter, make people know that someone cared. But when someone say's you're too much, Bob notices, and he's quick to tell you, you're anything but too much.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,931

Warnings: Men in the bar being complete assholes and making a somewhat sexual comments!! Self deprecating thoughts from reader, readers over thinking. No use of Y/N, no description of what reader looks like. Reader is often described to light up a room and is very outgoing.

You'd always liked being a bit loud, a bit chaotic, and you just always liked making people smile.

Not in a flashy kind of way but the sort of way people would recognize you for your quick wit, remembering your distinct laugh that always broke through quiet moments, the way you were always cracking a joke to make someone smile if you noticed they were having a bad day, the way you could light up a whole room without trying too hard.

The Hard Deck was often like your home most nights, and you wore your charm and heart on your sleeve. Always available for everyone around to see. You’d mastered the quick banter, the soft yet flirty teasing that pilots would often do with you, the flipping off bottle caps into the trash can behind your back when you handed someone a beer. You just loved making people smile, you liked being the reason they felt at ease, like they could breathe a bit easier, like they had someone to confide in, even if they didn’t know anyone in the room.

But tonight, you just felt deflated. You’d had a shit-show of a day so far. You overslept entirely, making your day much shorter than intended, your errands got pushed off to tomorrow for the sake of trying to get through your day, and your check engine light in the car came on again, something you knew you couldn’t afford to have breakdown right now.

You’d barely gotten through the first hour of your shift when you'd overheard it, some smug voice from the back of the bar, his voice low and sharp like it was meant to slip under your skin and sting as hard as it could with the amount of venom in the man's voice.

“She’s a bit much huh? Doesn’t know when to fucking shut up and quit that polite act of hers. Girls like that always need the attention, if you know what I mean.”

You didn’t even see who said it, and to be frank you didn’t want to as you heard the mens howling laughter in the background. You’ve dealt with your fair share of things as a bartender, from creepy men who won’t leave you alone, to drunk backhanded comments that would be enough to make a grown man weep. These comments typically never bothered you, always deeming yourself an eternal optimist, always seeing the good in people. But this, this one stung away more.

You felt it sting hot and sharp in your throat, your eyes trying to not tear up as you quickly blinked them away. And you’d brushed it off, at least on the surface level. But little by little you started unwinding your well presented cover as your shoulders curled in, your smile dulled and the sparkle normally always present in your eyes dimmed as you moved through your shift like you were on autopilot, not wanting to cause anything as you knew there was a whole squad of naval aviators just mere feet away that would go to war for you if they noticed something was wrong, much less if they had heard what the drunk bolstering men had said about you.

But Bob noticed, Bob always noticed. He hadn’t said anything yet, he was sitting in his usual corner near the pool table with the rest of the Daggers, a ginger ale in hand, watching you with those soft baby blue eyes you tried not to think about too often. He hadn't seen or heard what caused you to become a shell of yourself, but he noticed one minute you were cracking jokes with some regulars and the next your shoulders were hunched and your face read of hurt.

You liked Bob Floyd, a lot. Maybe too much, considering how little you actually knew him, only having the shared conversations, lingering glances, and the way his ears flushed pink when you made a joke that landed right, to go off of. But you knew he was different from the others, especially in the way he treated you. He was quiet, and so kind to you, always offering you the sweetest of smiles, or asking if you wanted him to walk you back to your car on nights when the bar would get especially rowdy. He was easy to be around, And for some reason he made your heart race in a way that no one else ever could.

When your break finally rolled around, you told Penny you were taking your fifteen and all but slipped out the back door into the warm night air. The ocean breeze was warm, brushing past your arms as you leaned on the railing and stared out at the distant horizon, letting out a long sigh. You were so tired of pretending things didn’t get to you, like the things people said to you just because you were so joyful and optimistic didn’t hurt you.

The door creaked behind you a few minutes later and you didn’t need to look, you could just feel the energy, and you already knew it was him.

“Hey” Bob said gently, not in a questioning manner like he was going to interrogate you, but rather like he was asking for permission to come be with you. You didn’t speak at first, you just let him come stand beside you, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans as you both stared out at the moon glistening on the ocean waves.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment. You gave him a half hearted shrug, your body deflated as you muttered a soft “M’fine, you should go back into the bar, i’m sure the Daggers miss you.”

He huffed a quiet laugh shaking his head “You’re a terrible liar” That earned a ghost of a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes from you “So I’ve been told” You muttered softly. He leaned forward on the railing, arms folded as his gaze is still set on the ocean “You’re not like yourself tonight, everything okay?”

You swallowed harshly, that hitch in your throat looming near, trying to blink away the tears that have reappeared as you look down at your shoes. “M’just tired.”

Bob turned his head to glance at you. “You sure?” You exhaled slowly. “Someone made a comment earlier, about how I’m too much, that I don’t know when to shut up, that I'm just asking for a certain type of attention” You laughed out as you did quotation marks with your fingers, but it wasn’t an amused sound. “Guess it got stuck in my head.”

Bob was silent for a second, and then, quietly asked “Do you know who said it?” You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me” he said the firmest you’ve ever heard his voice., a clear difference from how he normally talks to you “Because whoever said that clearly doesn’t know what the hell they’re talking about, and needs to be taken down a few pegs.” You turned to look at him, your eyes glancing over his face, there was a fierceness in the way his jaw clenched, a quiet tension in the lines of his brow, as his baby blues seemed darkened, the moon seemingly reflecting out of them.

“I just” you started, then stopped, not wanting to break down on the man you have the world's biggest crush on, but then you see the way he’s looking at you, like he’s encouraging you to talk and open yourself back up, not wanting you to become a shell of yourself again. “I’ve always been this way, you know?” You continued “Loud. I like to talk a lot, I laugh a lot, I always try to fill the space, and I've always typically liked that about myself. I thought it meant I was doing something right, trying to make people happy, feel better. But when someone calls it too much it makes me wonder if I should just shut up sometimes, just be a bit quieter, more reserved. Maybe I’d be an easier pill to swallow if I was like that.” You say looking down and picking at your nail beds.

Bob’s head tilted slightly, his gaze locking with yours looking almost offended by your words “You shouldn’t have to shrink yourself to make other people comfortable” he said firmly “You hear me?” he asked again, softer this time. “You don’t have to dim yourself just because some people can’t handle your light.”

It hit you harder than you expected, when you looked at him, like really looked, and your chest ached. Because here was this man, the man who has always been nothing but kind to you, always gentle, always observant, and he was standing beside you and seeing you exactly as you were. He didn’t see you as too much, he didn’t see you as too loud, he saw you as you, and he didn’t want to change that.

“I love that about you” he added, and your breath caught in your throat, as your eyes winded. “Love what?” You asked in a confused tone, wondering how this man in front of you was real.

“The way that you fill a room, the way your voice carries over the music, the way you laugh without holding back and sometimes you snort and immediately try to cover your mouth.” He smiled a little shy at what he seemed to be admitting to you. “ But what I really love about you is the way you make everyone feel like they belong.”

You felt something crumble in your chest, it felt like your defensive walls were being brought down in front of you. The words settled between you like a secret, warm and glowing. You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched again, before softly muttering a quiet “Really?”

He nodded, his voice matching yours as he whispers. “Yeah.” The silence stretched, but it wasn’t awkward or felt like you needed to fill it. It was filled with something heavier than words could convey. And when he stepped closer, you didn’t pull away. His hand brushed yours on the railing, fingers hesitating slightly. You turned to face him, your heart pounding so loud you were convinced he could hear it, your throat dry as you whispered “Bob?”

He looked at you like you were something incredible, like your presence was enough for him to get lost in. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now” he said, “But you’re you, you light up every room you’re in, and that whole team in there adores you almost as much as I do, and I didn’t want to make things weird if you didn’t feel the same.” A small laugh bubbled in your throat caught somewhere between disbelief and relief at his admission “Bob Floyd,” you gasped “Do you have a crush on me?”

He grinned that soft smile of his that made butterflies appear in your stomach, his cheeks a soft shade of pink as he responded “Yeah. I do.” You blinked at him, stunned for a moment, and then you stepped forward, and when you leaned up and moved in, he met you halfway.

It was gentle, warm and steady, just like him. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheek softly as he kissed you like he saw who you were, It wasn’t rushed like most kisses felt, It felt like something new entirely, it made your whole body feel like it was glowing. And when you pulled back, you were smiling for the first time that night. “Me too,” you whispered, as you were catching your breath.

He blinked, before grinning wide. “Yeah?” He asked with that smile stuck on his face. “Yeah” You let your forehead rest against his, “I always thought you were too good to be real.” you muttered softly, eyes meeting his. “You’re the one who lights up rooms, remember. I think you're the one who’s too good to be real.” he murmured, still so close.

“Well” you said as your brushed your nose against his “maybe now I’ll let you light up a few of mine, Bob Floyd.” and that made him laugh, as he kissed your temple like it was instinct to him.

And as the two of you stood outside beneath the warm string lights with the waves crashing softly in the background, a gentle sea-breeze engulfing you, and your fingers entwined you realized something.

You never had needed to dim your light for other people,

not when Bob Floyd had been waiting all along to bask in it.

#sara'sficrecs #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader

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lives-in-midgard · 2 days ago

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Omg his smile 😍

I can't with his smile- IT'S JUST SO CUTE

#he is so cute #danny 🥰#danny ramirez #danny ramirez pictures

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lives-in-midgard · 2 days ago

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I'm so glad that you liked it!! 💗

Joaquin is already thinking about the perfect way to tell her 🥹

Promise

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x reader

Summary: A few months had passed since Joaquin's accident and he starts to go on missions again. One night you have a nightmare and he is there for you.

Warnings: Nightmare, talking about Joaquin's accident

Word Count: 900

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you like this! 💗

Divider made by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

It was in the middle of the night when you woke up from a nightmare. It was the same dream that you had a few days ago.

It was about Joaquin. About his accident that he had a few months ago.

He started training and working with Sam again, which made you scared that something like that would happen again. You always knew that he would start flying and going on missions again, you were so proud of him, but you were also scared. Scared to lose your boyfriend and best friend.

The last time you had the nightmare it wasn’t as bad as this time, you could calm down faster, and Joaquin didn’t wake up. But this time it was different, it felt more real.

When you woke up you were shaking. You quickly sat up in bed, with your knees pressed against your chest and tears started to run down your cheek. When Joaquin woke up without you in his arms, he turned around. As Joaquin heard you sniffle, he immediately was wide awake. He turned on the lamp on the bedside table and looked over to you. The moment Joaquin saw you sitting there, shaking and crying he got so worried. He slowly moved closer to you, nervous that he would make it worse.

“Mi vida?” Joaquin whispered softly and you slowly looked up at him. It broke his heart to see you so sad.

“Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?” He asked worried.

“Nightmare.” You mumbled and reached for his hand. Joaquin gently took your hand, his heart hurt as he saw the tears on your face. He brought your hand to his mouth and softly kissed the back of your hand, then he started to gently draw some circles on the back of it.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

“Come here.” Joaquin said and you moved closer to him. You laid your head on his chest and held him tight. Joaquin pulled you closer and began to gently rub your back.

“I’ve got you…I’m right here, sweetheart.” He whispered while you held him tight.

“You’re okay, mi vida…Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.” Joaquin continued to hold you as long as you needed him to. He whispered some more comforting words while giving you kisses. Being in his arms and hearing him talk helped you feel better. After a while you stopped crying and began to calm down, but you didn’t let go of him and neither did he.

“There you go amor.” He whispered and was glad that you started to feel better. He continued to hold you and with every minute you started to relax more. As you started to relax you started to slowly lose your grip around him. Joaquin was relieved but was still worried about you. After a few minutes he gave you another kiss on the forehead and then looked down at you.

“You feeling a bit better sweetheart?” He asked and you slowly nodded. Then you looked up at him and he softly started to wipe away some of your remaining tears.

“I dreamt about your accident.” You suddenly mumbled. His hand was still on your cheek when he heard what you said.

“I’m so sorry…I’m sorry that you had to dream about that.” He said, reached for your hand and intertwined it with yours.

“I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay, amor. It was just a nightmare.” He said softly and you nodded. As he saw the look in your eyes, he knew that you were still thinking about your dream, his accident that happened a few months ago. He knew how his accident had affected you, how worried you were about him. Joaquin is so glad that he had you by his side through everything. You were always there for him, comforting him, helping him with things and you were always trying to make him smile when he was feeling down. You are always there for him, and Joaquin loves you so much for that.

“Hey mi vida, look at me.” He whispered and you looked back at him.

“I know that I can’t promise you that I won’t ever get hurt again but I promise you that I will always do my best to come back home to you. Always.” He said as he looked into your eyes and held your hand. You gave him a soft smile and then said, “I know you will, babe.” He gave you a soft smile back and then kissed your cheek.

“I will always find my way back home to you.”

“Te amo mucho.” (I love you so much) He whispered into your ear, and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Love you too.”

“Come here, let’s cuddle a bit more.” He said and gently pulled you closer. You made yourself comfortable in his arms and then he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Try to sleep, I’m not going anywhere.” He said and you laid there for a bit longer just enjoying being in his arms. After a while you fell asleep in the loving embrace of your boyfriend.

“No puedo esperar a casarme contigo algún día.” (I can’t wait to marry you one day) He mumbled when he noticed that you fell asleep in his arms.

#commentreblog

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lives-in-midgard · 2 days ago

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Captain America: Civil War // Captain America: Brave New World

#sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #captain america civil war #captain america brave new world #marvel gifs

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lives-in-midgard · 2 days ago

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This is so good! 🥹

i would take anythingggg Jake Seresin x reader 😍

Pretty Hurricane | j. s.

Jake Seresin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Stalking (not Jake lol), cursing.

Author’s Note: This…this got away from me. Sorry it took so long to write lmao. GIF from @tomcriuse

Talk to Me! | AO3

Every Friday night, like clockwork, Jake Seresin waits for her to show up for her shift at the Hard Deck.

And every Friday night, like clockwork, he finds himself moseying up to the bar to order a round of drinks.

And while he does that, every Friday night, he flirts with her.

And every Friday night, like clockwork, she tells him to fuck off.

This Friday night is no different.

"Hey there, Hurricane," he says, that soft Texas drawl, pulling her attention immediately. She hates that it does, because she hates that she finds him attractive, but she can't help it. Also hates that his stupid nickname for her makes her feel like a part of his life somehow. "A round for the boys, and water for Baby on Board."

"You could stand to be nicer to Lieutenant Floyd, Bagman," she comments, moving to start grabbing the beers from the cooler for him.

“Oh, please —all in good fun,” he reassures, but it doesn’t sound sincere in any way shape or form. He leans on the bar, looking her over slowly. “Why's it matter to you? Gotta thing for Bob?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. There’s no reason to take the bait, because he’s going to keep goading her anyway. Sliding the beers over to him, she holds out her hand expectantly.

“Y’know, usually I get a little more outta ladies before they ask for my wallet,” he teases, fishing it from his pocket and handing her his card to start the tab. As she moves to take it, he pulls it out of her reach with a smirk. That’s the first mistake he makes tonight. “What’re you gonna give me in return?”

“A swift kick in the ass?” She offers with her brow raised, putting her hands on her hips. “Oh, better yet —I won’t have you permanently banned for skipping out on your tab. Fair deal, I think.”

Jake puts his hand over his heart like she’s wounded him, and she just rolls her eyes. His flirtations don’t get very far —they never do, honestly —but now she’s getting annoyed that he’s holding up the bar on a Friday night.

“Just give me your number,” he says, and he makes his second mistake of the night.

His phone, which he’s pulled out of his pocket, is sitting on the bar. He’s too caught up in his flirting to realize his mistake; especially when she puts her hand on his to take the phone. Just barely —just a soft touch, like a caress, to distract him. For a moment, he really thinks she’s gonna give him her number.

But then, just as quick as he snatched the card from her, she rings the bell.

His face falls immediately and he yanks his hand away, groaning. The bar erupts into cheers, but Jake is glaring at her in annoyance. All she does is smile at him sweetly as she snatches his card out of his hand.

“You know, I think I’ll take you up on that drink,” she teases, “Since you’re paying for everyone’s anyway.”

She watches as his jaw clenches, but he takes the beers for his team and walks off without another word. Penny sidles up beside her, smirking lightly as she pours a beer.

“He’s gonna complain about that all night,” the older woman says.

“Oh I fucking hope he does,” she laughs, getting back to work.

She’s worked at the Hard Deck for a little over two years. She’s met a lot of people –creeps, regulars, tourists. You name it, she’s interacted with and served them. And most of the time, none of them give her any issues. Sometimes they’re a little too forward –like Jake, but she knows he’s harmless. Sometimes they’re a bit skeevy, trying to get her to come home with them. But again, usually she can handle it.

Tonight, she thinks, is one of those nights where she gets a weird one.

He’s nice at first; complimenting her outfit and tattoos. Grinning at her like he’s just being nice. And he is nice –not in a creepy way. Younger guy, her age maybe. He talks about his classes and his degree –they go to the same college, and he thinks they have a class together. She offers a half-ass response –maybe they do, but truthfully she wouldn’t know because she doesn’t talk to anyone in her classes –but she’s only half paying attention to him as he continues to speak.

Then he asks about her, even when they get busier. Asks about her schedule for classes, but seems to know a little more than she thinks is normal for someone who has one class with her. Yeah, her program is small and her college classes are small, but this guy says he’s seen her on campus early in the morning getting coffee. Gets a little more pushy when she gives him clipped answers and pays closer attention to other patrons over him. When Jake comes up for his second round, she leans in a little closer to him –maybe giving the pilot some false expectations, but she figures that if this stranger sees her talking to someone like Jake, he’ll back off.

He does not.

He pays his tab, leaves an obscene tip that she’s certain he thinks will get something out of her.

Then he stays.

Even as the night wears down, as regulars slip out and the bar calms down. He just sits there, nursing the last beer that he ordered. Staring at her, watching her movements like he’s trying to understand something about her. Talking about the one class they have together. Guys like this don’t usually make her that uncomfortable, but between the knowledge he has about her school schedule and the knife she notices on his side, she doesn’t like the feeling she gets in her gut as she finishes up her side work.

Luckily, there’s still three people outside this guy –Bradshaw, Javy, and Jake –and she’s confident that if anything happens, those three would be there to help her. She spends the rest of the evening on the furthest side of the bar, closest to the aviators and as far from the stranger as she can. But there’s a tremble in her hands as she wipes out the glasses and wipes down the bar. She glances at the pilots more often than she usually does, hoping that maybe one of them will get the hint.

By the end of the night, it’s just her behind the bar and Jake, Coyote and Rooster playing darts. There’s a few stragglers —regulars who drink too much and are waiting to close out their tab. There’s one guy who’s been sitting at the bar all night though. Jake noticed him the second time he went up for a round —not someone he’s seen before. She hasn’t kicked him out yet, so Jake assumes she knows him somehow.

Except when the guy stays, even after he pays his tab. And when the regulars are leaving. Then Jake is very aware that she stays on the opposite side of the bar, away from him. Actually, he even catches her looking at him several times throughout the night –and while Jake is very confident in himself, he knows that she would rather choke on a cactus than flirt with him. Which is why he’s confused by her glances –until her eyes shift from him to the guy at the bar then back to him.

When Coyote and Rooster both call it night, shoving Jake some as they head out, he lingers. Saunters up to the bar, just him and this other guy, and the pretty Hurricane that he has a soft spot for –not that he’d ever admit it to her.

“Closin’ out finally, sugar,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the bar top.

The guy at the other side is glancing at them, like he’s sizing Jake up carefully. She’s side eyeing the guy, then looks up at Jake, taking his credit card out and sliding it across the bar with his check. And that’s when he sees it clear as day: hands trembling, eyes guarded. She’s afraid of this guy.

Without thinking too much about it, he takes her hand and grins at her. “You ridin’ home with me or we meetin’ back at the house, Hurricane?” He asks, sliding the check back to her.

She swallows hard, but plays along, squeezing his hand. “We can ride together –we can pick up my car tomorrow morning. Just waiting on you two to finish up.”

The guy narrows his eyes at her, but stands slowly. Then he’s leaving, hopefully deciding that whatever he had planned isn’t worth it now that Jake is involved somehow. As soon as the door shuts, she’s letting out a heavy sigh of relief and pulling away from him, crouching down on the floor behind the bar.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathes, clutching the edge of the bar like she’s about to fall over.

Jake stares for a moment before he peers over the bar down at her. “You okay?”

There’s a very uncomfortable laugh that escapes her lips, and Jake realizes that she’s breathing heavily with her eyes shut. There’s a second where he considers if he’s really the one she would want to help with this, but he realizes that there’s not really another option. Contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t actually leave anyone hanging –especially his favorite bartender, who looks like she’s about to have a breakdown on the floor.

He slips around the bar with ease, kneeling down beside her. Then he eases her to the floor, hand on her back as he leans her against him carefully. For a few minutes, he lets her sort of just sit there and get her bearings. Sits beside her and puts his arm around her shoulders, and she covers her face with her hands as she leans against him. Then he says her name –not her nickname, not some pet name but her actual name –and she looks up at him with tear rimmed and fearful eyes.

Jake can’t remember a time where he’s seen her this shaken –and he’s seen her deal with plenty of creeps.

“Talk to me,” he practically begs and he thinks that he sounds ridiculous –but he shoves the thought away. Reminds himself that he’s allowed to care. “What’d he do?”

“I…I think he knows me,” she explains, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “He said we have a class together, but I…I don’t know who he is. But he kept talking about how he sees me on campus all the time —we have a class together or something, and he saw…he saw that I was wearing my work shirt once and knew I worked here.”

Jake glances up for a moment, listening to make sure the door of the bar isn’t opening. He thinks, briefly, he should have locked it. But if this guy comes back, Jake is certain that he’ll go from two confirmed kills to three.

“I tried to ignore him, like I usually do with creeps,” she continues, and her voice is cracking as she speaks. He rubs her arm gently, pulling her closer instinctively. “But then he wouldn’t leave –just kept talking. Getting snappy if I wasn’t listening to him –I…I didn’t know what to do. And then he had a knife and I think…I don’t know I think he…,” but she didn’t finish speaking, covering her face again and starting to cry.

“What if he’s out there, waiting for me?” She cries, whole body shaking with sobs.

“I’ll handle him if he is,” Jake promises, standing up carefully and pulling her up with him. Then he grabs her bag from under the counter. “I’m gonna take you home, okay? I’m not lettin’ you walk out there alone, and I’m sure as hell not lettin’ you go home alone.”

There’s a shaky, almost painful laugh that escapes her lips as runs her hands through her hair. “I’m sure you’re just…thrilled that this is how you get me alone,” she says, and Jake makes a face as he takes her keys out of her bag. “All your flirting and it takes me being stalked for you to get me to go home with you. Get to play the hero.”

“Stop it,” he practically snaps, turning and looking down at her as he says her name seriously. He gets that she’s just trying to ease whatever anxiety she has; rationally, he knows she’s just trying to cope. But it pisses him off that she thinks so low of him.

She looks up at him with wide eyes and Jake is pointing down at her. “I’m not messin’ around about this –I get you hate me. You make it loud and fuckin’ clear –but this isn’t a joke. I’m not tryin’ to be a hero, Christ –I’m takin’ you home because if I don’t, I will find that guy and I will do something that will make him regret walkin’ into this bar.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but he’s shaking his head, taking her hand. Then he’s pulling her out of the bar. There’s two cars in the lot; his and hers. Which is definitely a good thing, because he’s certain that things would go very badly if that asshole was still there. That doesn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder, or pulling her closer to his side as a precaution, though. There’s no fight from her as he leads her to his truck and opens the door for her.

The drive is quiet. She’s still trembling –not as much, but he can see her hands shaking as she stares at her phone screen that’s lighting up the truck cab. When he pulls into his driveway, they sit there for a few minutes in silence. Like she’s afraid to get out, and she’s waiting for his next move. But he doesn’t move either, white knuckling his steering wheel.

“I don’t…hate you, you know,” she suddenly admits, but she’s not looking at him as she speaks. “You annoy the shit out of me, don’t get me wrong. But…but I don’t mean it when I say I hate you. I wouldn’t put up with your shit if I actually hated you.”

He almost scoffs, but instead shakes his head. “It’s your job to put up with my shit,” he reminds her, moving to open his door.

“Penny has literally offered to ban you from the bar for me, Jake,” she points out, finally looking up at him. Her hand is on his arm, stopping him from leaving. “On several occasions, she’s literally talked to Maverick about not letting you come back if I asked. And I tell her every time that I like arguing with you.”

He hesitates a moment, then slowly turns to look down at her. She looks annoyed with herself, like admitting that she doesn’t hate him is an inconvenience on her part. But something about the way she’s looking at him makes him soften some. Her touch helps, too.

“You like to argue with me?” He teases some, smirking down at her. Jake’s glad she’s back to biting back at him, even if it’s got no real venom behind it. Though, it seems it never did, if what she’s saying is true.

“Truthfully, I think I like pissing you off almost as much as you like pissing me off,” she offers, a small grin on her face in return. “But…I also know that you’re not actually a bad person,” she continues, and her hand drifts down his arm to take his hand. He lets her without argument, though he’s not sure if it’s because he wants to hold her hand or because he wants her to find comfort in him. Maybe it’s both. “I kept looking at you tonight because I knew that…if that guy did do something, you would step in immediately. And you did.”

“I wasn’t sure what his deal was at first,” he admits, glancing out the front window. “Thought you knew him; but when he didn’t leave, I didn’t like it. And when you kept glancin’ at me –I knew better. You don’t look at me like that ever; like you wanted somethin’ from me. Knew somethin’ was off.”

There’s another pause between them, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable this time. Then he pushes his door open, pulling away from her just long enough to open her door next. He’s offering his hand to her, because contrary to what anyone thinks, he’s a goddamn gentleman through and through.

“Let’s get you inside –we’ll figure out how to deal with this shit in the morning.”

She just nods, and takes his hand without argument. Doesn’t let go either, when she’s out of the truck and on solid ground again. He glances down at her for a second, but he knows that even if they’re going back and forth like this –she’s still shaken. Still freaked out by this guy who knows too much about her.

When he lets her into the house –nothing special, just a place outside the base he rents –she stops in the doorway.

“You good?” He asks, looking back at her with concern.

But she just nods, and he motions for her to follow him, leading her down the hall towards his bedroom. When he flicks the light on, she slowly steps inside, like this is some forbidden space she’s not allowed to be in. Jake wants to joke that she’s the first person that’s come in here fully dressed, but decides tonight is not the night to do that.

“I’ll crash on the couch tonight and you can stay in here. Bathroom’s across the hall, and you can borrow a shirt or something to sleep in,” he offers, motioning to the closet that’s half open. “Let me know if you need anything.”

She’s about to say something, but stops herself –instead just nodding and sitting on his bed with her hands in her lap. He’s not used to how quiet she’s being; she’s usually louder than he is, calling over the bar or yelling out orders. Everything she does commands attention, and that’s why he calls her a hurricane –she’s nothing if not a force to be reckoned with. But right now, she’s nothing like the girl he knows from the bar. What’s usually confident and snarky is subdued and tired, almost timid in her movements. It almost breaks his heart, honestly.

Her soft “thank you” doesn’t escape him, and he gives her a reassuring smile before shutting the door behind him. For a minute, he just stands there. Listening to her move through his room, opening his drawers to get something of his to wear. He tries not to imagine her taking her clothes off, or putting his on but it’s hard not to when he’s lingering outside his own bedroom door. Forcing himself to move, Jake drops down onto the couch and covers his face with his hands, groaning.

Halfway through the night, she shoots up out of sleep with a gasp and tears. Heart kicking against her ribcage, she tries to push away the nightmare –the guy from the bar, sitting outside her apartment, waiting for her –but it doesn’t help that in her fear-addled state, she doesn’t know where she is. She wakes up tangled in sheets that aren’t hers and clothes that don’t belong to her, and for a moment, she thinks she might scream.

But then she remembers where she is when she looks around –the uniforms in the closet, the bomber jacket tossed on the end of the bed, the shirt and boxers she wears, all of which linger with his cologne. And it grounds her back in reality; reminds her that Jake gave up his space for her just to feel safe. But even then, she’s near tears from nightmares and the fear of being alone.

Maybe that’s why she gets up and pads out of his room. At first, she considers just going into the bathroom and washing her face. But then television is on in the living room, and she can see him lounging against the arm of the couch instead of sleeping.

She hesitates just a bit before making her way to the living room, sitting on the floor at the end of the couch. He’s awake, and she can feel his eyes on her, but she doesn’t say anything as she focuses on whatever he’s watching —some old eighties flick that's just playing on cable. He sits up, making room for her without question. When she doesn’t move, though, he throws a pillow at her.

“What the fuck?” She complains, throwing the pillow back at him.

“Get off the floor,” he orders, though he has no real bite in his tone. “Why are you up?”

She mumbles under her breath about him being an asshole even now, but slides onto the couch and curls into herself. His eyes are on her still, and she can feel them practically burning through the side of her face.

“Well?” He asks, frowning at her.

“I had a nightmare,” she admits reluctantly, because saying it out loud sounds childish. “Got up, saw you were awake. Came out here. I can go back —,”

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “Come’ere.”

Her brow furrows as she finally looks at him —finally realizes he’s only wearing a loose pair of sleep pants —and she stares at him blankly. He’s motioning for her to come closer, but when she doesn’t move, he reaches for her and pulls her over to him.

“Jake —,”

“Just let me do this for you, Hurricane,” he orders gently, and his arms are around her as he lays back down on the couch.

Jake shifts a few times, adjusting both for his comfort and hers. She ends up laying on him entirely, one leg draped over his. Her cheek rests against his chest and she tries to tuck her hands under her body but he moves her hand and drapes it over his waist. Then his hand is on her shoulder, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric of his shirt that she wears.

The entire thing is strangely intimate, with him shirtless and her in his clothes. Like this is something they’ve done a thousand times before. But his breathing is even, and his skin is warm against her hands, and his scent that had been lingering in his room surrounds her entirely now as he holds her against him.

For the first time tonight, she feels calm. Safe. And as she settles against Jake, she decides that she’s been wrong about him this whole time.

When he wakes up, there’s a distinct lack of weight against him. He had tried to stay up long enough to make sure she fell asleep, but he’s not sure when either of them ended up sleeping. However, he is very aware of how she felt in his arms all night —how soft her skin felt, how warm she was. Waking up to her not in his arms almost hurt.

But then he reminds himself that she is not there for him, but the other way around.

Sitting up, he stretches up and yawns —then freezes when he hears something shatter and her cuss like a sailor in his kitchen. Jake lets out a laugh, though it’s more a sigh than anything else, and stands. Slipping his shirt back on, he follows her frustrated sounds.

Seeing her in his kitchen, his shirt hanging loosely off her shoulders and his boxers rolled up around her waist, Jake can’t help but lean against the doorway, watching. She looks like she belongs here, he thinks. Like she’s supposed to be messing up his kitchen at the crack of dawn.

There’s coffee in the pot and a mug sitting beside it. He assumes there must have been two given that the second is on his floor, shattered. And she’s trying to clean it up without being loud; though she’s failed miserably at that task.

“There’s a broom in the laundry room,” he finally offers, though he’s already making his way over and grabbing it himself.

She looks up with surprise, hand covering her mouth as she yelps at his “sudden” appearance. “Shit, Jake —why are you up?”

“I should be askin’ you that, sugar,” he counters, handing the broom over to her. She takes it lamely, and he can tell she’s embarrassed by the way she refuses to look at him. “I get up at the same time every day. Can’t help it.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” she offers, sweeping up the glass and tossing it. Then she leans against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I woke up and wanted to make breakfast for you. To thank you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, bracing his hands on either side of her against the counter. Invading her space just to get close to her again.

She doesn’t shrink back like he worries she might. And Jake is thankful for that, because after yesterday, he had been concerned that he might have to stop flirting with her like this. Getting close to her, annoying her until she’s about to cuss him out.

“Yeah, except you have Jack shit in your house. Protein powder and coffee are not food, Hangman.”

“Damn, back to callsigns, I see,” he teases, pulling back from her.

Her hand is pulling at his shirt though —not yanking him by any means, but the movement says more than she probably wants it to. Or maybe it says exactly what he wants it to say —wants her to say —as she tugs him back to her. Except this time his hands are on her hips, leaning down into her space, whispering her name softly.

“What are we doin’, sweetheart?” He asks, and he would usually just make the decision for her. But he figures giving her the control is exactly what he should have been doing this whole time.

“I don’t know,” she admits with a sigh, but her hand trails up his chest. “I don’t want to be someone you’re just…one and done with.”

“You think that’s all you’d be?” He scolds, narrowing his eyes at her for a moment. His hand finds her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “I haven’t spent six months tryin’ to get your number for no reason, Hurricane.”

“And what have you spent six months doing then, Lieutenant Seresin?”

He smirks, leaning in just a bit more. Brushes his nose against hers, just close enough that he can feel her breath on his lips. “Honestly? Tryin’ to get you to fall in love with me.”

“You think it worked?”

“Why don’t we find out over breakfast?”

“How many girls you take out to breakfast after they spend the night?” She asks, returning his smirk, but they both know the answer.

“Only you.”

She hums a bit in response, but Jake is tired of her playing hard to get. Especially when he had her in his arms last night, and she’s standing in his kitchen, in his goddamn underwear. With ease, he lifts her to the counter and takes her face in his hands, kissing her like he’s been thinking about since he got to North Island.

There’s no hesitation from her; she’s wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back just as hard. Her legs widen just enough for him to slot his hips between them, pressing her further into his countertop as he nips at her bottom lip, earning him a gasp that he swears he’s going to dream about every night until he hears it again.

But he’s the one that pulls back, and he’s grinning smugly down at her as she catches her breath. “Get dressed, sugar,” he orders, giving her one last peck. “Gonna take you out for breakfast, and you’re gonna tell me how well my plan to get you to fall for me has worked.”

“You’re a fucking menace,” she teases, pulling him back down the collar of his shirt. He could fight her, but there’s no fun in that.

“Oh you have no idea,” and they both know that’s a damn threat as he kisses her again.

#sara'sficrecs #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #Hangman #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #glen powell

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lives-in-midgard · 2 days ago

Text

Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it! 🥰

Promise

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x reader

Summary: A few months had passed since Joaquin's accident and he starts to go on missions again. One night you have a nightmare and he is there for you.

Warnings: Nightmare, talking about Joaquin's accident

Word Count: 900

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you like this! 💗

Divider made by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

It was in the middle of the night when you woke up from a nightmare. It was the same dream that you had a few days ago.

It was about Joaquin. About his accident that he had a few months ago.

The last time you had the nightmare it wasn’t as bad as this time, you could calm down faster, and Joaquin didn’t wake up. But this time it was different, it felt more real.

“Mi vida?” Joaquin whispered softly and you slowly looked up at him. It broke his heart to see you so sad.

“Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?” He asked worried.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

“Come here.” Joaquin said and you moved closer to him. You laid your head on his chest and held him tight. Joaquin pulled you closer and began to gently rub your back.

“I’ve got you…I’m right here, sweetheart.” He whispered while you held him tight.

“You feeling a bit better sweetheart?” He asked and you slowly nodded. Then you looked up at him and he softly started to wipe away some of your remaining tears.

“I dreamt about your accident.” You suddenly mumbled. His hand was still on your cheek when he heard what you said.

“I’m so sorry…I’m sorry that you had to dream about that.” He said, reached for your hand and intertwined it with yours.

“I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” You said and he nodded.

“Hey mi vida, look at me.” He whispered and you looked back at him.

“I will always find my way back home to you.”

“Te amo mucho.” (I love you so much) He whispered into your ear, and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Love you too.”

“Come here, let’s cuddle a bit more.” He said and gently pulled you closer. You made yourself comfortable in his arms and then he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Try to sleep, I’m not going anywhere.” He said and you laid there for a bit longer just enjoying being in his arms. After a while you fell asleep in the loving embrace of your boyfriend.

“No puedo esperar a casarme contigo algún día.” (I can’t wait to marry you one day) He mumbled when he noticed that you fell asleep in his arms.

#commentreblog

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lives-in-midgard · 3 days ago

Text

Bob: Why did the chicken cross the road?

John Walker: I don't know, why?

Bob: To get to the idiots house. Knock, knock?

John Walker: Who's there?

Bob: The chicken

John Walker: Listen you little shit.

Yelena: Whoa, Whoa, calm down.

#😂😂#incorrect marvel quotes #thunderbolts incorrect quotes #bob reynolds #john walker #yelena belova #thunderbolts*#thunderbolts

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lives-in-midgard · 3 days ago

Text

Promise

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x reader

Summary: A few months had passed since Joaquin's accident and he starts to go on missions again. One night you have a nightmare and he is there for you.

Warnings: Nightmare, talking about Joaquin's accident

Word Count: 900

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you like this! 💗

Divider made by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

It was in the middle of the night when you woke up from a nightmare. It was the same dream that you had a few days ago.

It was about Joaquin. About his accident that he had a few months ago.

The last time you had the nightmare it wasn’t as bad as this time, you could calm down faster, and Joaquin didn’t wake up. But this time it was different, it felt more real.

“Mi vida?” Joaquin whispered softly and you slowly looked up at him. It broke his heart to see you so sad.

“Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?” He asked worried.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

“Come here.” Joaquin said and you moved closer to him. You laid your head on his chest and held him tight. Joaquin pulled you closer and began to gently rub your back.

“I’ve got you…I’m right here, sweetheart.” He whispered while you held him tight.

“You feeling a bit better sweetheart?” He asked and you slowly nodded. Then you looked up at him and he softly started to wipe away some of your remaining tears.

“I dreamt about your accident.” You suddenly mumbled. His hand was still on your cheek when he heard what you said.

“I’m so sorry…I’m sorry that you had to dream about that.” He said, reached for your hand and intertwined it with yours.

“I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” You said and he nodded.

“Hey mi vida, look at me.” He whispered and you looked back at him.

“I will always find my way back home to you.”

“Te amo mucho.” (I love you so much) He whispered into your ear, and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Love you too.”

“Come here, let’s cuddle a bit more.” He said and gently pulled you closer. You made yourself comfortable in his arms and then he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Try to sleep, I’m not going anywhere.” He said and you laid there for a bit longer just enjoying being in his arms. After a while you fell asleep in the loving embrace of your boyfriend.

“No puedo esperar a casarme contigo algún día.” (I can’t wait to marry you one day) He mumbled when he noticed that you fell asleep in his arms.

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