#Top Gun: Maverick OC

[joaquinwhorres]

Tailspin - Part 4 (Fanboy Garcia x F!OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Having grown up just across the bridge from North Island, Carolina Alvarez has been told her whole life to stay away from the Top Gun boys. And for the most part, she has. That is, until Fanboy catches her putting quarters in the jukebox at The Hard Deck and initiates a game of cat and mouse that ends with her exactly where she swore she’d never be.

PAIRING ››››› Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia x F!OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 5,592

WARNINGS ››››› None?

MASTERLIST ››››› Here

A/N ››››› The moment you've all been waiting for. Unless you've somehow managed to avoid all of the spoilers I have on my blog about this.

She didn't respond to any of his texts.

His calls went unanswered too, the line ringing only once before routing to voicemail each of the three times he tried.

But it wasn't until the small Read 10:59 AM appeared on Bob's phone that he started to accept that Phoenix might be right. 

His face fell as he stared at the screen for a moment longer before handing the phone back to Bob. "Thanks," he said, the word sounding flat and hollow. 

The other man's mouth made silent attempts to form words as he accepted the phone, only stopping when Fanboy shook his head, relieving Bob of the sense of duty to respond. Bob sighed, pressing his lips together in a commiserative frown as he placed his phone upside down on the bar in front of him. "I'm sorry," he finally managed. 

"Jesus, he doesn't need your condolences," Hangman sighed loudly from where he lay across the leather couch nearby. The accompanying eye roll was practically audible. 

Bob side-eyed Hangman, his lips twisting in contempt.

"Oh, come on," Hangman scoffed as he rose into a seated position, throwing a hand out to gesture towards Fanboy. "You're acting like you just found out your mother died just 'cause some ex from five years ago who blocked you."

The words either didn't reach Fanboy or rolled right off him because his attention remained fixed on the phone in front of Bob. 

"I just don't get it," Fanboy murmured. 

"She's. Not. Interested," Hangman asserted, ignoring the warning looks from the other aviators. "Get over it or give up the dream that you're going on this mission." The blonde shook his head as he stood up. "If I stay at this pity party any longer, I'm going to start growing ovaries," he quipped, heading towards the door.

"Like you could handle them," Phoenix called after his retreating form. Hangman didn't slow down or even acknowledge her statement though as he disappeared out to the hallway. 

Bob shot Phoenix a smile as she shook her head. "Asshole."

"As much as I hate to say it, he has a point," Payback said gently from his seat next to Fanboy. "You've been off your game up there."

"I–"

"Come on man," Payback cut him off with a sympathetic smile. "I've seen what you can do. You were the best Wizzo in our class."

"I know," Fanboy said, hanging his head. "I just can't shake it." 

Payback pressed his lips together, meeting Bob's eyes over Fanboy's hunched form. The other WSO widened his eyes meaningfully, the loss for what to do written clearly on his face. Payback jerked his head in dismissal, and Bob slid from his seat, patting Fanboy's back once before heading over to Harvard and Fritz. 

With a quick glance up to the heavens and prayer for help, Payback scooted closer to Fanboy. "Look, do you still trust her?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle and low. 

Fanboy looked up, meeting Payback's eyes, and he could see that his closest friend here—the only one who knew just how little sense this all made—was approaching the end of his rope. 

"Yeah, of course." 

"Then trust that whatever reason she has for not wanting to talk to you is a good one." 

It was a solid piece of logic, easily traced back to the golden ring that encircled Payback's left finger. Fanboy could practically hear Neema's voice in the advice, reminding him that Caro had never done anything without a reason. While each of her decisions were explained with a breezy sentence or sharp quip, there had always been a thorough and conscientious thought process behind her actions.

But she had always offered up her reasonings willingly. They had never been so much as veiled, let alone something he had to pry from her. 

And it was that thought that led him to shake his head, eyes peering appealingly at Payback, urging him to understand.  "I can't," he whispered, the admission coming out pained and apologetic. 

Payback didn't have the time to do much more than sigh before there was a shuffling at the door that drew their attention. An administrative officer stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand. "Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, you're next." 

The three men nodded, Coyote using Yale's distractedness to spin a shot into the goal before backing up, grinning from the foosball table. Payback slid from his seat, clapping Fanboy on the shoulder as he did so. "Come on. We'll figure this out after we go make an old man do some push ups." 

"198…" Hondo counted, following it up with a loud, "Down!" 

Fanboy wasn't sure what hurt more: his muscles that had been battered from the flying and subsequent push ups, his ego at having Maverick continue to best them despite having no WSO or wingman, or his conscience for being the reason that Payback and Coyote were both sweating next to him. 

Because he couldn't stop thinking about it.

About that look on her face when he told her he'd missed her. 

About the stupid gray letters that appeared on Bob's phone. 

About the last time he'd seen her and how he should have just said it. 

"200!" Hondo announced. "You're good to—" 

The rest of his sentence was lost as Fanboy pushed himself up off the ground and onto his feet, taking off down the tarmac.

"Fanboy!" Payback called after him, but the backseater didn't stop, starting towards the building with more purpose than he'd even shown in the goddamn air. 

Ahead of him, Hangman grinned, the sun glinting off his golden hair. "You know, if you ever get her to talk to you, make sure to thank her for me. For taking out the competition." 

Fanboy's jaw set, his hands clenching into fists, but he continued on and into the showers, to wash away–even temporarily–the feeling of failure. But even the scalding water couldn't burn it away, and he emerged from the showers feeling somehow worse than when he went in.

"Fanboy." 

The sudden sound of his name caused his heart to jump in his chest, jerking around to see Phoenix's form waiting beside the door. She pushed herself away from the wall to fall in line with him. 

"What was that?"

He shook his head, turning back around so he could head towards the debrief room early for some peace and quiet before Hangman, Harvard, and Yale came down. 

"Hey," Phoenix called after him, catching up with long strides. "I'm serious. Calling the wrong break is the kind of error that gets you washed out of flight school."

Fanboy shook his head, looking away from Phoenix. He could still feel her gaze on him, insistent and intense. "I know," he mumbled. 

"Look, I've already got my hands full with Rooster; I can't have you spinning out too," Phoenix sighed, hand pushing at his arm to turn him towards her, finally getting him to stop. "So explain it to me–why is an ex you haven't seen or spoken to in the past five years so in your head?" 

Fanboy sighed, running a hand over his head, the short hairs tickling his palm. His eyes rested on a photo of a pilot grinning in the seat of an old F-14. 

"Because when I left, she loved me, and now she looks terrified of me. Something happened."

He chanced a glance at Phoenix's face finding the pilot staring at him with furrowed brows. "Five years happened." 

He shook his head. "It's bigger than that. I mean, if you're right, she blocked me a while ago, and I don't know what I did." 

"Maybe you didn't do anything," Phoenix shook her head. It was his time to look at her confused. "Maybe it isn't about you. Maybe she needed to block you to move on. Maybe she has."

The sentence hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. It was a moment before he could breathe again. 

"But why wouldn't she just say that?"

"I don't know," Phoenix shrugged. "But you need to figure out a way to let this go and get your head on straight. We need you on this mission." 

Her last sentence was lost to him though because finally someone said something actually actionable.

He needed to get his head on straight. And that's exactly what he would do.

Renew Chiropractic was a six minute drive from base.

Six minutes.

For the past week, he had only been one well-timed traffic light or random turn down a side street away from seeing her on one of his runs. Instead, it took a Google Search and a four hour wait until his scheduled appointment slot. 

His head was still reeling with the revelation as he pushed open the glass front door, entering the serene chiropractic office. Everything about the room was meant to be calming: the soft jade color of the walls, the essential oil blend puffing out of the diffuser, and the soothing nature sounds bubbling from the speaker. Even the row of empty chairs along the wall looked more plush than one might expect from a doctor's office. 

None of it seemed to have any effect on him though, each muscle in his body still tense and on alert as he approached the front desk. 

A tall, thin black man with wire-rimmed glasses looked up as he approached, eyes widening for a second upon seeing Fanboy in front of him. 

"Hi, can I help you?" the receptionist asked. The middle-aged white woman sat next to him cast him a puzzled look before her eyes too wandered to Fanboy. She sat up a bit straighter in her seat, hazel eyes narrowed slightly as she followed his progress towards them. 

"Yeah," Fanboy said, stepping up to the desk. "I have an appointment with Dr. Alvarez." 

He offered them a hesitant smile, one that he hoped softened the edges of his obvious anxiety. Instead, the woman's mouth drew in tighter, dangerously close to a frown. The man next to her however schooled his features into professional sympathy. "I'm sorry, sir. Dr. Alvarez actually had to step out." 

Fanboy's shoulders sank under the weight of his disappointment. He'd known it'd been a risk using his name while making the appointment. A part of him had considered using a fake name, but ultimately decided that would cross the line into unhinged.  "Do you know if she'll be back today or this week?"

The man shook his head. "She didn't say." 

"Dr. Houten is still in and he should be finishing up with his last patient if you would like to see him instead," the woman offered, rising from her chair. "I'll just let him know." 

Fanboy took a deep breath, eyes floating to the open hallway behind them as he weighed his options. He could stay and waste his time getting adjusted by her colleague which meant he'd have to wait until next week in order to try catching her here again or he could just leave and camp out in the parking lot like a total lunatic—he didn't finish the thought. Instead, down the hall a door opened and out of it came Dr. Lane. 

The same woman who had spilled a drink on Caro that first night back at the Hard Deck. 

Who, when he asked during his physical, had scoffed at the very idea of knowing Caro beyond that incident.

Who now made eye-contact with him and clearly and solemnly said, "Shit." 

She spun on her heel, hands coming up as if to push someone behind her, but instead, the person brushed her aside, coming out and peering down the hall to see what had prompted the reaction.

Caro.

She was openly shocked, her eyes wide and locked on him. Dr. Lane cast a quick glance between Caro and Fanboy before fixing her own determined gaze on him, her jaw set as she started down the hallway towards him with long purposeful strides. She stopped next to the older woman who had freed herself from behind the receptionist's desk.

It took less than a second for him to discern what was happening, the piercing realization bringing with it an acute and sharp pain in his chest. They were barricading him from the hallway. They were protecting her from him. 

His face crumpled, brows furrowing and lips bowing into a frown. "I just came to talk," he said, his voice desperate and thin.

Dr. Lane shook her head. "You should head back to base." The words were technically a suggestion, but they sounded far more like an order. "She knows how to reach you if she wants to talk." 

Fanboy opened and closed his mouth again, eyes shooting over her shoulder to try to find Caro. She had come closer, reaching the trio now and laying a hand on the other doctor's shoulder. "Jas," she said calmly, gently pushing her to the side so that she could come out into the waiting room. "It's ok." 

The statement did little to pacify Dr. Lane. Instead, the other woman shot Caro a look that very clearly expressed her distrust of the situation. She didn't say anything though, allowing Caro to pass in between her and the Renew Chiropractic employee. 

"We can talk outside," Caro said, pointing to the door behind Fanboy. 

He nodded, leading the way out, pausing only to hold the door open for her before he headed down the path and out of sight of the glass front door. 

When he turned to face Caro, he found her with her hand stuffed in the pockets of her maroon scrubs, her face carefully and uncharacteristically impassive. 

"I'm sorry–" he started before Caro cut him off.

"You found where I work?" Her words came out even, dull almost, but he could sense the danger underneath them. 

"I tried to text and call, but–"

"But I didn't answer, so you decided to ambush me at my job," she finished for him, folding her arms across her chest.

"It wasn't an ambush!" he protested, his heart rate rocketing at the accusation. "I made an appointment. So you'd know I was coming." 

He watched her process this statement in real time. Her brow scrunching in the middle and corners of her mouth tugging down slightly. Her eyes slid to the right, towards the building, before snapping back to him. It was then that she seemed to see him for the first time—noticing that he was in his service khakis and the tension in his shoulders and maybe even the plea in his face for her to just give him a chance. 

Caro took a deep breath, audibly pushing it out through her nose. "Ok," she said, her voice having lost some of its edge. "I can give you fifteen minutes." 

Fanboy also breathed out a sigh of relief, eyes falling to the ground between them before flickering up to her. "You know, the website said forty-five," he attempted with a smile which faded quickly as her eyes hardened once more. "Sorry, yeah, fifteen minutes." 

Silence entwined itself between the two of them as they stood in front of her office building, both in their respective uniforms and both wishing very much that this wasn't how they were spending their day.

Caro was the one who finally broke the silence. "You wanted to talk?" 

"Yeah," Fanboy breathed out, hand coming up to rub the back of his head. "Yeah, I did." His eyes met hers again, despite the fact that every time he seemed to look at her, she seemed to grow even more guarded, even further away. "The other night at the Hard Deck…and then now…" he took in a deep breath before releasing it and the remainder of his sentence with it. "It just seems like there's something wrong between us." 

"I was just surprised," Caro shrugged.

"Yeah," Fanboy agreed, hating his masochistic need to push the subject. "It just seemed like more than surprise. I know it's been years, but I thought…you just didn't seem…I don't know…"

"Happy to see you?" Caro supplied, raising an eyebrow. 

He flushed at the accurate indictment of his own ego, and she shook her head at him. 

"What were you expecting, Mickey?" she asked, exasperation tingeing every word. "Me to throw myself into your arms like nothing's changed?"

The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but even he knew that outcome was more of a daydream, a fantasy, than a possible outcome of his arrival back in Fightertown. 

"No," Fanboy shook his head. "I just thought we were good." 

"We're fine." 

"Then why did your receptionists just try to keep me from seeing you? And why has Dr. Lane stepped in to keep you from spending more than five minutes with me?" 

He didn't want to know the answer to either question. There couldn't be a good reason–one that would get him back on track and restore his focus on earning a spot in the mission. Whatever she said was going to spin him out worse than he was already. But he had to know. Because if he left it at Caro's lie he would never forgive himself. Just like he already couldn't forgive himself for just accepting that the original plan for their relationship's end was just fine. That nothing had changed from the moment they made that agreement to his last moments of saying goodbye.

"They're overprotective," Caro supplied. 

"But they don't even know me." 

"They know about you. That's enough."

He grew quiet, and the urge he had to walk towards her, to close the space between them, died. Instead, he pulled back some, as if she had poked a finger into his chest the way she used to when she was mad. 

"What do they know?" 

For the first time, Caro was unable to meet his gaze, her eyes going to a large ceramic flower pot that lined the path. "They know I loved you and that you left and blocked me so I haven't seen or heard from you in five years."

"What?" His horrified whisper seemed to suck out all of the air and sounds from their surroundings. 

Caro met his eyes, and he could see the emotion there for the first time, thick and threatening.  "You left," she repeated, "And you blocked me." 

"I didn't block you–" he started, voice still wavering and almost soundless. 

"You did," Caro said with a nod. She took a breath in, and like that, the emotions fell back down into her and away from the surface. "It's fine, though. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters," Fanboy insisted, finally taking a step towards her. 

"No it doesn't. I'm over it." 

"It matters to me," he tried again, taking another step, but Caro tightened her arms against her chest. 

"It shouldn't," she said flatly. "Because it wouldn't change anything. You'd still have gone to Virginia, I'd still have been here, and life still would've moved on for both of us."

"Would it have?" He sounded almost as desperate as he felt.

"It did," she said, quietly. Caro ran a hand through her hair, looking over his shoulder and out into the parking lot. "Things are different now."

There was something in her voice. A distance almost as if trying to avoid coming too close to what exactly life had changed. 

A thought popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the question was escaping. "Are you seeing someone?"

Caro's expression turned stony, and she straightened her spine. "What? You'll only respect the fact that I'm not interested in starting whatever it is you're hoping for if another man is involved?"

"No," he sputtered. 

"Then why does it matter if I'm seeing anyone?"

The pressure in his chest felt worse than any G force he had ever experienced. 

"I just–" he started, struggling to form a response that wouldn't further drive her away. "I'm trying to understand."

Her eyes fluttered closed in obvious annoyance, but he supposed the gesture was better than having her turn away. When she looked at him once more, she was still clearly frustrated, but her gaze had softened some.

"I'm not seeing anyone," she admitted. "I'm just older now. I have more responsibilities, and I can't—" she cut herself off, swallowing and then breathing and then restarting again, slower this time. "I can't do this again," she finished, gesturing with a finger. "I need something stable now."

He was able to nod twice before the weight of his thoughts caused him to just hang his head to stare at his shoes. "Yeah that's...that's fair," he managed. Quiet once more settled itself around them, ballooning in the space between them so he felt even further from her. "Could we at least maybe get a drink while I'm here. As friends?"

"Mickey," she said, gently. Too gently. "You know we can't be just friends."

A car door slammed in the parking lot behind him, pulling Caro's attention from him. The color drained from her face, taking with it the awful look of sympathy. Instead she looked horrified, like she might throw up or pass out. Or both. 

"Caro?" Fanboy asked, closing the space between them in two long strides. "Are you —"

"Mama!" A delighted shriek cut him off as quick and heavy thwaps hurtled towards them. He turned, watching with wide eyes as a little girl with bronzed skin and dark pigtails barreled towards Caro, only stopping when she collided with the chiropractor's legs, narrowly missing him. 

He was going to be sick. 

"Look!" The little girl demanded, shoving her hand up into Caro--her mother--'s face. "Kelsey painted my nails!"

Each little finger nail was a different color. Some a neon green, others a deep glittery navy, a sleek red, and a metallic purple. No two colors or textures were the same. 

"I see," Caro said with a nod, taking the girl's tiny hand in hers and tilting it back and forth to inspect each nail.

For a second it looked as if she might glance up to meet Fanboy's eyes, but instead she looked into the little girl--her daughter--'s face. 

"You know Bryson would probably like to see your nails, " she commented, releasing the small hand. "Why don't you go show him, and I'll meet you in there when I'm done talking? Then we can go home." 

The little girl looked up at her before suddenly shifting her attention to Fanboy, her big brown eyes peering intently at him, assessing. 

Evidently he failed as she frowned and then turned back to Caro, appealingly. "Um, what if you came with me?" Caro gave her a small smile, reaching down to brush hair out of her daughter's face. 

"Give me five minutes ok? You can ask Kelsey to help you keep track," she said, looking up to where the babysitter—Kelsey—hovered. It was then Fanboy noticed that she was staring between him and Caro, brow furrowed. She seemed to snap out of it at the sound of her name though, reaching a hand out for the little girl. 

"Come on, Dalia. Let's go show Bryson." 

The name caused all breath to escape from Mickey's lungs, and this time Caro's eyes did shoot to his, their gazes locking on each other. 

Neither of them took their eyes off of the other as the little girl reached for her babysitter's hand, letting the teenager guide her inside and away from Fanboy and Caro and the tension between them outside. 

"Dalia?" He asked, the repetition of the name more than just a question of whether or not he had heard it correctly. 

He was met with silence, which maybe should have been answer enough. Still, he felt like he needed to hear it, needed some sort of response, and so he attempted to ask again. 

"Is she…?" he trailed off, looking to the door the little girl had passed through just moments before. 

The little girl.

His–

He couldn't finish the thought. 

Because she couldn't be. They had been safe—mostly— and who was to say that she hadn't been with anyone after he left? And it was entirely possible that when he'd shared that name with her five years ago, both of them wrapped up in her sheets with his arms around her and her head resting against his shoulder, she had decided that she'd liked it too and wanted to use it herself for any future children.

But when he met her eyes again, he could see it all over her face. 

"Oh my God," he murmured. 

"Mickey, I—" 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, heart pounding as the world seemed to spin around him, alarms whirring to life to signal that he was crashing. 

"I tried."

The words came out so small and quiet, it broke something in him. 

"What?" his voice cracked on the word. 

"Right after I found out. I tried calling you and texting, but nothing went through. I even tried reaching out on Facebook, and I was blocked." She spread her hands wide, shrugging.

It hit him then: he had blocked her. Right after he had returned to his squadron and gotten word of their upcoming short deployment. It had been too hard seeing pictures of her pop up on his feed. He wasted hours talking himself out of reaching back out and begging her to at least try long distance with him. He'd blocked her to protect her from any potential weak moments on the carrier. 

"Shit," he breathed out, stepping backwards. His hand going up to his forehead. He missed his curls, something to hold onto to ground him in reality.

"I–" he started before taking another breath and trying again. "Do I need to sign papers or something?" 

"Papers?"' Caro repeated. "For what?" she asked.

He lifted the hand from his head, gesturing to where his—Dalia had disappeared.  "For her."

Understanding dawned on her face as she offered a smile that made him want to scream just to dislodge the emotion caught in his throat, threatening to choke him. She shook her head. "You don't need to do anything."

"I should help. I want to help," he pressed, correcting himself. 

"Mickey," Caro said clearly, sternly. The same way he imagined she spoke to Dalia. "You're fine. Nothing changes just because you know now."

He breathed out a disbelieving, humorless laugh. "Everything changes."

"You're still in the Navy."

He sucked in a breath. Fuck. 

Fuck.

She didn't need to continue. Bringing up the Navy was enough, but she went on anyway, whether because she thought he'd need more explanation or because she wanted him to feel the weight of her world. 

"You're still stationed on the other side of the country. You're still gone in a month. You still have deployments and missions and wars and I don't want that for her." Caro stopped, and he could see the emotion back on the surface. It was everywhere from her eyes to her now slightly slumped shoulders to the desperate edge her voice had taken on. "I'm just trying to do what's best for my daughter here. You see that right?" 

Fanboy's shoulders dropped. "I know," he said. "It's just…I have a daughter, Caro. I want to at least meet her. Even if it's not as her dad." 

Caro was quiet, and he could see the thought turning over in her head. The tinkling bell of the front door opening interrupted her, prompting the pair to turn in tandem to see who was coming back out. Fanboy's breath caught hoping for Dalia to come bounding around the corner. Instead, it was Dr. Lane.

"Caro?" she asked. "I've been sent to inform you that it's been six minutes."

Caro nodded, offering a quick reassuring smile. "I'll be right in." 

Dr. Lane nodded, her eyes falling on Fanboy with a hard, assessing look. She remained standing, just off to the side, resolute. 

This prompted a softer, more genuine smile from Caro. "Can you let her know Jas?" she asked. The other doctor seemed more than a little reluctant to head back inside, disappearing with another sound of the bell.

Caro waited a second more, as if not entirely sure Jas was gone. Finally she faced him again, more relaxed than he'd seen her since he returned to San Diego. "I'll think about it," Caro assured. "Just promise me you won't try to come back here again or try to see her on your own. Please." 

Fanboy nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I promise."

"I'll text you. Either way, I'll text you, and we'll talk. Deal?" 

A sad half smile crossed his face remembering all of the other deals they'd made. This felt like the worst one by far. 

"Deal," he agreed.  

Caro re-entered the office to find Dalia standing on one of the chairs, peering over the reception  desk. 

"Dalia," she sighed, hand going to her head as her daughter's head whipped around. "No standing on the chairs, remember?" 

"Sorry," Dalia and Jas both apologized and Caro's eyes slid over to the auburn haired woman as her daughter jumped down off the seat.

"I thought you'd have headed back." 

Jas shrugged. "Thought I'd stick around just in case." 

"That's kind of you, but I'm fine," Caro said, heading forward to her daughter, wrapping her arms around the four year old's torso in a swaying hug. 

Jas snorted. "That has got to be the least convincing I'm fine ever." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Kelsey apologized from where she had taken her mother's seat next to Bryson.

Caro shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you for dropping her off." She looked down at the four year old. "And giving her a fun day." 

Kelsey smiled as her parents came down the hall together, Dr. Houten giving his wife the same look he gave patients who came in after complicated car accidents. His eyes found Caro's, and her stomach dropped. 

"Are you ok?" 

"I'm fine. Really," Caro dismissed. "It was just awkward." 

"What was awkward, Mama?" Dalia asked, leaning her head back to peer up at her mother. Caro offered a smile.

"I got a surprise visit from someone I haven't seen in a really long time. And sometimes when you haven't seen someone in a long time, things are awkward."

"Oh." Dalia said, hanging herself forwards on Caro's arms. "Can we go home now?"

Caro nodded. "Let me grab my things from my office, ok?" 

She headed towards the back and Dr. Houten followed her. "Robin filled me in a little on what's going on. If you need to take a few days to sort this out, I can take your patients and we can reschedule the rest–"

"It's fine. Really," Caro said, bending over her desk to pick up her purse. "He won't be back."

He raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't want to see Dalia?"

Caro looked up at him. "He won't be back here. I just–I need this to keep me busy."

He looked unsure, pressing his lips together before nodding. "Ok. But if it becomes obvious that you need time off, I'm not giving you an option."

"Thanks, Mark," Caro said, shouldering her purse. "Really."

He smiled, looking for a second like he might be tempted to give her a side hug before realizing that'd be even more awkward than a regular one. Instead, he laid a light hand on her back as if ushering her out of her own office. 

Dalia was straddling two chairs when Caro exited the office, her hands wrapped in Jas' for stability. The guilty look on Jas' face killed the reprimand on Caro's tongue, replaced instead with a laugh and shake of her head. 

"Ready?" She asked her daughter. 

Dalia jumped out of the chair, tugging her hands free from Jas'. "Can we get ice cream?"

Caro loved her daughter. 

She was so good. So easy all things considered. She wanted her mother and ice cream and fun, and she didn't need any complications to her life. 

"Hmm," she hummed, squinting in mock-thought. She could practically feel the excitement bubbling off of the four year old. "I don't know…."

"Pleeeeeeease," Dalia begged, skipping forward to wrap her arms around Caro, head tilted up to implore her mother with big eyes.

"Ok," Caro agreed, tapping her daughter's nose. Dalia let out a cheer, releasing Caro and bouncing off towards the door. 

It was entirely possible that more sugar was the last thing Dalia needed, but the girl apparently knew a thing or two about timing her questions. 

"You know," Jas said, sidling up next to Caro. "I like ice cream."

Caro raised an eyebrow as she pressed out the door, waving a hand to the staff remaining behind. "Is that supposed to be a subtle hint that you'd like to join us?"

"To be fair, subtlety is not my strong suit," Jas admitted, walking alongside Caro. "If you'd rather keep it just a mother daughter thing, though, I totally get it."

Caro smiled at her new friend before her eyes darted to her daughter about to hop into the parking lot. "Hand please, Dalia," she called out. The little girl turned and scampered back, taking hold of Cato's outstretched hand. "What do you think?" Caro asked her daughter. "Can Jas join us for ice cream?"

"Yep," Dalia chirped as she skipped next to her mom. Caro looked back at Jas with a smile. 

"You're in."

Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

[tinyhousegirl]

Astro - Chapter Two

TW: mentions of sex, cursing, etc. DNI if under 18!

Read the synopsis and master list here!

Like what you're reading? Buy me a brick to help me save for a house!

Read on Tumblr below. Coming to AO3 soon!

Bradley’s phone alarm blared into the darkness, causing the pilot to shoot up out of bed. He hadn’t slept well at all, the jetlag of being overseas for so long hitting like a train. He shut off the alarm and leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on, wincing at the sudden brightness. 

He was preparing to get out of bed when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around his torso. He felt her warm skin against his bare back as she kissed in between his shoulder blades softly. 

“Good morning, I made coffee.” He turned slightly, the barely visible morning light glowing on Taylor’s face as she smiled at him. She was still in his shirt from the late night before, but she was a lot more awake than he was. He noticed her hair was wet. “Bradley?”

He shook the tiredness out and smiled back. “Hi baby, you’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to wake you up. I know how exhausted you are the first few days home.” 

Home. He was home. 

“You want coffee or nah?” He nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll be back.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and skipped off. He would never get over her cheery morning personality. 

Bradley finally got up and beelined to the bathroom, knowing a shower would be just what he needed to kickstart his body. He was in and out in a few minutes, toweling off as Taylor appeared with a cup of coffee for him. He quietly took it as she disappeared into her closet to change. 

The morning routine came like second nature to them as if they hadn’t spent the last few months apart. The pair had both mastered the art of dressing at this point in their careers, working in tandem to make sure no piece was out of place. He loved helping her pin her hair back with bobby pins while she finished her makeup. She loved tucking his shirt in and buttoning it up, making sure it was pressed tight against his body so his abs would poke through so she could trace them lightly. They always seemed to get ready much faster together, and today was no different. Neither would complain about the extra makeout time they got before heading out to base. 

The ride to base was quiet. It was early enough that most sane people were sound asleep or crawling home from the bars, and the peace was just what Taylor needed to calm her nerves before they walked into the hangar at Fightertown. A classroom setup had been built, and she could already recognize a few faces that beat them there.

More faces showed up before each seat was taken in the makeshift classroom. The California sun had risen and the sound of fighter jet engines rang throughout the large hangar. Phoenix leaned over as they awaited instruction.

“Did the Admiral let you in on any insider secrets for this mission?” She asked.

“For once, Iceman didn’t blab to me.” Astro cheesed at her friend, but deep down she knew who was coming. Her father’s appearance at The Hard Deck last night had knocked her off her axis a little bit. She wanted to warn Rooster, but knew that would be above her rank. She’d just have to see how this played out. They hadn’t seen each other in two years, even longer since they exchanged words past simple greetings. She just wanted to ride the little bubble of ignorant bliss that her and Bradley had as long as possible. 

“Attention.” A voice called, and all twelve pilots stood up immediately. Two officers walked in. 

Taylor recognized them as Cyclone and Warlock, two men she worked with sporadically in her years as an instructor for the new recruits. They introduced themselves to the group, then introduced their own instructor.

“Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign: Maverick.” 

Rooster tensed next to her as the pilots followed their instructor’s walk from the back row of seats to the podium at the front. Phoenix turned to Astro with a confused look, switching between the father/daughter duo. Astro shook her head slowly and kept her gaze forward as they were instructed to sit. 

“Good morning aviators,” Rooster’s hand found her thigh, tightening his grip with every word Maverick spoke. She tried to ignore it, focused only on the instruction. Maverick held up a book. “The F-18 manual. I’m sure you all know everything about your aircraft without it.” A few of the pilots acknowledged him with whoops, which were immediately shut down as he tossed the book into the trash can next to the podium. “So does your enemy.”

“Your target…” 

Maverick explained the mission parameters - a low entry, tight-turning terrain with a nuclear site hidden between two steep mountains at the bottom of a valley. Then a high G climb that no pilot had ever conquered in an F-18 before, with dogfighting inevitable against 5th generation fighter jets and surface-to-air missiles. They had just two and a half minutes to target and two miracle bombs to land in those 150 seconds. Taylor finally understood why they needed the best of the best on this op. The look Ice gave her before she left his house a few nights ago finally made sense.

“Today we’ll be pushing your limits. Suit up.”

The group of pilots stood up and filtered out of the hangar to the locker rooms. Taylor stayed back a moment, locking eyes with her father. The older Mitchell nodded at her solemnly as he walked to suit up himself. 

Taylor lagged behind her fellow aviators into the barracks where their lockers were located, but a hand pulled her aside before she could reach the women’s door.

Bradley pulled her into an alcove, eyes angry. “Did you know?”

“Brad-”

“Don’t ‘Bradley’ me, did you know he was part of this?” He whispered angrily, head on a swivel to keep an eye out for anybody else in the hallway. 

Taylor sighed. “Yeah, I had a feeling.” Rooster let her go forcefully, a hand coming up to run through his curly hair. “I wasn’t supposed to know, Bradley.”

“You should’ve warned me.” 

“How am I supposed to do that when I didn’t even know if you were alive 24 hours ago? Would you have come if you knew?” She snapped and that shut him up. “You had orders, so did I.”

She stalked into the women’s lockers, Natasha already stepping into her flight suit. 

“I didn’t realize your father was teaching us, Astro.”

Taylor opened her locker and began to pull her uniform off forcefully. “There’s no one else as insane as he is to teach this. This is a suicide mission, Phe.” 

“Maybe. But to pull that many Gs in an F-18, how cool!” Taylor laughed. Nat’s semi-sadistic humor would never fail to lighten the mood. “I mean, I know the plane may not be handle it, but-”

A loud thud pounded against the entry door, causing both women to jump. “C’mon ladies, let’s see the show!” Hangman’s cocky voice echoed around the lockers.

“Fuck off, Bagman!”

“Hangman!” He corrected, and Taylor could see the cocky smile he probably had on his stupid face. “I’ll see y’all out there.”

Both ladies laughed to themselves as they finished suiting up.

—

As the sun set over the California sky each night, The Hard Deck became their relief off base. The last few days had consisted of basic maneuvering and light dogfighting against one another, but tomorrow was a new day. They would be showing their skills against Maverick, in a two-versus-one showdown in the sky. 

Taylor sat at a high top near the bar, nursing a drink as she buried her head in her laptop. Amelia tapped her pencil against her homework across from her. Penny smiled lightly at the pair from the kitchen doorway, watching and waiting for their nacho plate to be finished. This little tradition of working side by side stuck with Amelia and Taylor, finding comfort in the quiet presence of one another as they hashed out homework assignments and Naval projects. Despite the rocky relationship she had with Pete, the Mitchell girl remained close friends with the Benjamin family, becoming something akin to an older sister to Amelia over the years. Amelia did much better in school when Taylor was home, and the older girl made sure her presence was still there while she was away on missions. One year, she bought a life-size cardboard cutout of herself for Amelia to use as a stand-in, and the younger girl was so embarrassed. She still used that cutout to this day.

Taylor finished sending her email before Penny walked up with the plate of food, setting it in front of the girls. “Thanks, Pen. These look amazing.”

“They’re the same ones you get every week.” Penny remarked with a smile as she sat down next to them. 

“Yes, but imagine,” Taylor shoved a chip full of queso in her face, “imagine how amazing these taste after flying fighter jets with your insane father all day.”

Penny laughed as she pinched Amelia’s nose teasingly, who shooed her mother’s hand away with a smile. “I’ve flown with your father, I don’t think I could eat for days afterwards.” 

Taylor shook her head as her phone buzzed. “Not this girl. I crave the air.” She shook the crumbs off of her hands and grabbed the phone. “Oops, the boss man must be checking his email. It’s Ice.”

From: Ice Ice Baby

I thought I told you not to worry about the exhibition while you’re at Top Gun?

To: Ice Ice Baby

These emails aren’t gonna write themselves. And I don’t see you volunteering to call news outlets for promotional pieces.

From: Ice Ice Baby

Ha ha, very funny. Make fun of the man who can’t talk. I can have you demoted, you know.

To: Ice Ice Baby

Then who would bother you all the time? You already sent your boyfriend to the Mojave Desert, you can’t send me anywhere worse, what kind of Godfather would you be??

From: Ice Ice Baby

Alright fine, I wouldn’t demote you. Only cause you’re more tolerable than my ‘boyfriend.’ Thought he and Penny were getting back together?

To: Ice Ice Baby

Jury’s still out on that one. Will report back when I know more. Astro, out.

She sat her phone back down and continued to dig into the nacho plate until the door burst open and a bumbling mess of aviators stumbled through the door. The rowdy crowd had arrived, interrupting her peace and quiet with the Benjamin ladies and the few patrons at the bar for dinner service. 

“Astro! We’re doing shots!”

Oh boy. So much for staying on track with her exhibition to-do list. 

“You buying, Coyote?” She teased, closing the laptop for the evening, winking at Amelia as she laughed to herself and packed her school work up. 

“Only if you beat me at pool.” The gang slowly filtered to the pool tables with drinks as Coyote racked the balls. 

Taylor leaned down to break, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. “Here’s where you’re in trouble, Coyote. You’re in Astro's home turf.” Hangman laughed when she broke, sinking two balls in the back pockets much to her opponent’s dismay. A couple of shots later, and Coyote was buying the first round of booze. 

Taylor hung with Fanboy, Phoenix, and Bob as the next pool game began, Coyote now finding purchase in Hangman as his next target. 

“So, how did you and Rooster meet?” Bob yelled over the music. He was one shot and a drink in, and it was adorable how tipsy he was getting already. 

“Childhood best friend.” Taylor responded shortly. Once the rest of the pilots found out the two were a couple, the teasing and joking remarks were relentless. Taylor didn’t mind, and it usually got Bradley more riled up which meant she got more fun out of him at night in the comfort of their bed.

“Isn’t he like five years older than you? How did that work out?” Fanboy piggybacked off of her response. 

“Only three years, geez, Fanboy! He’s not that old!” Astro shoved him playfully. “I guess for us we were just destined to be stuck together forever.” She winked with a dramatic tone.

She didn’t need to bring up the fourteen months he didn’t talk to her after the fallout with Maverick. How she begged and begged for her best friend to please let her in, to separate her from her father’s horrible decision when she was just sixteen. How, at seventeen, she was wooed by a boy from school into taking a romantic weekend trip to Los Angeles only to be left stranded in the city. Bradley would never forget her name popping up on his phone at 3 AM, and knowing something was wrong. His instincts were correct as he answered, and could only hear her sobbing on the other end. He had never driven so fast in his life, making the two hour drive in just over an hour to get to her. It was the first time they had talked in over a year, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to leave her home alone in San Diego while Maverick was overseas. He had stayed the weekend and they awkwardly rekindled, but that fleeting attempt went out the window as soon as he was sent overseas three days later.

A few months later, she was so terrified to tell him she got accepted into the academy at eighteen while he was still trying so desperately to get in at twenty-one. They only leveled out after he was finally accepted, and she could finally breathe around her best friend again. A couple of years of rebuilding, even more years of pining in between deployments and missions, and one very aggressive yet effective aviator named Jake Seresin led them to the almost four years of dating they were quickly approaching, minus a few months when they would take their extended breaks courtesy of Bradley’s inability to commit. 

“Anyways, enough about me. What about the rest of you? Any special lovers back home?”

Bob raised his hand with a drunken smile. “Ooh! Me! She’s the most beautiful thing.” He was quick to pull his phone out, showing them a photo of the most stunning couple. Bob was dressed in a tan suit, and the woman on his arm had the most gorgeous wedding dress on. 

“Holy shit, Bob. She’s stunning!” Taylor and Nat grabbed the phone, almost drooling over the details in the picture. 

“You’re married?” Fanboy exclaimed, peering over Taylor’s shoulder to see the couple, too.

“Last June.” Bob smiled proudly, pulling a wedding ring on a necklace out. “She’s the love of my life.” 

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to meet her someday.” Phoenix teased lightly, handing the phone back to him. “Rumor has it that Hangman has a girl in town now, too.” 

“Oh god, that poor girl.” Taylor joked before she felt a hand slide into her back pocket. She turned her neck slightly to meet the eyes of her own dreamy aviator. “Hey Roo.”

“You guys talking about me?” He smirked.

“Only because you’re Astro’s arm candy.” Fanboy joked, causing the rest of the aviators to ooh under their breaths. 

Bradley shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get.” The rest of them continued talking as he leaned into her ear. “Arm candy is requesting we get out of here.” He said lowly, causing a chill to run down her spine. 

She bumped her butt into him, causing him to stumble backwards slightly. “One more drink then I’m all yours, Lieutenant.” Bradley smiled, running to grab another round.

A few more drinks and over an hour later, the couple snuck out to Bradley’s Bronco, speeding off in the heat of the night. They could barely keep their hands off one another. He kept her hand laced tight in his as they drove out towards the mountains, finding escape from the city with one another. Before Rooster could fully remove the keys from the ignition, she was flipping on him, straddling his lap as she planted a rum-flavored kiss on his lips.

“Mmm, baby, mmm.” Bradley mumbled as her hands slipped under his shirt to trace his abs. He could already feel himself getting hard as he scrambled to move them to the backseat. “C’mon, you know it’s so much better back there.” 

He didn’t even realize he had zoned out, unable to take his eyes off of how stunning and beautiful she looked as she huffed playfully with an eye roll. She pulled her hair out the ponytail and draped it over his shoulder as she climbed into the backseat, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. He was so in love with this woman, it hurt. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, how to get him riled up, but also how to make him feel safe and comfortable. He was going to spend forever with this woman if he had anything to say about it.

“Rooster, if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to God.” Bradley pushed the thoughts out of his head and climbed on top of her, laying his lips on hers happily as she laughed. 

The Bronco rocked in the quiet peace of the mountains until the early light of morning.

---

Tag List: @alanadetigy

[ginger-grimm]

HAPPINESS EXCHANGE

Layla Burton & Robert "Bob" Floyd for @veetlegeuse

I hope you like it!

[bobfloydsbabe]

INTRODUCING ❋ Lt. Kennedy 'Zero' Quinn ↳ a top gun: maverick oc (rooster x oc)

Lt. Kennedy Quinn has made a comfortable life for herself as an aircraft mechanic in the Navy. It was the second-best thing after failing to qualify as a naval aviator. Close enough to the action to feel the rush, but far enough that she won’t get anyone killed. If she has to watch TOPGUN recruits come and go in the process, then so be it.

Then her best friend comes to town for an extended visit, old graduates show up on base, and a familiar face does his best to lure her back to his bed. It's all too much, and Kennedy's quiet existence of flying under the radar is thrown into free fall, and no one's there to catch her. Except maybe Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw.

top gun oc tag: @anna-phora, @itsjustgracy, @captainrcgers

[writingbylee]

(@queen--kenobi ) Hi I saw those tags, I'm gonna make you cry.

1) What are Lyra and Lyanna's favorite colors?

2) Which of your OCs would get along? Which would hate each other? Who would be the ultimate team up?

3) Tell me how you think Lyanna ends up with Ned's hat in the Western AU! Does she end up with anything of Robb's? In the Scorched Earth/dark verse, does Lyanna keep those things?

hi it worked i cried

(also i love you so much perse omg)

Answers under the cut!! cause this got LONG

1. Lyra’s favorite color is a deep royal purple, because it reminds her of Naboo and her sister. Lyanna’s favorite color is red, which seems counterintuitive, but it’s not a Lannister red. it’s the red of the leaves on the Winterfell weirwood tree, the red of Robb and Sansa’s hair.

2. ooooooo i love this question!! i actually think Kara and Edme would get along pretty well— they both have similar seafaring backgrounds and similar ideas about loyalty that i think would make them click. i think Emmalee and Ceara would absolutely be the ultimate team up in regards to power level. if we’re talking about like pitched battles, Aemma and Lyanna would kick anybody’s ass. i think Lyra would drive Wasp absolutely insane. and i think Ceara would resent Edme, so like maybe not hate but pretty close.

3. THE WESTERN AU AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH but yes anyways i think Lyanna gets Ned’s hat after Littlefinger delivers Ned’s body to Catelyn. in the Western AU Catelyn doesn’t leave Winterfell right away, so Littlefinger delivers the body to Winterfell. Catelyn is super distraught and can barely even handle Littlefinger so Lyanna ends up being the one to go out and talk to him and take the casket back. Littlefinger probably lies to Lyanna and tells her that he stole the hat but he couldn’t save the guns, when in reality Tywin let Littlefinger take the hat back because it didn’t mean anything to him symbolically. Lyanna does end up with Robb’s weapons belt and one of his revolvers! Robb leaves them behind when he goes to the Red Wedding, so Lyanna has them at Winterfell. i think dark!Lyanna would keep both the hat and the belt/gun, but she wouldn’t wear them anymore. dark!Lyanna has gotten to a point where she knows that what she’s done would be considered unforgivable by both her father and her brother, but she doesn’t feel sorry for the things she’s done. so i think she’d respect their memory by not wearing the hat and belt, but i don’t think she would be able to get rid of them.

[topgun-imagines]

Say My Name

Requested: no

Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.

His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.

The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.

“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.

Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.

Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.

Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.

Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.

Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.

The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.

The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.

You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.

“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.

You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.

Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.

Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.

As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.

The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.

Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.

Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.

“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.

The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”

The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.

After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.

You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.

His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.

For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.

The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.

With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.

For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.

Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.

Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.

“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.

One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.

You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.

“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.

Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.

Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.

This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.

Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.

Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.

In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @aviatorobsessed @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @rey26 @lt-spork @callsign-ember @tim-thefrog @zombi3wh0r3 @cheyrenee @nyctophilic0vitnir @labellapeaky @skylineskyler

Join my taglist!

[simpforrooster]

actually, it’s captain.

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.

t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.

Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.

Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”

You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.

“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.

“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.

And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.

“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.

Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.

But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.

You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.

Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”

Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.

“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.

“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.

“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”

At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.

“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.

Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.

Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”

“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.

You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.

“Yeah?” he murmurs back.

Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.

“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.

Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.

Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.

“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.

“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.

[thewulf]

Good News || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.

A/N: This one came so quickly to me. It's just pure fluff. All the Jake Seresin fluff! Short but sweet. Hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k +

Your eyes flipped back to the calendar on the wall with a big red circle around today. You’d probably looked at that calendar a thousand times over the last six months as you waited. Waited agonizingly every single day praying you wouldn’t get a knock on your door or the dreaded phone call.

Jake had been deployed on a carrier off the coast of Israel in the Mediterranean Sea for the last six months. You knew it came with the territory when you started dating him all those years ago. It terrified you every single time he came to tell you he was off on a mission or going on orders overseas. You’d never show it, only your utmost support and confidence in the man. But you knew how dangerous it was. He told you about all the men and women he’s seen gone down and some never making it home in his short span as a pilot in the Navy. It didn’t just terrify you, it rocked you all the way down to your core. What if he didn’t make it home? He was a hell of a pilot, one of the best that was flying, but things didn’t always go your way. He knew that. You knew it. Everybody seemed to know it.

But today was the day. He was coming home. After the months of shitty less than communication and trying your best to stay distracted it was here. He was safe. He was alive. You’d talked to him just a few hours ago. Waiting.

Jake’s parents picked you up from your shared home just off base that’d been eerily quiet in his absence. They didn’t want you driving in your hyper-fixated state. They never wanted you driving when it came to these kinds of events. They knew how much it tore you up when he was gone on deployment. If you didn’t fly down to Texas they made sure to fly to you. Just to keep you company. You hadn’t a clue how you’d gotten so lucky to have them in your life. And hopefully in the future as family. You never pushed it though. You didn’t want him to panic and ran. And truth be told you’d be fine never marrying him so long as he was like this in your life. Your best friend and love wrapped up in one.

“Are you excited?” His mom asked seeing you nearly bouncing out of the backseat once the car rolled onto base.

“Oh Nancy,” you could only nod your head in confirmation, “I’m more than excited.” Your cheeks were starting to burn from the big cheesy grin you were wearing.

His dad, David, spoke up, “I know Jake is just as excited.” He smiled just feeling the excitement in the air. These days were truly the best. Six months was a long time to be away. The longest deployment he’d been on in years.

The three of you made small talk as David drove to the base. Once parked, you happily led the older couple over to where the sailors would stand before they waited to be dismissed. You watched as the hundred or so men and women aboard the ship departed to their designated formation. Your eyes scanned for your loved one. Your Jake.

Finally spotting him you waited anxiously as the rest of the crew lined up. You just had to wait it out another ten minutes or so. They had to officially be dismissed before they could break for the family reunions. These last few minutes always seemed to draw on for decades trying to be as patient as possible.

You kept your eyes on him as he kept his forward. You hadn’t a clue that he already spotted you moments before you did him. But he had to keep his attention forward. No matter how anxious he was to see his favorite girl again.

They second they were dismissed Jake made a beeline right for you. Your face lit up in surprise as he headed right at you. Your body responding by moving forward you jumped right into his arms once he got close enough. He was more than ready. He wrapped his arms right around you securing you tightly to his chest while your feet locked behind him.

“Jakey.” You grinned hugging him tightly, afraid he’d be gone from your arms again you cherished every second like this. It made you realize how much you really did love the man you were holding so tightly. How much you craved him, everything about him. You’d rather not have had him gone for six months though. That was far too long for your liking. As if you had any say.

“Honey.” He cooed gently rocking you side to side. One arm snaked around your waist, one arm gently cradling your head in his hands, “You’re so fucking pretty. How’d you get even more beautiful? God I missed your face.” Jake leaned down capturing your lips in his. As gentle as he normally was with you this was hungrier. He really had missed you. Giving your hip as squeeze you felt him smile into the kiss as you squirmed away from his grasp.

Once you stopped giggling you looked right into his eyes smiling dopily, “And I missed yours, handsome man.” You gave him a wicked smirk before doing the unthinkable. Jake had warned you time and time again how he couldn’t show visible marks on the skin, or the Navy could have his ass. And maybe even yours if they were angry enough. You’d known they were empty threats, but you’d never dreamed of potentially hurting his flying in anyway. So, you’d never leave any marks.

Sliding his collar to the side you decided to throw caution to the wind seeing everybody lost in their own world with their own families. Jake’s parents were even admiring all the reunions around them instead of having their eyes fixated on the two of you. They loved watching all the joy every time. Nancy always made sure that every sailor was feeling the love. That was just one of the reasons you’d fallen in love not only with Jake but his entire family. His mom was as sweet as they came. His dad just as caring but even more tough. It was no wonder Jake was the way he was. Albeit a little more of an asshole than either of them even combined.

“Ma’am. That is abhorrent.” A vaguely familiar voice made you focus on your surroundings once more, “This is Destruction of Government Property.” You heard a cough from behind Jake drawing you away from your boyfriends neck. The look you sent could’ve killed him if it were at all possible. Bradley fucking Bradshaw. Was he actually serious right now?

You felt Jake’s laughter in his chest before you heard it. Flicking your eyes up momentarily at him you kissed him on his cheek before flipping Bradley off, “I don’t care Bradley.” You continued flipping him off while Jake held you tightly to his chest.

“Sweetheart…” Jake tried to warn you. The government really did own his ass. But his Commanding Officer was cool. He wasn’t expected to be back on base for another few weeks… what did a few hickies hurt? You knew the drill, but it didn’t seem to matter as you clung to him like he was about to vanish at any second. He looked down at your doe eyed expression, “I missed you.” He finished realizing just how hard deployment really was on you. The two of you were going on year five together. He’d been a pilot for all of them. He’d flown his hardest missions during that time. Your support never wavered. But seeing you like this? Like you’d never see him again… it hurt him. It hurt knowing you were feeling like that.

“You’ll care when there are Naval Officers on your doorstep.” Bradley tried. He really did. But you really didn’t care. You missed him more than anything. You didn’t care that his parents were there watching. You just missed him. Missed his corny ass jokes and the soft touches he always threw your way. You missed the sweet smiles and laughter that came with being around him. 

“So be it. Worth it.” You giggled as Jake pinched your sides again bringing your attention back to the man you’d dreamed about every day.

“Eyes over here darling.” He made sure to flip Bradley off before holding you back in his arms once again. He wouldn’t let you drop your hold on him. He wanted you close. He didn’t care either. He’d craved you for those months. He’d forgotten just how bad deployment got. Bradley mumbled some incoherent words before disappearing off into the crowd.

Kissing his cheek once more you nodded, “Sorry Jakey.” Brushing your hands through his hair it felt like it really was just the two of you there. Like nobody else was around.

“No need to apologize.” He whispered in your ear sending immediate chills down your spine, “You didn’t answer my question though. How’d you seem to get even more beautiful while I was gone?”

You truly felt like a little schoolgirl was a nasty crush on a boy way out of your league. He was so sweet to you and only you. Not having a clue why. You loved watching him interact with everyone else. He was so different than the man who came home to you every night. But that was Jake. Tough as they come. Sweet as can be. The biggest fight the two of you had was when he came home and told you about the six month long deployment a year ago. You didn’t even fight you were just sad. Sad that he volunteered to go. Volunteered and didn’t tell you. The two of you worked through it though. You always did.

“Shush. You’ve just been trapped on a big boat for so long I’d be offended if you didn’t think I was pretty.” You wanted to kiss him so bad. You didn’t even remember the kiss you gave him once you spotted him walk off the ship. You blacked out, truly.

“Never ever.” He grinned, “I’ll never stop complementing my beautiful girl.”

You squeezed your arms around him pulling him so much closer. You’d melt into him if you could, “You’re too sweet to me Mr. Seresin.”

He shook his head, “Not enough, I’d say.” He took the lead this time leaning down to give you a soft, sweet kiss that was far too short for your liking.

“I love you.” You whispered to him feeling oh so happy. So beyond excited he was holding you in his arms once again. You tried to step away to give his parents a chance to say hello, but he only held you tighter. Shaking his head.

“Love you too, gorgeous girl.” He hummed placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “That was it, by the way.”

You scrunched your eyes together in confusion, “What?”

He nodded his head with that larger than life smile on his face, “You’re looking at Captain Jake Seresin. Command Ground Officer.” He emphasized ground with wide eyes.

“Jake! Congrats. You didn’t tell me! Does this mean you’re here? Permanently?” Looking at him expectedly. It hit you just how good it could really get once you knew he’d be sleeping by your side every night.

He nodded his head in excitement, “At least for this job. I’ll still be flying but more on the leadership side. Training. Preparing them.”

You didn’t think your heart could swell any larger in love. But there it went. Only Jake could do that. You knew it. He knew it, “You’re not kidding right? Like you’re being serious?”

“Yes sweetheart. So serious.” He kissed your nose this time. He missed you more than you could’ve imagined. It was an impossible six months. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He couldn’t be away from you anymore. Lucky for him he had options. They let him choose. He choose to ground himself from missions. It was time to grow up and move on. He’d accomplished everything he sought out to and more already in the air. Now he was on a mission to rise to the top. Admiral Jake Seresin had a ring to it. 

You wanted to squeal but knew you had eyes all over you. Anybody could’ve been watching, “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while J.”

“Just you wait.” He grinned ear to ear leaning down once more, whispering into your ear, “Won’t even be the best news you’ve heard all day.” Leaning all the way down he kissed you with a little bit more but keeping it PG. His parents were standing there a little annoyed that he’d chosen to be with you for so long before he even acknowledged them. But they knew. They knew the raw power of love. How much it could sway and dissuade. How deeply Jake was in love with you and how much you were with him.

“Oh? Do tell.” You pulled away looking at him curiously.

“You’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows just to egg you on.

You narrowed your eyebrows in on the man you loved so dearly, “You know how much I hate surprises.”

He laughed gleefully, “Oh darling, I know.” He pulled you back into him momentarily, “Promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Promise?” You knew he’d keep true to his word, but you wanted to hear him confirm it.

“I promise you darling. Just you wait.” Squeezing your hand, he finally walked over to his parents bringing you right along with him. Only dropping your hand as he went in for the hug with his mom.

Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @genius2050

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck. 

Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.

He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob. 

"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."

Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."

She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.

"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."

He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."

"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."

Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder. 

"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"

She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.

"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."

"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"

"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.

"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."

"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"

"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."

Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was. 

"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"

Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."

Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house. 

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

"Dr. Webber."

Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.

In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.

"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help. 

She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.

It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look. 

The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.

WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!

If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.

Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch. 

If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again. 

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."

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

"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."

But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale. 

"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison. 

It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.

With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"

"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet. 

"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."

Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?

But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.

"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."

"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"

Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.

"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now. 

"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."

Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"

"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself. 

She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches. 

"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.

"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"

"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.

"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."

"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."

Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.

"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.

Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head. 

"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot. 

Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"

"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?" 

"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"

"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"

"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"

"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"

"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."

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

Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me? | Ch I

| Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

series masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake gets a terrifying call in the middle of the night that has him rushing to his ex-wife's side. Y/N is put in the middle of two men who she cared about. The Seresins get shocking news.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: emergency rooms, medical inaccuracies, mentions of blood, childhood cancer, fighting, divorce, mentions of cheating

“What happened?” Jake asked, out of breath as he ran down the corridor. He had just fallen asleep when he got a frantic call from his ex wife. He could hardly make out the words she was saying to him, but he managed to understand that she was taking their daughter to the ER. It was like a hot knife in Jake’s chest as he sprinted out of bed and broke nearly all traffic laws to get to the hospital. 

Y/N’s was shaking like a leaf in the wind, as she took a step away from the large window where she had been watching doctors and nurses tend to her child, “I-I don’t know,” Her voice was thick with tears, her eyes and nose red. The only thing she wore was a nightgown and a jacket over it, “Ella, sh-she has had this cough and it hasn’t gone away and she started complaining about not being able to breathe and then. . .” Y/N sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate down, “There was so much blood.” 

“Shh, shh,” Jake pulled her into his chest, cradling the back of her head. A loud sob racked through her body, and Jake held her tighter, “Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you some tea and a snack.”

Y/N nodded her head, and let Jake guide her through the hospital to the waiting room. Her body felt heavy as she collapsed in the chair. The only image flashing through her mind was of her daughter standing in the doorway of her room with blood all over her shirt. Y/N closed her eyes, rubbing them with the heel of her hand. Ella had been complaining about her chest hurting and this persistent cough that would not go away. Y/N just thought it was her being sick with the common cold. 

“Here,” Jake said, holding a foam cup and a granola bar out to his ex-wife. Y/N gingerly took the items and Jake sat down in the chair next to her. The tension stretched over them as they both sat in silence, Y/N nibbling on the granola bar and Jake fiddling with his fingers. The last time they had sat this close to one another was when they were in couples therapy. Most of the time, if they had to sit near each other, they would put one of the kids in the middle. 

“I’m sorry I called you so early,” Y/N mumbled, breaking the silence. 

Jake looked at her, a small frown on his face, “I’d rather you did than wait until morning. I know you hate doctors.”

“Had to get over that this past year.” 

A year. It had been a whole year since Jake signed those papers, and Y/N had walked out of his life. It had been a year of utter misery for the both of them, but their pride got in the way of being able to admit that. It had been a year of awkward conversations while dropping the kids off at each other’s houses. A year of avoiding each other at Dagger family events. A year of tears and aching hearts when the other mentioned going out on a date. A year of suffering because of one mistake. 

“Well, Ella is my daughter,” Jake said, sitting up in his seat, “And I am going to be here for my daughter, no matter what time it is.” 

They both agreed in the divorce to keep things as civil as they possibly could for the sake of the children. Jake didn’t fight Y/N on custody, only asking that he gets them on the weekends. Y/N still allowed Jake to come over as often as he wanted to, and he was at the house most nights. Jake hated going home to that small on-base house that was nothing compared to the beautiful craftsman they had bought together after Eli was born. Y/N let Jake stay for dinner, and help with bath time, before getting the kids to bed. It was always awkward when he’d leave for the night; both of them wanting to ask the other if they would stay. 

“I know,” Y/N swallowed, “I just. . . I don’t know.” 

The silence stretched back over them. The lobby of the emergency room was surprisingly busy for an early Tuesday morning. Drunkards were waiting to get fluids to sober up. A couple who looked like they were about to have a baby sat in the corner, the man coaxing his wife through breathing exercises. A sad looking elderly man with a deep frown etched on his face. A mother holding her child to her chest, soothing his hiccups. Y/N longed to be able to be back with Ella, but the doctors had ushered her out of the room when Ella quit breathing. 

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when a voice called out to her, “Y/N.” 

“Miles,” She stood up from her chair, “W-what’s going on? Is Ella alright?” 

“You’re my daughter’s doctor?” Jake said, eyeing Miles up and down. 

Y/N shot a glare in Jake’s direction. Now was not the time to get in a pissing match. 

“I am,” Miles said, brushing off Jake’s comment, “I was working a round in the ER when she came in. I’m also lead pediatric surgeon.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jake muttered, “Of course you are.”

“Anyway,” Miles continued, “We ran some tests on Ella, a simple blood test and then an X-Ray,” He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Y/N’s hand reached out for Jake’s on instinct, squeezing it, “Her blood test came back showing signs of abnormal cell growth, and there’s a small mass on the right lower lobe of her lung.” 

It was as if Miles had slugged Y/N in the chest. She sat down, afraid her knees were going to give out if she were still standing. The words Miles and Jake were sharing might as well have been a world away, as none of it was making sense to her. 

“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, her voice felt foreign to her as she looked up at the men, “How did I miss this?” 

“We don’t really know,” Miles said softly, “Sometimes, the body just creates abnormal cells. Lung cancer in kids looks totally different than lung cancer in adults. It’s not your fault.” 

Y/N nodded her head and looked down at her hands, “So what do we do?” 

“We’re gonna discharge her for today, and send you home with some medicine to help suppress the cough. Then we’re gonna get you set up with an oncology appointment, run some more tests and we’ll go from there.” 

“Can we see her?” Jake asked. 

“Of course,” Miles nodded his head, and told them Ella’s room number. 

Jake sat down next to Y/N, letting out a deep sigh. This was the last thing he thought was going to happen when Y/N called him at 2:30 in the morning. The only person Jake knew to have lung cancer was his grandfather, and it was a bitter end to his life. Hospitals, and oxygen masks, and not being able to do anything but lay in a bed and wait for death to come. It wasn’t what he imagined for his little girl. Not in this lifetime. 

“You never told me what happened between you and Miles?” Jake asked, looking over at Y/N. 

She let out a sigh, stretching her arms out and flexing her fingers, “Just didn’t work out.” 

Truth was, Y/N was so irrevocably in love with Jake, that being with Miles was only going to cause more harm than good. Miles had been the perfect guy; he was respectful, kind, he cared about Y/N’s kids and treated them with respect as well. He also loved her, flaws and all. And that was the issue. Miles loved Y/N more than Y/N could ever love him. It broke her heart to have to break up with him, but she couldn’t let him continue to think that something was going to happen. 

Jake hummed, “I thought you two were going to get-” 

“Can we not talk about my love life right now?” Y/N snapped, looking at her ex, “Now is not the time.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “She’s going to be okay, ya know?” Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, “She’s strong and healthy, just like you.” 

Y/N nodded her head, “I know. It’s just not what I want for her. I hate this!” 

Jake wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought her into him. He hated seeing her cry and in the past year, he had seen her shed a lot of tears. Over the years, Y/N got better at stuffing her emotions down. It was hard raising kids with a husband who flew jets at supersonic speed into dangerous territories. She had to become both mentally and physically strong to withstand the months of Jake being gone and her left to raise the kids. Now, those emotions came crumbling down. 

“Let’s go back and see her, okay?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. She wordlessly nodded her head and Jake stood up, helping her to her feet. 

They rode the elevator in silence up to the pediatric floor where Ella was. When the doors opened they were met with bright colored green and blue walls with various animals painted on them. Children were just starting to wake up on the floor, as nurses and aids went into their rooms with colorful cups of medicine. Some parents had spent the night, sleeping on a cot next to their child’s bed, other parents were just arriving with cups of coffee and tired looks on their faces. Y/N was surprised at how warm the unit felt. That was the one thing she hated about hospitals. They always felt so cold and lonely. But the pediatric ward was filled with bright smiles, and laughter. 

Jake knocked on the door to Ella’s room, which had a painted unicorn on it, “Knock, knock,” He said, slowly opening the door. 

“Daddy!” Ella exclaimed. Jake rushed over to the bed, and hugged his little girl tightly. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her illness, but she felt smaller in his arms than she had ever felt, “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too Ella Bella,” Jake said softly, and placed a kiss on her temple, “How are you feeling?” He helped her lay back in bed, and covered her with a blanket. Y/N silently walked to the otherside of Ella’s bed as Jake sat down on the small mattress. 

“I’m tired,” Ella yawned, “Nurse Becky gave me strawberry jell-o and Auntie Val saw me when I had my pictures done!” 

“She did?” Y/N asked, trying her best to sound happy. She made a mental note to contact her best friend and tell her how thankful she was for her visit to Ella. If there was one thing about Val Machado, it was that she was going to care of her friends’ kids. Val even said once the Seresin kids were basically her kids and vice versa. 

“Yes! She gave me a unicorn sticker! Like the one on the door!” Ella held up the sticker that was on her hospital gown. 

“That’s beautiful baby,” Jake said, his green eyes full of love as he brushed his hand over her cheek. 

“Daddy,” Ella said softly, “Can I go home now?” 

“Yes Elles,” Jake nodded his head, “We’re gonna go home. You, me, and Mommy.” 

A weird feeling went through Y/N’s chest when Jake said they were all going home. She tried her best to ignore it, knowing that Jake was only saying words to comfort their daughter. When a nurse came in, Y/N and Jake excused themselves to go sign some paperwork and set up the next doctor’s appointment. They sat on opposite sides of a round table, Jake filling out insurance forms while Y/N sighed Ella’s discharge forms. 

“You shouldn’t have told her that you were coming home,” Y/N muttered. 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “Why? I am coming home with you guys.” 

“Jake,” Y/N sighed, setting the pen down. 

“No,” Jake answered, “I am not just gonna go back to base and pretend like everything is fine and dandy. Cause it’s not fine and dandy, Y/N. Our child is sick.”

“I know,” Y/N’s voice became thick with tears, “I know this, Jake.” 

“Then don’t push me away,” Jake sounded defeated, “Not now. Not when we need each other the most.” 

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, “I just don’t know if I can forgive you.” 

“You don’t have to,” Jake said, getting up from his chair and going over to kneel in front of his wife. He grabebd her hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them, “You don’t have to forgive me now or ever. But you need someone to rely on and be there just as much as I need someone to rely on and be there. This isn’t going to be easy. . . but we are the only ones who will understand what we are going through. We need each other right now.” 

Y/N bit her lip and nodded her head, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of hope and longing. 

“Okay,” Y/N said again, sniffling, “Let’s go take our baby home.”

taglist: @yanna-banana @kmc1989 @soulmates8 @averyhotchner @fandom-life-12 @devil-angel-winchester @jazminlahey20 @jessicab1991 @reidshearts @princess76179 @dizzybee03 @dempy @kellyls04 @daddymack01 @beautifulandvoid @noonenuts @bradleybeachbabe @its-the-pilot @buckysteveloki-me @shibble @a-library-ofmy-own @fanfictionismyhobby @emilyoflanternhill @seitmai @moonlessnight14 @hardballoonlove @sgt-barnesveins @vhkdncu2ei8997 @1nterstellarcha0s @krispybearbouquet @a-serene-place-to-be @seresinslady

taglist form

[joaquinwhorres]

Tailspin - Part 1 (Fanboy Garcia x F!OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Having grown up just across the bridge from North Island, Carolina Alvarez has been told her whole life to stay away from the Top Gun boys. And for the most part, she has. That is, until Fanboy catches her putting quarters in the jukebox at The Hard Deck and initiates a game of cat and mouse that ends with her exactly where she swore she’d never be.

PAIRING ››››› Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x F!OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 5,721

WARNINGS ››››› None

MASTERLIST ››››› Here

A/N ››››› These two are my babiest babies. I'm absolutely in love with this couple. Mickey is such an underrated character, and everything I've been planning for this love story just has me so excited to share more of this.

If Caro had things her way, they wouldn't be here.

Instead, the group of girls would be in the middle of a dancefloor, surrounded by strangers as they downed enough shots to feel like they were living inside of a synth pop song.

She'd even be happy with taking over a line of stools at the shitty bar three blocks down from their apartment, drinking beer and alternating between telling stories and guessing at what was happening on the sporting event broadcasted on the TVs.

And if there was no other acceptable place in the vast array of options that the San Diego nightlife offered, they could have bought a couple bottles of wine and binged The Bachelorette from the comfort of their own home.

But they were here. And instead of a scandalously tight dress or shorts and a cute tank top or a soft set of pajamas, she wore a cotton sundress from Old Navy which had only been meant for Sunday dinners with her abuela. Then again, wearing it to the pseudo-goodbye party for her best friend for the past four years seemed like an acceptable exception. 

Sami grinned at her across the table. "I still can't believe you agreed to come here," she said.

Caro shrugged. "You have to finish your bucket list, and I wanted to spend time with you." 

"But you're here," Sami said, gesturing around the room. "You hate this place." It felt surprisingly cramped for a beach front bar where one whole wall was windows. If Caro had to guess it had something to do with the little model airplanes and mugs that hung from the ceiling and the fact that every wall that wasn't a window was covered with Navy memorabilia. The bar also might have felt more crowded than it actually was given that half the people here wore the same tan uniform. But as small as the place felt, there was a relaxed atmosphere that permeated the place, reminding her of her abuela's living room during a family party.

"I don't hate this place," Caro corrected, her tone suggesting Sami's ridiculousness. "Just everything it stands for." 

Sami laughed at this, and the other girls broke into smiles and shaking heads. 

"Drinks are good though," Caro said, toasting Sami with the Collins glass of her mojito. "And the company's not bad." 

"You can't tell me you don't enjoy the eye candy either," Amber added, lifting the tiny black straw and pointing it towards the group of Navy guys in the back whose loud cheers carried across the bar as one of them stood up from where they'd just taken a shot on the pool table. He was shaking his head, but a friend had already peeled off from the group and towards the bar.

"It's like they were plucked out of an Abercrombie ad," Amber said, her voice laced with awe. 

"That's their whole appeal," Caro remarked, watching as the red haired pilot drummed his hands against the bar top waiting to be served. 

Sami acknowledged this with a nod of her head and wry smile. "You're not wrong." 

"You're a little wrong," Kayleigh disagreed, punctuating the statement with a pause and a glance around the table to make sure she had everyone's attention. "They're fantastic in bed."

Caro rolled her eyes with a smile as Amber and Sami laughed. Kayleigh took a sip from her drink looking very self-satisfied. 

"I'm sure they're only half as good as they think they are," Caro remarked, and Kayleigh gave another shrug. 

"Still three times better than most men." 

As Kayleigh was the only one with experience, having snagged a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Texan pilot last year, Caro ceded the point with an incline of her head.

"Speaking of all this," Sami said, waving a hand in Kayleigh's direction. "You need to help me with strategy." 

This seemed like an excellent opportunity for Caro to slip away and make her way over to the corner of the bar that she'd been eyeing all night. "Got it," Caro said, pointing a finger at Sami. "I'm going to go find the perfect song to make someone come over and sweep you off your feet." 

Sami's brows furrowed in confusion before her eyes landed on the old fashioned jukebox that was currently belting out Creedence Clearwater Revival. Her face softened into a teasing grin. "I'm not going to see you for the rest of the night, am I?"

"Not if everything goes according to plan," Caro shook her head, scooching out of the booth. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress before looking up at her friends. "Any requests?"

The group shook their heads, and Caro turned away from them, weaving through the crowd towards the jukebox, its neon lights guiding her way.

There was something innately comforting about sifting through a jukebox's catalog of songs. Even when she found herself in the very place she'd been warned away from for most of her life, at least she was here with the Beatles and the Eagles and Patsy Cline. The familiar song titles greeted her like old friends' faces in a high school yearbook, and as she flipped through them and remembering people she'd forgotten about and finding other surprises like "Mambo No. 5" it was enough to put her at ease for the first time all night. 

Sami might be leaving. Adulthood might be before her. But her music was here and would be for as long as there were jukeboxes.

So, even when she sensed someone come up behind her, she didn't stop to look at them or feel tension creep up her spine at the prospect of conversation. She remembered that a jukebox naturally caused lines and that she had all night to peruse through its songs before making sure her friends were either going home with someone else or safely back in the Lyft with her. 

Caro finally located the song she had been searching for in the back of the alphabet, pressing in the number and smiling softly as the familiar strums of the guitar filled the bar along with the shaking tambourine. 

It was in this moment, as she listened to the first few lines of the song and fiddled with her next quarter, that the person behind her spoke. 

"This is a great song." 

Caro looked over her shoulder, finding a young Naval officer with a buzzcut standing a few paces behind her. Maybe, if he hadn't been so right that this was a great song—or if he hadn't left so much space between himself and her, honoring the privacy of her jukebox ritual–or if hadn't offered up the warm and earnest kind of smile he gave her—maybe, if he hadn't done all that, she would have just nodded or shot a quick smile and gotten out of there. But instead, because he seemed to get it and the compliment was simple and straightforward and not about her at all, she offered her own genuine smile back along with a "Thanks." 

"It's the Temptations right?" he asked, taking a step closer.

The smile faded from her lips as her lapse in judgment became all too clear. 

"Van Morrison, actually," she corrected, turning back around to the jukebox and slipping her second quarter in.

She flipped through the pages slightly faster this time, passing by "Dancing in the Moonlight," "Hey Mickey," and "American Girl" as she worked her way back to the beginning of the alphabet. Behind her, she could feel the officer take another step closer, and her back stiffened. Rather than continue to creep up behind her, though, he moved into her line of sight, standing next to the jukebox to watch the catalog pages turn.

"Need a recommendation?" he asked, shooting a slightly more hesitant smile than before, this one going completely ignored. 

 "From the man who thought The Temptations sang 'Brown-Eyed Girl?'" she asked, letting the question sink in as another two pages of song options went by. "I'm good." 

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head at himself. "Maybe I can redeem myself."

"And maybe I'm not interested," Caro retorted. 

The words hung in the air between them, the sheepish smile slipping from his face, instead replaced by a slightly bewildered expression. She couldn't entirely blame him. The words had come out sharper than she'd meant them to, and all things told, this was far from the worst pick up attempt she'd ever faced. 

Her finger slipped from the next button as her shoulders relaxed from where they'd been raised in defense. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I just–I don't date sailors, so you're wasting your time with me."

Confusion overtook his features, his eyebrows drawing together in a questioning look as his head tilted to the left. It was almost like he'd never experienced rejection, which, based on his boyish good looks, wouldn't be all that surprising.

"You do know you're at a Navy bar, right?" he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"And you know people come to bars for reasons other than picking someone up, right?" she returned, mirroring the head tilt.

He laughed at this, acquiescing the point with a nod. "I don't suppose it'd make a difference if I told you that I was more of a pilot than an actual sailor, would it?" 

She eyed his haircut which was unusually basic for a Top Gun boy. His demeanor also seemed to hide the trademark overinflated sense of ego especially well. Compared to Kayleigh's Texan from last year, she had to wonder if he was lying in hopes that her answer would be anything other than what it was.

"Not a good difference," she remarked, a smirk curling up the corner of her lips. "I don't even talk to Naval Aviators if I can help it."

"In that case, I'm honored," he said, grinning good naturedly, and she shook her head at him, turning back to the jukebox and her selection.

He moved a bit closer to her, the smile fading as his eyebrow rose instead. "So, no Navy boys at all no matter what? No dating or flirting or letting them buy you a drink?" 

"Nope," Caro said, letting the "p" pop. 

"What about a song?" he asked, tilting his head towards the jukebox, and Caro felt a smile grow despite herself. She tilted her head to look up at him.

"I already put my quarter in."

"Another song?" he persisted, and she shook her head.

"If it means that much to you though, I'll dedicate my next song to you." Caro said, looking back down to the song selection. It was in the beat between her offer and his response that she found the perfect selection, pressing in the selection as he voiced his doubt. 

"This isn't going to be good is it?" he asked, and Caro grinned as she backed away from the jukebox. 

"It's a great song," she responded with a shrug before spinning on her heel and making her way back to her friends, enjoying the last verse of "Brown-Eyed Girl" in peace.

Upon arriving at the table she found they were down a girl. 

"What happened to Amber?" Caro asked, sliding back in next to Sami.

Kayleigh looked over her shoulder towards the bar. "She went over there to buy some girl a drink and hasn't come back." She shrugged, turning back to face the other two girls. "Looks like it's going well." 

Caro's gaze was drawn to Sami who seemed perfectly fine with Amber ditching the group for a girl despite the fact that tonight was their last night together and supposed to be all about Sami. Before Caro could comment on it though, Sami spoke. 

"Oooh, I like this song," she said, nodding along to the lyrics. "Good choice." 

"Thanks," Caro said, pausing to listen to "Fox on the Run" instead as she contemplated whether or not to push the issue of Amber's disappearance.

...you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

I've heard it all before…

Seeing Sami bop along to the upbeat song was enough to make Caro decide to let the issue drop. Instead, she steered the conversation into learning Sami's top picks of boys for the night and what she had nicknamed each of them. From there, Kayleigh picked out a few that she thought might be underrated–Buzzcut included–and both teased Caro mercilessly for her lack of interest in choosing any of the boys whatsoever. 

It was in the middle of pestering Caro to at least choose the one she'd find the least objectionable if they were the last two people on earth, that Sami stopped mid-sentence. "Didn't we, like, just hear this song?" 

The table quieted, each girl listening to the familiar tambourine and tenor voice.

"We definitely did," Kayleigh agreed, the confusion Caro felt mirrored on the other girls' face.

"I swear to God Caro, if you're going to John Mulaney us with 'Brown-Eyed Girl,' I'm giving out your number to every Navy boy in this place," Sami threatened. 

"I only put in the two songs!" Caro protested. "It's probably just a weird coi–" she stopped mid-thought, turning in her seat to face the jukebox. No one was there. Or anywhere near it really. But as she scanned the bar, finally finding Buzzcut sitting by the pool tables, the source of the repeat was all too clear. Because he was already looking at her. He smiled and mouthed something to her. 

As if she could read lips across a crowded bar. Or at all.

Annoyed confusion overtook her face, and he responded by tapping his ear. 

A reluctant, mildly amused smile grew as she shook her head and turned back to her friends.

"Oh my God, Caro, who are you smiling at?" Sami asked, bumping shoulders with her. 

"An idiot I met at the jukebox who keeps trying to shoot a shot he missed," Caro said, taking a sip of her mojito.

"There was an idiot at the jukebox, and you're just telling us now?" Sami asked, "Which one?" She stood slightly, looking over the crowd, and Caro flicked her arm. 

"Buzzcut, with the other Navy boys," Caro answered, fixedly taking another sip.

"The one with the smile?" Kayleigh asked, fully turning around in her seat to look. Caro flicked her too, but she just waved a hand back.

"He's cute. Even with that haircut," Kayleigh mused, nodding approvingly at Caro.

Caro gave her a very unamused look as Sami grinned. The final bit of "Brown-Eyed Girl" played out as the song shifted to the Beatles. 

And then she realized which Beatles song was playing and looked over to Buzzcut who offered her a smile and tilted his head towards the jukebox. As if to acknowledge that yes, he'd played this song too. She let out a small huff which could have easily been mistaken for a laugh as she looked back at her friends. 

Each of them were still, listening to the lyrics as if trying to deduce whether or not this was another song played for Caro. It hit them at exactly the same moment. 

So how could I dance with another? When I saw her standing there?

"So he totally played this song for you too," Kayleigh said. 

"Yeah." Caro nodded, not even bothering to deny it. She looked down at her mojito, attempting to stir the ice even more as the lyrics continued to sink in.

Well, she looked at me, and I, I could see

That before too long, I'd fall in love with her

"Oh my God, this is working on you, isn't it?" Sami bumped Caro's shoulder with her own. 

"It's not working. It's just surprisingly accurate," Caro refuted with a  jerky shrug.

"So is his heart going boom right now, then?" Sami pressed, and Caro spun in her chair quickly as the girls laughed at her quick reaction only to find no one approaching. 

She glared at them, sticking up her middle finger as the other two collapsed into giggles. 

"Look, you could at least let me live vicariously through you," Sami reasoned. "And if you won't let me have that as my going away present, you could at least continue this song battle for my enjoyment."

Caro sighed dramatically as she stood from the table, and Sami cheered. "This is for you, and just for you," she said, pointing a finger at Sami. 

"And it is much appreciated," Sami grinned back. With that, Caro took a long drink from her mojito before heading back off towards the jukebox. Buzzcut seemed to notice her approach and separated himself from his own friends, going to meet her, but instead she brushed past, not even bothering to look or speak to him on her way to the jukebox. 

Laughter followed in her wake as did, apparently, Buzzcut. 

Caro ignored his presence as she flipped through the catalog, looking for the perfect response. 

"Told you I can pick a good song," Buzzcut said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. 

"I don't think copying my song choice counts as you picking a good song," Caro responded, giving a shrug as she kept her eyes focused on the songs before her. 

"Obviously that doesn't count," he agreed. "I just had to get your attention somehow." 

"And annoy everyone else in the bar?"

He shrugged. "I annoyed you the first time it played, they can be annoyed the second." 

She shook her head, fighting the smile that was attempting to make itself known. "How thoughtful," she said flatly.

"My actual song was pretty good though." 

"It was the Beatles," she dismissed, eyes narrowing in on the jukebox's David Bowie offerings. "Of course it was good."

"Yeah, but it was so good it got you to talk to me again," he pressed, and Caro shook her head as she entered the number for "Modern Love."

She stepped back from the jukebox, arms crossed. "So is this like a bet?" 

Surprise infiltrated his face. "What? No–"

"A dare? Because if your friends told you to come over here to like get my number or something, I'm not interested, but I do have a friend who might be." Caro said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  

"There's no game or bet or anything," the boy protested, looking back over at his friends and cringing slightly as he turned back. "I just saw you across the bar and thought I'd take a chance. The only thing my friends are doing right now is watching me blow it pretty badly."

Caro's eyes darted towards the pool tables, finding a group of boys staring in their direction. One of them waved at her when he caught her gaze, and another elbowed him. Her eyes flicked back to the boy in front of her. 

"That's pretty embarrassing." 

He huffed a laugh and looked back up at her. "Extremely," he agreed. A silence took over between the two of them, as Bowie continued his song. 

Never gonna fall for Modern love, walks beside meModern love, walks on by

Buzzcut pointed to the jukebox, and Caro stepped aside, assuming his position on the side so she could watch him flip through the songs. He was mercifully quiet as he turned back towards the beginning of the alphabet. It took him a suspiciously short time to enter in the code, and as she matched it to the options available, she let out a laugh.

Take a Chance on Me - ABBA.

He looked up at her with eyebrows raised, and she shook her head. 

"It's my friend's last night in San Diego," she said, shrugging. "And she's the only reason I'm here. Once she's paired off with some Top Gun pilot and crossed it off her bucket list, I'm taking off." 

"Bucket list?" he repeated, quirking an eyebrow. 

Caro nodded. "It's a thing we did at the beginning of freshman year. We each made up a list of things we wanted to accomplish before we graduated and left for the real world, and she, for some unknown reason, decided that she wanted to take a Top Gun boy home." 

"I'm guessing you don't have that on your list," he said, an amused smile on his face. 

"That would be correct." 

"You know, I happen to know a couple of people that could help your friend out." 

"You could help my friend out," she returned.

He shook his head. "Not interested in your friend." 

"You haven't even seen her." 

"Don't need to." 

The comment hung between them and Caro rolled her eyes even as her cheeks warmed a bit. 

"Why don't you guys come over and join us," he said, gesturing with his head towards the pool tables and the group of pilots over there. "You get to hang out with your friend, and she gets to cross off her bucket list item." 

It was undeniably an offer she shouldn't refuse. It would give Sami the in she needed to be able to accomplish all of the major items on her bucket list, and she would still be able to spend time with her even as the other girl attempted to find her way into a pilot's pants. Knowing Kayleigh and the fact that it was practically a miracle no one had come up to whisk her away yet, she would also probably peel off with some pilot and have a great night. All Caro would have to do was put up with some admittedly respectful if not persistent flirting from a cute boy. 

There were worse ways to spend a Friday night. 

But as she looked over at her table and at Kayleigh and Sami laughing at each other, a protective jealousy rose up in her.

"As much as this might make me a terrible wingwoman, I kinda want to keep her to myself," Caro admitted, looking back at Buzzcut. 

His face was surprisingly understanding. "I get it," he nodded. "Goodbyes are weird." 

Caro pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, casting another glance at Sami, and wishing that she was a slightly better person. Instead she turned to the Navy boy and shrugged. "I'm sorry." 

ABBA started up on the jukebox and rather than responding he pointed to the jukebox as it sang the line: If you change your mind, I'm the first in line. 

Caro smiled. "Have a good night, and good luck, with everything…." 

"Mickey," he supplied. 

Her eyebrows rose. "Your callsign? Really?" 

He grinned sheepishly, shaking his head. "No, uh, it's my real name." 

Her jaw dropped. Actually hung open in disbelief. "No it isn't."

He nodded his head. "It is."

"Your parents named you after a cartoon mouse?" Caro asked, a laugh waving as an undercurrent in her voice.

He shrugged. "I think they just liked the sound of it." 

She shook her head in continued disbelief before looking back up at him. "Well, extra good luck with a name like Mickey," she said before turning around. 

"Do I at least get to know your name?" he called after her, and she looked over her shoulder at him. 

"Caro." 

He smiled, and despite herself, she did too before making her way, for the last time, to the booth that held both of her friends. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaand?" Sami asked as Caro once more sat down on the bench next to her. 

"That looked really flirty," Kayleigh said, putting her head in her palm. "You guys were smiling at each other a lot."

Caro shrugged. "He's nice." 

"He's nice," Sami mimicked, nudging at Caro. "And yet you're still over here with us." 

"Because he's still a Top Gun boy," Caro returned, pulling her mojito back over to her and taking a sip. 

Sami and Kayleigh gave each other a look before Sami turned back to Caro. "You knoooow," she dragged out, waiting for Caro to acknowledge her before continuing. "It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for you to have one one-night-stand. Just to celebrate graduation and the last day of your unbridled youth." 

Caro snorted at this, and even Kayleigh shook her head at Sami. 

"You know, listen to ABBA, take a chance," Sami pressed, and Caro turned back to her drink, taking a sip and ignoring her friend. Sami looked like she wanted to say more, but before she could further press the issue, her eyes flicked up as two boys approached the table.

One was the bar drummer from before, with light orange hair and a scattering of freckles across his nose. He hardly looked any older than them, and looked like he could be one of the frat boys from Fiji. Next to him was a dark skinned boy, his hair cut into a close cropped fade and his hands tucked into his pockets. 

"I don't suppose any of you know how to play pool?" The drummer asked.

Sami flashed a smile up at him. Because of course she was into the drummer. "When you say 'know,' does it mean I have to be any good?" 

He exhaled a laugh and shook his head. "We can teach you. We just need partners," he said, gesturing between himself and the other man. 

It was quite obvious that they didn't. For one thing, they could play just the two of them, and for another, the girls had witnessed them playing all night with the other people in their group. But, Sami didn't seem to mind how lame the excuse to talk to her was. Instead, she told him,  "Yeah, I'll play. Kayleigh?" 

Kayleigh eyed the quieter of the two, eyes dragging from his face down his thin muscular body to shined shoes. There was a pause before her eyes moved back to Sami. "Yeah, I'm in." 

"Great," he smiled. "You're welcome too by the way," he offered to Caro. "There's a group of us in the corner." She didn't even bother looking. She knew exactly what corner he meant and who was probably there eyeing her. It was well played, she had to admit. 

"Besides, you can watch me kick Kayleigh's ass," Sami said, motioning Caro out of the booth so that she could slip out to play pool. The guy laughed as the two girls joined them. 

Caro shook her head at her friends. "You guys have fun. I think I'm going to finish my drink and head out." 

"No," the two protested, but Caro continued to shake her head to ward off any protests. 

"I've got breakfast with my parents tomorrow," she lied. "I'd have to leave soon anyway." Sami frowned but stopped fighting, instead stepping forward to wrap Caro in a tight hug. The two girls swayed back and forth as Caro fought to keep herself from crying in front of strangers.

"I'll call you on the road tomorrow," Sami promised into Caro's hair, and Caro squeezed her even tighter. 

"You better." 

Sami pressed a kiss to Caro's cheek and then released her, offering an attempt at a smile and letting Kayleigh give Caro a goodbye hug. This one was quicker and after she released there was an awkward pause before Caro told them goodbye and the boys started back towards the pool tables, the girls heading off with them. 

Caro watched them leave, not even bothering to sit as she finished off the last of her drink and started towards the door, phone in hand to summon her Lyft. 

She had barely been outside for five minutes, her ride just picked up when the door behind her opened and a familiar voice spoke. "You weren't kidding about leaving, then." 

She didn't bother looking at him, instead eyeing the distance of her driver to the beachside bar. "Nope." 

"Need a ride?" 

This time, she did look at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm not getting in the car with a stranger who's been trying to take me home all night." 

He laughed, hands raised in front of his body as if to demonstrate he meant no harm. "Fair enough." He dropped his arms and the two stood in silence, Caro looking at the 12 minutes between Faruq's present location and hers. The silence wasn't long lasting though, as Mickey spoke again. "I have a proposal for you." 

"A proposal? Already?" Caro asked, and he laughed at her. 

"If I can guess your favorite song, will you give me your number?"

She eyed him: the hope and amusement on his face and the unassuming nature of his smile. Matched with the absurdity of his request, the proposal seemed entirely harmless. Almost ridiculously harmless. More as if it were for show for her than an actual request. 

"I'll cancel my Lyft if you can guess my favorite song."

He grinned slowly and then began nodding. "Alright. Ok." He patted down his pockets before noticing something over her shoulder. He darted away but before she could even turn to ask where he was doing, he was back, holding a cocktail napkin out to her. "Here, write it down on this so you can't change it."

Caro accepted the napkin but looked up at him. "I don't have a pen." 

He looked at her and then the napkin, eyes cutting to a group of girls huddling around the side of the building with colorful drinks in hand. "One second," he said, holding up a finger before walking backwards and then turning to go over to the group of girls. 

Caro watched as they each eyed him with interest and excitement, one letting her eyes trace up and down his body as he talked to her friend. Two of the girls dug into their bags with more enthusiasm than a request for a pen necessarily warranted, and Caro felt her lips turn up as she watched his face. 

He was completely oblivious in his eagerness.

Mickey looked over his shoulder, as if to check that she was still there, and seeing her looking at him with amusement, he smiled at her and then turned his attention back to the girls, one finally digging up an ugly yellow and purple Planet Fitness pen and passing it to him. 

Caro could tell he was thanking her before he walked quickly back over to her and passed it over. 

She shook her head, leaning against the railing to write down the song name, one hand cupping over her writing as she did so. "You realize that any of them would happily give you your number, right?" 

"No way," he said, shaking his head, and Caro paused her writing to give  a raised eyebrow up at him. "They were married." 

She leaned her head out, looking again at the group of girls, this time scanning their hands. At least three of them did have wedding bands on. Including the one who very obviously checked him out. 

"Besides," he said, pulling her attention back to him. "I don't want their numbers." 

She rolled her eyes and finished off writing the band name, passing the pen over to him to return. He did so quickly before coming back and looking at her with a mock intensity. His eyebrows narrowed, and he held his hand up to his chin. 

"Am I allowed questions?" 

Caro smiled and nodded. "Three. Yes or no only." 

"So I get three yes or no questions and one guess or I lose my chance?" he clarified, and Caro nodded.

"And you'll shake on it?" he asked. 

Caro laughed and offered her hand. "Yes, I'll shake on it." 

"Good," he said, taking her hand in his and shaking it a few times before letting it go and taking a step closer. 

"Hm." He squinted his eyes at her, back in his assessing mode.

"Is the song in English?" he asked, finally.

She nodded. Wondering if it was her own bronzed skin or cleverness that prompted the question. 

"Ok," he nodded, almost as if her answer confirmed his expectation. He waited another moment before asking his next question. "Does it make you nostalgic?"

She tilted her head at this, eyeing him herself. It was a surprisingly good question. Not only did it speak to when she'd heard it for the first time and its age  but it also covered the vibes of the song. 

"Come on, you have to answer."

She smiled, shaking her head."No. It doesn't make me nostalgic ."

"No," he repeated, eyes raised. "I'll have to think about this," he said, turning out to look at the parking lot. Her phone buzzed. Your Lyft driver is approaching. 

"Time's almost up," she said, looking up at him, and he furrowed his brow, eyes focused on hers as if trying to see into her head, reading her thoughts. 

A pair of headlights pulled into the parking lot, circling a row of cars as it started towards her. She shrugged, moving towards the black Nissan that pulled up next to the curb. 

"I still have a question," he called out, and Caro looked over at him.

Sami's words echoed in her head. Listen to ABBA. 

"How about this," she started, and he walked forward, closing the distance. "I'll come back on some random night and some random time this week and stay for a drink. If you happen to be here too, I'll give you a guess. If not, I'll go about my life, and you'll find someone else for the summer." 

A smile split his face in two as he nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. Shake on it?" 

She stuck out her hand again and he shook it. Even as he stopped moving it up and down though, he didn't let go, and despite herself and the Lyft driver patiently waiting for her to get into the car, Caro didn't pull it away. His thumb ran over the side of her hand, and she pushed the feeling of butterflies aside, keeping her face as straight as possible.

"Goodnight for good this time, Mickey," she said, attempting to slip her hand out of his. He stopped her with a slight squeeze before releasing his hold. 

"Goodnight for now, Caro," he said, allowing her to get into the car.

He stayed in front of the bar until the car pulled out onto the main road, and even then, she lost sight of him before he went inside.

Next Chapter >>

Tag List: @cantfighthemoonknight @rae-gar-targaryen @akabluekat @hairringtonsteve @chrissymunson @candlelitcabin @veetlegeuse @itsjustgracy @oneirataxia-girl @kingsmakers

[tinyhousegirl]

Astro - Chapter Four

A/N: Chapter Four is here! This one is long. Get ready for the roller coaster.

Read the synopsis and master list here!

Like what you're reading? Buy me a brick to help me save for a house!

Read on Tumblr below. Coming to AO3 soon!

The next afternoon after a long morning of flying, Astro was tasked with rounding up the pilots with one main goal: don’t let Cyclone find out. Maverick didn’t want him to know that twelve Navy pilots and their instructor were playing hooky today. Being the daughter of the famous troublemaker, Taylor was happy to sneak around through the barracks as her team finished lunch. 

She instructed them one by one to head to The Hard Deck in their comfiest beach attire. By the time she got out to the beach with a speaker and cooler of beer in tow, they were already building sand castles and lounging in the sun. Her dad stood out near the water with two footballs, smiling at his kid as she joked with Hangman over what he could only assume was an inside joke about sand. Taylor took a handful of it and smashed it over his head, instantly turning tail and running as the taller pilot realized what happened and gave chase. He let them lounge around for a bit before calling their attention to the edge of the water.

“Good afternoon, aviators!” The dozen pilots stood tall. “Welcome to Dogfight Football. You have two goals today. Score as many points as your team can without letting the other team score, simultaneously.” Shockingly, with little repetition, they all learned the short rules list and a mad dog of a competition came to fruition. 

The two teams lined up in a football-like formation, before Hondo yelled to start the round. Maverick and Hangman were appointed quarterbacks for the respective teams while the rest of them ran around, playing defense and offense. They all thought they were slick, but Penny’s point of view on the back deck of her bar showed what only looked like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off.

Taylor pointed at Natasha, glaring playfully at her over her aviators as they lined up against each other.

“Oh, don’t give me that finger, Astro. I’ll break you.” She teased, and the whistle blew. The two connected, shoving and laughing as they tried to one up each other, not even paying attention to the balls and their teammates. Finally, a wave caught Astro’s leg and Phoenix used that to flip her to the ground, landing with her legs straddled over Astro.

Taylor let out a breath, peering up at her friend above her. “You know, you’re not the worst person I’ve had on top of me.” She winked, and Phoenix splashed sandy water at her face. Taylor squirmed away from the water, laughing as she did. 

“I don’t date pilots.” Phoenix teased, squishing her hands into Astro’s leg to quit her squirming.

“OOOOOH, CHICK FIGHT!” Coyote howled across the beach, as the rest of the boys turned their way. A chorus of whistles and oohs arose from most of their mouths.

Phoenix moved away finally, offering a hand for Astro to climb to her feet. “Sorry boys, no free admission.” She yelled to them.

A retort of disagreements rang out. “What!? But what about your free admission,” Hangman paused, tossing both of his arms up, “to the GUN SHOW!” 

As Hangman flexed his arms, the rest of the very fit, very sweaty, very cocky Navy boys followed in his footsteps. Even Bob flexed his arms, mostly hidden behind his yellow t-shirt. Astro and Phoenix both shook their heads with laughter. Taylor peeked over her sunglasses at her boyfriend, his body chiseled like a God. The salt and sun and sweat accentuated his toned muscles extremely well and it took all she could muster to not jump on him at that very second. He caught her stare and winked, a goofy smile on his tanned face. 

“Don’t make me ring the bell at you boys.” Penny yelled at them with a smile and a tray of water. Maverick was smiling next to her with another tray. The pilots happily took the water break, thanking Penny profusely for hosting them and making sure they didn’t pass out. Taylor eyed her father’s puppy-in-love face as he watched Penny the entire time. She’d tease the hell out of him later.

Before long, they were in their next rounds of football, laughing and tackling each other in the sand again. Taylor got a kick out of tackling her father to the ground during one of the rounds. The older Mitchell stared with a shocked expression as she hollered excitedly, high fiving Jake. Bradley snuck in and extended an arm to him, which he happily took before pushing his kid off of her balance onto her butt as she had done to him. The Mitchell duo couldn’t help but laugh. A few rounds later, Taylor watched Jake throw the ball over her head and was shocked to see it land in Bob’s arms snugly. He looked up at her with wide eyes, unsure of what to do next.

“Run, Bob, run!” She darted with him, protecting him as he slipped through the piles of aviators before they noticed too late. Bob had scored in their endzone successfully. 

The dogfight quickly turned into a dogpile as the group all rushed to Bob, screaming and yelling at his successful score. Somehow Bob ended up on Rooster’s shoulders, the team cheering his name as he was paraded around. 

Maverick, Hondo, and Penny all stood to the side laughing at the show of camaraderie. Maverick’s insane plan to get them to work as a team somehow worked.

An hour later, the party began to disperse as exhaustion took over. Some of the boys were out in the ocean bodysurfing, Phoenix and Bob were building another sandcastle, and Maverick had disappeared into the bar with Penny for some much needed alone time before the bar opened for the evening.

Taylor was standing with her toes barely touching the water when she felt a warm hand slide around her waist, a finger hooking into her swimsuit bottoms comfortably. “Come here often?” 

Taylor leaned up to the sunburnt lips of her boyfriend’s, humming as she kissed him slowly. “No, but we should.”

He hummed in agreement. “Once this mission is over, maybe I’ll convince my command to station me here again. Get to see you and Ice open the exhibition. Finally work on the deck of the house.”

Taylor rolled her eyes, peering over her aviators at him. “Bold statement from Bradley Bradshaw. That deck is never going to be fixed.” She laughed. “I’ll just pay someone to come replace it.”

Bradley gasped and put a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Taylor Mitchell, you can’t just disrespect my manhood like that.” 

“Nah, if I’m gonna disrespect your manhood, I’m going to do it right.” She suddenly spun on him, hooking her fingers in the belt holes of his jorts. Before he knew it she was dragging him into the water by his waist, him barely able to keep his pants up. Once she had them both chest deep in the water, she happily turned and planted a salty kiss on his lips.

“Mmm. Taylor.” He mumbled in between breaths, picking her up by the thighs. “I love you.”

“I love you, baby.” They continued the sunset makeout session, only pausing to flip off the rest of the Navy boys as they yelled, ‘Get a room!’ at the couple. 

—

The next few days were much better after the break they all desperately needed. Their flying was better, banter was less targeted, and it seemed like they were finally However, the cheery attitude wouldn’t last. 

The day began with a briefing from Cyclone, informing the pilots of a drastic shift in the timeline. The nuclear plant was set to open earlier than expected, and they needed to move up their attack to avoid the potential of nuclear destruction. By a whole week. Taylor eyed some of her friends as the news broke, their expressions matching hers of absolute bewilderment. If this mission wasn’t already a Hail Mary, it certainly was now. Maverick had already given them the deeper explanation of the route they would be performing, but today he stood up in front of them again and gave his presentation, focusing on the critical importance of staying on time, proximity to their wingman, and constant communication. Maverick’s hardened face once again warned them about the hard turns and insane forces that their bodies would be forced into. 

Today she was partnered with Bob and Phoenix, with Maverick running the simulation from the skies. She had stayed up all night studying the route, jitters finally getting to the best of her as Bradley slept peacefully in their room. She focused on calculating angles of turns that she was expected to make at over 500 knots. She wanted this team leader position so bad she could taste it. Today would be the day she pulled in front of Rooster, in front of Hangman. She was flying for that title. 

“Good afternoon, aviators.” Her father’s cheery voice repeated his iconic phrase as her and Phoenix flew in formation out to their starting spot.

“Hi Maverick. We’ll see you on the other side of this run.” She tipped her wing up to his plane, smiling as he returned the wave. “Phoenix, Bob, you ready?”

“Oh yeah.” Astro clipped her mask in, throwing her jet into high gear. The pair of jets blurred across the California desert at just over a hundred feet as they approached the inlet.

“Starting the timer…NOW!” Astro punched her levers forward, speeding up quickly. Phoenix acknowledged and followed her lead. The pair flew in near perfect formation as they twisted and turned with ease through the canyon. Astro was feeling good on this run thanks to her late night, lack of sleep easily replaced by adrenaline as they continued on. 

“How are we on time, Bob?” Phoenix asked during a brief straightaway. 

“We are three seconds behind, increase speed.” Bob replied. 

“Increasing speed.” Astro acknowledged. They were quickly approaching the first climb. “Phoenix, prepare to climb, here we go!”

Astro yanked her yoke back as the jet nearly went vertical and punched her engines forward again, the force of the speed pinning her to her seat. She could hear Phoenix breathing heavily through the comms as they continued the climb through the G-forces. 

Once they crested, it was time to flip the jets for easier access into the valley. Astro hollered happily as she slightly rose out of her seat at the top of her upside down descent in. Gods, she loved flying. 

“Getting a lock, give me a few more seconds!” Bob chimed in. This part had been the hardest piece to this complex puzzle - the Miracle that no jet had made yet. 

“C’mon Bob, we’re closing in!” They were rapidly approaching the critical spot that would start the rough climb into Coffin Corner. 

“I’m trying, I can’t get the sensor to lock in!” 

“Bob!”

“It’s no good, I can’t get a lock. Blind fire, blind fire!” Astro followed his command, launching two missiles blindly towards the mock target that was prepared in the desert. “That’s a miss, repeat, the target was missed.” 

“Dammit!” Taylor pulled up hard, mimicking the pull they will have to make against the mountain in a week. Her body felt like ten tons as her plane launched into the sky, and her grasp on her yoke was slick. Phoenix was on her tail as the pair of jets climbed higher and higher. 

Suddenly, Taylor’s breath caught wrong in her throat as she struggled through the Gs and immediately her vision was tunneling to black. She pulled off her mask, fighting off panic, doing whatever she could to focus on the pull as they approached the top of the climb. She was determined to make this climb. It was the only way she’d beat out the men for leader. She needed this position. 

Astro’s jet leveled out suddenly, Phoenix having to dodge it narrowly as she completed the climb successfully. “Woah, Astro! You pulled up too soon. We have to breach the SAMs elevations first.” 

Bob turned to keep an eye on her plane as they whizzed by, confused as its nose began to fall. “Astro, are you okay?” He asked, squinting to see if he could see the solo pilot in her cockpit. 

“Astro, do you copy?” Phoenix asked as Maverick swung towards them for their air debrief, as he did with each team. He flipped his mask up to start the debrief until he saw his daughter’s plane lag forward, beginning to free fall. “Talk to me, Taylor!”

“Her nose is dropping quick, guys. I can’t see her moving!” Bob vocalized his fear as the jet gained free fall speed. 

“Shit, she’s in G-Loc!” Maverick panicked at the realization, pulling his jet out of formation with Phoenix and into a dive toward the spiraling hunk of metal with his daughter in it. 

Back in the training room, Rooster’s stomach plummeted as he listened to Maverick, Bob, and Phoenix all scream her name over the radio. He had been listening idly as he chatted with the rest of the team, but snapped to attention at the first sound of concern when he heard Taylor gasp in the middle of her climb. He knew something was wrong then, and only continued to shake in his seat at the continued comms from the air team. He knew what was happening in the skies above them. Bob was calling out her elevations, the number dropping too quickly. She was going to crash if she didn’t snap out of it and there was nothing he could do down here. A hand fell on his shoulder and he looked up at Hangman, whose face was white as a sheet listening as well. 

“Astro, pull up!” Phoenix begged.

Maverick’s jet sped through the air as he flipped his gun lock on. “Come on, sweetheart, come on! Taylor, wake up! Astro!” His lock gave a positive tone.

Suddenly, he heard a gasp through his headset and the plane below him pulled up at the last second. Maverick pulled an evasive maneuver as well, avoiding her plane and the ground. The younger Mitchell slowly steadied her jet below Phoenix and Bob’s craft, her father’s above her.

“Astro? You alright?” Phoenix yelled, looking down towards her friend.

“Yeah, yeah.” Taylor’s shaky voice echoed in the break room and both Rooster and Hangman let out the breath they didn’t realize they were holding. Bradley put his head in his hands and let out his own shaky sigh. He’d never heard anyone go into G-Loc, never wanted to ever again. 

“Let’s head home and regroup.” Maverick ordered before he grunted. “Bird Strike, bird strike!”

Bob screamed. “Phoenix, we’re on fire, we’re on fire!”

—

Rooster and Hangman rushed out of the hangar as her plane finally came to a stop. The canopy opened and Astro stumbled out. As soon as her feet hit the tarmac, she collapsed to the ground in a heap. 

“Taylor!” Bradley took off in a sprint. He could see her shaking as he skidded to a stop, falling to her side. Hangman was on his six as he pulled in next to her as well. Bradley cupped her cheek. “Hey, baby. Look at me.”

Her breathing was labored and in short spurts. She couldn’t get the image of the mountain just a few hundred feet in front of her out of her eyes, despite how many times she tried to blink it out of existence. Jake slowly eased off her helmet and clipped it to his belt, shielding her teary eyes from the bright sun with his body. She was pale, eyelids heavy from exhaustion. His heart ached at the sight of his wingman completely in shambles. Taylor’s hand reached up to grab Bradley’s wrist tight, grounding her to him as she desperately gasped for air. “Phe-Pheonix?”

Bradley smiled and shook his head in disbelief. Even in the face of her own death, she would always be more worried for everyone else. She must’ve been really dazed to not hear them respond to Maverick. “They’re okay, baby. Search and rescue already has her and Bob on their radars.”

“Oh, thank god.” She mumbled, tears catching in her eyes. “Thank god.” 

“What happened up there?” Rooster asked, rubbing her matted hair out of her face. She hadn’t been able to talk in the air with everyone focused on Phoenix and Bob. The Tower just wanted her grounded as soon as possible while Maverick flew search and rescue for the other jet until their emergency trackers came online. The only words out of her mouth had come out as muscle memory responses as she landed her fighter jet back in Miramar, leaving the other three aviators out in the desert. 

Taylor seemed to be reaching for an answer, but instead she let out a quiet sob in response.

“Hey, come on. Let’s get you out of this heat to sick bay.” Hangman commented, helping her to her feet slowly. She leaned into Bradley, legs barely keeping her up. Rooster shook his head and swept her gently off her feet into his arms. She didn’t have the energy to protest. “Base infirmary, this is Lieutenant Seresin. We’re bringing Lieutenant Mitchell in for a checkup.” Hangman mumbled into his helmet before following Rooster towards their destination.

—

“Hangman?” 

Jake stood up, years of attention forcing his body to go rigid until he realized who had called his name. Maverick rushed towards him, the worried look only a father could have adorning his face. This was dad, not instructor, and he loosened as the man approached. “She’s gonna be fine, sir, just a bit dehydrated. They’re discharging her.” 

Maverick let out a sigh of relief. Hangman didn’t catch the quiet ‘thank you, Goose’ that came out of the older pilot’s mouth. 

“How’s Phoenix and Bob?” He knew they were somewhere in the infirmary, but he had stuck to Taylor’s side. He didn’t want her to be alone. 

“They’ll keep them overnight just in case. Where’s Rooster?”

“He bolted a while ago, didn’t say where he was going. I figured I would take her home.” Hangman rolled his eyes in disapprovement. 

Maverick took a deep breath. “Thanks, Seresin. You all take it easy tonight.”

“Yes sir.” Maverick began to walk away before Hangman called out. “Maverick, if you see Rooster, tell him he’s an idiot for leaving her here.” 

A few minutes later, Taylor emerged from the room in a pair of athletic shorts and her favorite black Navy sweatshirt that Jake retrieved from her locker. The color had returned to her cheeks and she was feeling a lot better with the IV fluids they gave her. Her nurse told her to take it as easy as one could while learning to fly a suicide mission. 

“Ready to go?” Jake extended his arm, meeting her halfway. She smiled as she took it, but he couldn’t miss the disappointment of seeing him standing there instead of a different aviator. Jake opened his truck door for her, then climbed in the driver’s seat.

Before he put the key in the ignition, he let out a sigh. “Why do you still love him?” Taylor turned to her friend, eyebrows knitting. “I’ve been in the front row seat of this thing for years, and I just can’t figure out why someone as perfect and sweet as you still stays by his side.” He confessed, refusing to make eye contact with her, already regretting asking such a personal jab.

“Jake.” Taylor sighed, leaning her head back against the seat as she came up with an answer. But he kept opening his mouth instead.

“You almost died today, Taylor. He ditched you at the hospital. What man does that?”

She sighed, blinking the mountain away again. “I don’t blame him for leaving. Last time one of us was in the base hospital, we said a lot of things neither of us were proud of.” Taylor set her hand on his shoulder. “Jake, I promise if anything was out of the ordinary, I would tell you. We were doing really well before he deployed, even talked about marriage. It just sucks that this mission is the first time we’ve seen each other in months, and the history with my father is not helping the stress. We’re gonna be okay, we always are. I know you worry about me, and I love you for it, but I promise I’m okay, too.”

Hangman nodded, satisfied at her response. But he had another burning question. “Are you okay after today?”

She let out an airy laugh, stifled as a lump quickly formed in her throat. “I’m trying not to think about it. No. But I’m ready to get back in the air and forget about it. I won’t make that mistake again, not if I want lead.”

Jake let a smile spread across his face. “Good, that means you’re not going easy on me for the rest of training. Game on. Enough sappiness, let’s get out of here.” He turned up the radio, flipping through his playlists until he found something to jam out to. They pulled out of the parking lot, getting off base as soon as possible.

“God, I’m ready for a drink.” Taylor sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. She silently cursed Jake for not grabbing her hair brush from her locker while he was in there.

“Ew, no, you’re gonna shower before I’m seen out in public with you. I have a reputation to keep, Mitchell.” Jake teased cockily as her phone rang in her breast pocket. 

“Says the guy with the secret girlfriend.” 

He guffawed. “How did you know about her?” 

“I didn’t, but thanks for confirming it.” She beamed and answered the phone, his face in denial and shock. “Hey Aunt Sarah.”

“Taylor, sweetheart, is your dad around?” 

“He’s somewhere. We had a hectic day so I’m sure his phone got set somewhere in the chaos.” She turned down the radio a few notches. “I should see him soon, what’s up?” On the other end of the line, she heard the quietest sob. “Sarah?”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” And suddenly reality felt like it was collapsing on her. “He’s gone, hun.”

Taylor’s breath caught. “W-what?” Jake looked over at her worriedly, only hearing half of the conversation but catching her shift in tone nonetheless. “I just talked to him last night.”

“He was too scared to tell you. He passed in his sleep this morning.”

“It came back?” Tears were falling down her face, Jake’s voice dull in her ears, telling her he was pulling over. All she could do was focus on the woman on the other end. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“It’s alright Taylor, we made our peace. I wish your dad could have told you so you could’ve said goodbye.”

“Maverick knew?” She was shaking, trying hard not to go back to the dark place she had been stuck at up in the air earlier today, fighting to breathe, fighting to stay conscious. But this was Ice, her Admiral, her Godfather, her family. And her own father knew something was wrong.

Taylor didn’t remember the phone being taken out of her hand as Jake leaned in to hug her. She sobbed into his chest on the side of the road. Jake was internally cursing at Rooster the entire time, knowing he shouldn’t be the one picking up pieces of her again, and yet, he wouldn’t dare to be anywhere else right now. 

—

“Phoenix and Bob are okay, they are keeping them overnight just in case.” Maverick said into the dark room. Bradley barely moved, the only movement being the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with every breath. “Taylor was discharged too, if you care.”

“That’s good.” He mumbled over his shoulder.

He could hear Maverick move into the room, the leather couch behind him creaking as the older pilot sat down. “You wanna talk about today? Bradley?”

“I’m fine.”

“Bradley, I know you listen to every flight she takes. It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I said I’m fine, sir.” Rooster snapped.

Maverick sighed. Even after the raw day they had, he still wouldn’t let him in. Fine. He’d leave him alone and go find Taylor instead. “If you say so.”

Rooster heard his footsteps retreat back towards the door, and suddenly he saw red. “Why did you pull my papers and not hers?” Maverick stopped in his tracks as Rooster stomped up to him. “She’s your daughter, you’re supposed to protect her, not me.” 

“You weren’t ready.” Maverick resigned to the low blow after a moment of pause. This had been the first time Rooster had brought up the mistake of his lifetime in years. The first time it ever reared its ugly head since Bradley and Taylor had started dating three years ago. 

“And she was? You saw her today. She almost died.” Maverick rolled his eyes at the audacity of this kid, blaming Taylor for passing out like there was any way G-Loc would be merciful to its potential victims. “She’s reckless, just like you.” Rooster continued, without letting his instructor get a word in. 

Maverick gritted his teeth. “As are the rest of you pilots up there. Why is it her that’s the problem?”

“Because the Mitchell family has a tendency of killing people when they lose control in the air. It’s dangerous to be around.”

Maverick was up in his face quickly, angry at the younger pilot immediately. “Says the guy who breaks her heart over and over. You think she’s dangerous? Try loving you. You say you love her yet continue to leave her behind, keep her at a distance, dance around her heart like it’s a game. Our issues are ours to deal with, but you don’t get to drag my daughter through the mud because of that. That’s torture, Bradley, not love. God, if your father heard you say that, he would’ve-”

“But he’s not here, and who’s fault is that, Mitchell?” Bradley seethed. 

A small sound caught Pete’s ears and his eyes snapped to it. Bradley followed his line of sight, immediately deflating to guilt. Taylor was standing there, arms folded in on themselves, hiding perfectly in the shadow of the night near the open door of the room in her dark Navy sweatshirt.  

“Taylor?” Oh god, how long had she been standing there? “Sweetheart, you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

She shuffled her feet. “No, I think I needed to.” There was an awkward tension in the air between the three pilots before she spoke up again. “Dad, you should call Aunt Sarah.”

Maverick paled. The dim light caught across her face and he finally saw the red in her eyes and puffy cheeks from tears that long precluded this fight.

No.

“Ice?” His voice cracked. She nodded slowly as more tears fell down her face. He began to move her way. “Taylor, I wanted to-”

She threw her hand up to stop him. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear excuses, from either of you.” And then she spun on her heel leaving the two men alone again, both with awkward, apologetic faces.

It didn’t last long as Bradley gave his instructor one last glare before chasing after his girlfriend.

“Taylor!” He called after her, impressed by how fast she was moving. But his long legs meant he caught up quickly. “Taylor, what happened? Are you okay? Astro!”

“How dare you!” She screamed, turning and shoving him away from her. He stepped back, shocked at the anger in her tone. “How dare you! He’s been making up his entire life to you for what happened to Goose, and you continue to pull this shit? You drag him into the ground and blame him for everything? Even for a mistake I made? You cannot keep blaming him for what happened.”

“This has nothing to do with my father.” 

She rushed him, jabbing a harsh finger into his chest. “This has everything to do with him, Bradley. You’re just too fucking arrogant to give a shit.” She seethed. Thank god it was late and most of their friends were at The Hard Deck and weren’t here to see this explosion. “Goose’s death is his worst nightmare come true. He’s been flying to fix his mistake ever since, and now he’s training his kids to do the same thing that killed his best friend. Why do you think he pulled your papers? Ice wouldn’t let him pull mine, not after what happened with you. All he’s ever wanted to do was to keep us from the same fate as Goose.”

Bradley felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want his father’s death to be part of the reason why Maverick pulled his papers. No matter how much he convinced him that wasn’t why, it continued to be. But why pull hers? She was sixteen when his got pulled, and she had a front row seat to the disaster that was the fallout with Maverick. He had taken it out on her the most. Hell, he still was taking it out on her. For the life she’d almost had to live herself. Jesus, Maverick tried to pull her papers. Her own father.

“Now you listen here, you piece of shit.” She grabbed his collar and yanked him down to her level. Her blue eyes were bloodshot from all of the tears, but they were even redder with rage. “I will never, ever stop being so stupidly in love with you. But if you ever disrespect my family name again, so help me god.” 

He didn’t have time to process the fight - was it a fight, he had barely spoken? - before she stomped away for the evening.

---

Tag List: @alanadetigy @yanak324 @luckyladycreator2

[ginger-grimm]

HAPPINESS EXCHANGE

Clara Thomas & Natasha "Phoenix" Trace for @veetlegeuse

I hope you like it!

[bobfloydsbabe]

INTRODUCING ❋ Lt. Abigail Kyomi Lennox ↳ top gun: maverick (bob x oc)

Lt. Abby Lennox has worked hard to get where she is, though her plans never involved the Navy. The promise of job security led her to enlist, but not keen to serve in any combat capacity, she trains to become an administrator. While initially stationed at Lemoore, she's eventually headhunted by RADM Solomon 'Warlock' Bates to work for him at Miramar, becoming his trusted confidant and right-hand woman.

Abby is the first person TOPGUN recruits meet when they join the program, and she's there to help with anything they need or answer any questions they may have. With a dangerous and almost impossible mission on the books, old graduates are returning to base, including a familiar face. Robert 'Bob' Floyd made an impression, and Abby hasn't gotten him out of her head since he graduated.

Tensions are running high, and if Abby and Bob stand any chance of making it, someone has to make the first move.

template by @sistaround

all or nothing taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @jvstjewels, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @waterloou, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns

top gun oc taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @anna-phora, @itsjustgracy, @roosterbradshaws

[topgun-imagines]

No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.

Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.

However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.

It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.

The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.

He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.

“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.

“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.

Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.

Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.

“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.

You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.

Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.

Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.

It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.

There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @lovelywiseprincess @sunsetsimpsblog @fandom-life-12 @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @rey26 @lt-spork @callsign-ember @tim-thefrog @zombi3wh0r3 @cheyrenee @nyctophilic0vitnir @labellapeaky @skylineskyler @irosemh

Join my taglist!

[simpforrooster]

i gotta take you home.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F!Reader

request for @cevansbaby-dove Sorry it took me so long! I hope you like it!

"God she's so annoying," Hangman whines to anyone who will listen. You're across the bar, dancing with Rooster.

Which bothers Hangman more than it should.

Coyote chuckles to his left. "Yeah, okay." He brings his beer to his mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hangman asks.

Coyote's shoulder touches his ear in a shrug. "Oh nothing."

Hangman watches you spin yourself in Rooster's arms, a carefree laugh falling from your mouth. Rooster grins down at you, one hand around your waist, the other cradling his beer.

The way your body is pressed against Rooster has Hangman planning out ways he can covertly shoot Rooster down from the sky.

Which is a new development.

It is no secret you and Hangman don't get along. From the moment he laid eyes on your h/c hair, and took in your e/c irises, you annoyed him.

There was no way someone could be so beloved by doing...well...nothing. But alas, that was the case with everyone you met.

Besides Hangman.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't due to the way he couldn't charm you like other girls. You managed to see right through all his shameless flirting.

And yeah, it hurt his ego a little.

Or a lot.

You turn around in Rooster's arms, planting your back against his chest. Rooster leans forward, placing his chin on your shoulder. Hangman catches his eyes, and Rooster's left eye closing in a shit-eating wink.

Coyote chokes on his beer at the interaction. "You gonna let him get away with that?"

Hangman rolls his eyes.

"Get your head out of your ass, man. We all know you're obsessed with her."

"No way." Hangman shakes his head. "I can't stand her." Even as the words come out his mouth, he knows it's a lie.

__

The song ends, and you separate from Rooster.

"Is he looking?" you ask your friend.

Rooster chuckles. "He hasn't take his eyes off you since you walked through the door, babe."

You glance over your shoulder at the blonde aviator. The object of all your fantasies. The guy who manages to push your buttons. Who drives you insane. Who makes you so mad with the simplest comment.

Despite it all, you're in love with him.

Too bad he doesn't return your affections.

The two of you make eye contact. He glances between you and Rooster. A blonde eyebrow raises, a silent question.

What's going on with you and Rooster?

You shrug your shoulder at him, hoping that's all it takes to get him to saunter across the bar to you, ready to push your buttons.

Another song starts, and since Jake has made no move to stop leaning against the bar, you reach around Rooster and take a shot from the table. Throwing it back, your arms wrap themselves around Rooster's neck.

Rooster looks down at you in warning. He knows how you get when you're in the middle of one of these....things....with Jake.

"It's fiiiiine, Roos," you tell him, holding out the syllables in your words too much. "Just keep dancing with me."

You pull your friend closer to you, and Rooster relaxes in your arms. "Whatever you say, y/n/n."

The two of you dance, lost in one another. You and Rooster went on one date. One date is all it took for both of you to see one another only as friends.

Since then, Rooster has played your wingman in trying to get Jake to make a move. It usually doesn't end in Jake's arm, but rather in an argument with him.

"Mind if I cut in?" you hear a voice behind you. The southern accent you've been dying to hear all night. Rooster backs off without another thought, spinning you into Jake's arms.

The blonde aviator smirks down at you, tightening his arms so your flush against him. He leans down to your ear. "Were you trying to make me jealous, darlin'?"

The intimate gesture sends goosebumps down your arms. The smirk on Jake's face deepens, letting you know he definitely noticed.

"Never," you grin.

"Nah," he agrees, the word hitting against your cheek. He pulls you closer to him. "Too bad it worked."

The hand around your waist cements there, his other own coming to the nape of your neck, making sure to get twisted in your hair. Jake uses that hand to crane your face up at him, those green eyes of his sparkling with mischief.

"You don't even like me," you murmur.

"Come on, now, you don't really believe that, do you?" Jake whispers back.

"Of course I do, Jake, you've never given me a reason not to," you admit, his eyes putting your under a spell.

"Hmm," he hums. "I love it when you use my first name."

One hand grabs the collar of his shirt, the other finds home around his neck. You're wracking your brain, trying to think of a way to get him to make that sound again.

The hand around his neck comes around to his jaw, and he lets his head relax. You play with the hair around his ear.

"This is the most you've ever touched me," he says. You let your hand explore down his neck, then his arm, finally resting around his waist.

"Tell me somethin', Jake," you say. "Do you really dislike me?"

The hand in your hair tangles itself tighter. "Would I be holding you like this if I did?"

Your finger slips through one of the belt loops on his jeans. He cradles your head as if he would rather die than let you go. His eyes glace toward your mouth.

"Are you gonna kiss me, Hangman?" you ask him, your eyes dropping this his lips. You pray the answer is yes. You can't hear the music in the bar anymore.

To be honest, you're not even sure you're still in the bar.

"Oh I want to," he murmurs against your temple. "But not in the middle of this bar."

__

Jake pushes you against the outside of the Hard Deck. He looks down at you, his chest heaving with want. Hooking a finger under your chin, he tilts your face up.

"I have wanted to do this since the moment I laid eyes on you," he admits.

"Why didn't you?" you ask.

"You bruised my ego, if I'm being honest."

"I thought I was playing hard to get."

Jake chuckles. "You played that pretty well, darling."

Tightening your arms around his neck, you tell him, "Enough talking, Hangman. Show me what I've been missing."

Jake grins. "Yes, ma'am." His hands come up beneath your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Jake doesn't waste any time cementing his lips against yours. You follow his lead, letting him deepen the kiss. He moans against your mouth as your fingers slide into his hair.

Oh. So that's how you get that sound out of him.

You are putty in this man's hands, and it is as wonderful as you've imagined.

Jake runs kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. You lean your head back, trying to give him as much access to those sweet spots as you can.

"Darlin'," he hums against your skin. "I gotta take you home."

"Okay," you say lamely, comepletly intoxicated with the way he's making you feel.

"Okay." Jake's arms fall from around your thighs, setting you back down. His calloused hand reaches for yours, pulling you to him for one more kiss.