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#Top gun maverick fanfic
roosterforme · 2 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 29 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Your hormones are raging to the point of distraction, but Bradley channels that energy toward a purpose: christening the new Bronco. When the two of you attend Mickey's birthday kegger, Bradley realizes everything would be easier if his friends knew you were pregnant. Hopefully the first visit with your new doctor will set your minds at ease instead of making you more anxious.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy, angst, fluff
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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You woke up to your alarm for work on Friday morning, groggy and nauseous with a growling stomach. "Roo?" you asked, popping up in bed when you realized he wasn't there. The house was silent. His spot in the bed was cold. You groaned and rolled over to grab your glasses. You needed to eat something immediately or the vomiting was going to start.
Still wearing your underwear and shirt from last night, you shuffled to the kitchen and downed a full glass of water and the plate of peanut butter crackers Bradley left out for you. "Roo?" you asked between bites. You opened the sliding glass door, but he wasn't in the backyard. When you turned toward the front door to see if the Bronco was here, something caught your eye through the front window. "What the hell?"
You grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around yourself as you shoved the last cracker into your mouth. When you opened the front door, you saw your husband and your dog in the driveway. Bradley had moved the Bronco to the street, and he was wearing gym clothes and hosing down the cement slab. 
"What is going on?" you called out, squinting against the early morning sunlight as he waved to you. "What are you doing?"
Bradley was smiling brightly as he dropped the hose next to the industrial sized broom and started running toward you. "You have to hear it, Sweetheart." He was fumbling with his phone. "The most beautiful words." He thrust the phone in front of you as a voicemail message started to play.
"Hi, Bradley, this is Terry from the Ford dealership. I'm just calling to let you know your new Bronco is here."
You groaned as he bounced on the balls of his feet, and Tramp wandered past your legs and back inside. "I still don't understand why you have the hose and broom out...? Are you cleaning the driveway? For the new Bronco?"
"Yes," he replied as if he was talking to a very small child. "I wouldn't want to bring it home to a mess. I want it to feel welcome."
You closed your eyes as he put his phone away and let his palm come to rest against your belly. "It's barely even light out, and you're cleaning the driveway for our new car to feel welcome."
"It's not just a car, Baby Girl. It's a Bronco. And I was too excited to sleep."
You opened your eyes and kissed him before you shook your head. "I can't imagine how you'll be when we start shopping for baby stuff."
His brown eyes lit up as he rubbed your belly. "As soon as you give me the green light, I'm ready to go. I can't wait to decorate the nursery. And I really think we should talk about getting a contractor to work on the attic."
You held up one of your hands, trying to keep the blanket wrapped around you. "Can we just do one thing at a time, Roo? When are we picking up the Bronco?"
He kissed your cheek and moaned. "I knew you were as excited as I am. We can go right from work later today."
"Okay," you agreed with a shrug before shuffling back inside and leaving him to finish cleaning the driveway.
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It was Friday, Bradley's wife was pregnant, he was about to pick up his new Bronco, and everything was perfect. A little too perfect. He tapped on your office door as soon as he got out of his afternoon lecture, and when you opened it, you looked upset.
"What's wrong?" he asked, ducking inisde with you and closing the door. He cupped your face in his hands and stroked your cheek. "What is it, Sweetheart?"
You let out a needy moan and then licked your lips. "I am so fucking horny."
Well. At least that was better than there being something wrong that he couldn't take care of. You turned your head slightly and took his thumb between your lips, and Bradley grunted. "Holy shit. You're not kidding." He was met with another soft moan and your fingers on the fly of his khakis while you sucked. He had to grab you to make you stop before you had your hand down his pants. "Okay," he whispered. "Here's what we're about to do, alright?"
You nodded, looking up at him like you trusted him completely as he removed his thumb. "Tell me."
"If you're ready to leave, we'll stop and pick up Bronco number two and drive them both home, and then I'll do whatever you need, okay?"
You sucked in a deep breath, and your voice shook. "Okay."
Bradley carried your work bag for you, and when it was just the two of you in the elevator, he wasn't sure how you managed to make it through the day. You were a mess. You had him pinned to the wall, one hand at the back of his neck, the other resting on his abs, and you were kissing him like you would at home in bed. 
He wanted this. Badly. Your tongue stroked against his as you traced his scars with your fingertips. Every little gasp and sound you made went right for his cock. "I need it so bad," you whispered, pressing your lips to his mustache. "God, Roo."
"Fuck," he groaned as the elevator started to slow. "I'd take you right here if I could."
You were whimpering as the doors slid open revealing Maverick. Bradley desperately tried to move your hands to more suitable places on his body, but you just pressed your cheek to his chest and smiled as you said, "Hey, Captain Mitchell."
He smirked and replied, "Lieutenant Commanders."
"Sir?" Bradley croaked, taking both of your hands in his and pulling you out of the elevator. 
Maverick shook his head, and Bradley expected that he would get a text this weekend, but he'd deal with that later. Hand in hand, you and he ran toward the Bronco, and he quickly got you inside and buckled your seatbelt. But you lured him in for more kisses with your fingers in his hair. 
"You taste so good," you whined, licking his lips and tongue. 
"Shit." He was hard now, and he was going to have to try to get you to behave on the short drive to the dealership. Bradley wrenched himself away from you and tucked your hands to your sides. "I love this, I really do, but you need to try to behave for like thirty more minutes."
He ran around to his door, wrenched it open, and soon he was pulling out of the parking garage. You had your head tipped back and your eyes closed as you whispered, "I can't explain it, Bradley, but all I can think about right now is your cock. Just huge and delicious. Fucking me and making me scream."
"Jesus, Baby Girl," he gasped, nearly driving off the road. 
You turned toward him, eyes wide now. "And I swear to god, you have never looked hotter than you do right now. I want to put my mouth on you."
This was doing nothing for his raging erection as he adjusted himself at a red light. When he saw your hands coming his way, he grabbed them and said, "Absolutely not. Sit on them." You whimpered, but you did as you were told and tucked your hands beneath your thighs. "Now listen closely, Sweetheart." The light turned green and he gunned the accelerator. "I love this enthusiasm. So I'll tell you what we're gonna do. When we get home, we're breaking in the new Bronco."
"Yes," you gasped, biting your lip and nodding. "Fuck me in it."
"I sure will," he rasped, unsure how he was going to manage your hormones for the next eight months. He really hoped this elevated sex drive meant everything was healthy for you and the baby. 
As he pulled into the Ford dealership, the bright cherry red Bronco was parked at the front of the building, and he sighed when he saw it. "There she is. Isn't she gorgeous?"
You unbuckled as soon as he parked. "It'll look even better when I've got my pants pulled down inside of it."
"Damn straight," he growled, climbing out his door and adjusting his pants the best he could. You came running to his side, and the two of you walked into the building, trying your very best to act normal. Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as you took some deep breaths. "You're doing great, Sweetheart," he muttered as he flagged down Terry who left him the voicemail message.
"You're back for the red Bronco!" he said as he headed over. "Why don't you step into my office so we can sign the final paperwork and get the keys."
Bradley felt you link your fingers with his, and the two of you sat side by side while Terry printed out some pages and rambled on about the extended warranty. You kept glancing at Bradley out of the corner of your eye and squirming in your seat. And if you thought he looked hotter now than he ever had before, then the feeling was completely mutual. You looked so damn good, even struggling through your morning sickness, that he wanted to get his hands all over your body. 
When your teeth sank down into your lip as you looked at him, he thought about sweeping everything off Terry's desk, telling him to get the fuck out of his own office, and nailing you right here. God, you'd make the prettiest sounds, too.
"How does that sound?" Terry asked, looking from you and then back to Bradley.
"I'm sorry, what?" Bradley replied, trying his best to get his libido under control. "I missed what you said."
Terry smiled serenely like he didn't know he was practically in the middle of a porno right now. "Would you like me to show you all the controls and interior features? Go over how everything works before you drive off with it?"
"Nope. I think we'll be fine figuring it out on our own," he replied immediately as he grabbed the proffered pen from the other man. He scribbled his signature on the bottom of the paperwork and then passed it to you to do the same. "You ready to get busy, Baby Girl?" he asked as he stood. 
"God yes," you moaned as he took the two sets of keys from a rather stunned looking Terry. "Let's go."
The two of you ran back out to the Broncos, and Bradley groaned. "Oh, hell yes. A hot wife, a baby and two Broncos. Someone pinch me."
"Just get in," you commanded, shoving him toward the red one. "You can deal with not knowing the controls, and I'll meet you at home." 
Bradley let you take the keys out of his pocket before he climbed inside the new one. He took a second to inhale that fresh, new car scent. He ran his fingers over the leather steering wheel. Then he kissed the keys and cranked the engine, barely taking the time to adjust the mirrors before pulling out onto the main road behind you. 
It took eight and a half minutes to get home, and the sun was dipping lower in the sky, but it was by no means dark outside when Bradley pulled in the driveway next to you. Your movements were sure and intentional as you unbuckled your khaki belt while you walked around the blue Bronco and went straight for the back door of the red one. 
"Are you coming?" you asked with desperation as you climbed in the back and looked at him still sitting in the driver's seat. You were on your knees on the seat, pulling your uniform pants and cute underwear down your thighs. "Please?"
"Holy fucking shit." On all fours. On the backseat. Back door open. You were just asking for the fuck of a lifetime, and he was going to give it to you.
"Bradley?"
He killed the engine and left the keys on the dash as he climbed into the backseat behind you. It was roomier than your shitty Honda, but he still had to work with what he had. "I got you, Sweetheart," he promised as you folded your arms and let your head rest on the seat with your gorgeous ass up in the air. He tasted you there, running his lips and mustache down through your soaking wet pussy while he undid his own belt.
You sighed in relief as you pressed slowly back for more pressure, and as soon as he had his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, Bradley took your hips in his hands. You tasted and smelled delicious and familiar as he licked and kissed you everywhere as his hands slowly crept around to your belly. His fingers stroked you softly where he knew your tattoo was, and he licked you from hole to hole. 
"You're really worked up," he murmured as he kissed along your ass cheek and swiped his fingers through your pussy.
"I told you, Daddy!" you moaned, and he coated his cock up with your wetness and his precum. Then he got himself in position behind you, glancing around to see if any of the neighbors were out and about. But it didn't matter. You were already too far gone. He reached behind himself and closed the door a few more inches before it hit his boot, and then he covered your body with his own.
As he slid his cock slowly inside your pussy, he could already feel you clenching around him. When he bottomed out, you were whimpering pathetically. "Roo."
"Shh. I know, Baby Girl. I'll take care of it."
You nodded beneath him, glancing back as he kissed your perfect cheek. "I love you."
Bradley's heart melted even as he started to slowly thrust. He kissed your shoulder through your uniform shirt and wrapped one big hand around your belly. "I love both of you," he promised. Then he patted the seat right next to your folded arms. "In a few more months, there's gonna be a car seat right here. And I can't fucking wait. I can't wait to meet our baby."
"Daddy," you whined, and he planted his palm on the upholstery and held your body as he started to fuck you harder. He knew you wouldn't feel better until you could barely walk, and right now that's what he wanted, too. He thrusted harder as the sounds got more obscene, knowing anyone could see what was happening right now if they looked this way. You turned back with an absolutely delighted expression on your face and whispered, "Watch where you're bracing your foot."
Then he really let you have it, spanking your pussy lightly with his damp fingers and making you squeal while you clenched around him. He turned your head with his other hand so that your mouth was pressed to your forearm, hoping to muffle some of the noise before returning his palm to the upholstery. Oh, you were close now, and so was he, but he'd spend all night out here fucking you with this steady rhythm until you got what you needed from him. Because you always gave him everything.
As he stroked your clit with his middle finger, you whined his name, and your legs started to shake. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on," he coaxed, pushing himself deep and staying still while you squeezed his length and shook beneath him.
A pitiful cry of Daddy was all he heard as you started milking him for everything he was worth. He rolled his hips until he was done, and then he gently wrapped his hand around your neck and guided you so your back was against his chest. He kissed your ear, letting you hear how he was panting to catch his breath while he said, "Baby number two gets made in a Bronco."
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Well. The red Bronco now smelled like new car and filthy sex at the same time. And you had Bradley's cum all over your uniform pants. And your nipples hurt from rubbing against the backseat. But you felt incredible as Bradley closed up the doors, locked it and patted the hood before leading you to the house with his arm around your waist.
"All better?" he asked, slipping the key into the lock as you rubbed your face against his bicep. 
"So much better," you replied as Tramp greeted both of you. "In fact, I think I'm going to go relax in the bathtub."
When you tried to walk away from him, Bradley grabbed your hand. "Whoa. Not so fast." He yanked you gently back into his arms. "First of all, now that the new Bronco has been appropriately christened, you get to take a set of the keys." He dropped them into your hand as he kissed your forehead. "And second, I read about taking baths during pregnancy, and you can't have the water as hot as you're used to."
You gaped up at him. "You read about it?"
He nodded as his cheeks started to turn pink. "Yeah. Just online. You know, just because you like taking baths. And sometimes we take them together.  And I know I told you I wasn't going to start shopping too much yet, but I did order a tub thermometer on Monday. And it arrived yesterday. And I hope you don't think I'm crazy right now."
You squeezed him tighter as you whispered, "I don't think you're crazy. I think you're sweet and smart. You always seem to think of things that I don't. And on that note, would you like to get the thermometer and meet me in the bathroom? Naked?"
He patted you on the butt and whispered, "I'll feed Tramp and meet you in there."
You stripped out of your uniform and turned on the water, but you didn't crank it as hot as you normally would. You dipped your toes in and swirled them around as you thought back to last weekend when you sat in the empty tub and counted for three minutes until your pregnancy test was ready. It was fascinating to you, growing something inside you that made you so reactive to everything. Every time you thought about your upcoming appointment, you got antsy, hoping they would tell you everything looked as it should. 
Bradley kissed your shoulder as his body met yours. "I brought the goods," he whispered as he dropped the floating thermometer into the tub and held up a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of cold water.
You moaned and reached for the food, knowing you should eat something now while you still felt okay. "You're the best husband in the world."
As you shoved some crackers into your mouth, Bradley knelt and kissed your belly. "Hi," he whispered, making a huge smile break out on your face. "It's me again. Just checking in." He kissed your belly button and looked up at you as he said, "Mommy and I are hoping to see you next week with an ultrasound." He paused and pressed one more lazy kiss a little closer to your tattoo as he stared. "Your tits look fucking incredible, Sweetheart."
"Do they?" you asked, looking down at yourself. "They're so sore." 
Bradley grunted and shut off the water after he checked the thermometer. "So what you're saying is I can look, but I can't touch? Because that's just mean." He climbed into the tub and helped you in while you laughed. 
"It didn't hurt too much the other day when you were very, very gentle," you whispered as you straddled his lap facing him. These slightly cooler baths would take some getting used to, but it wasn't too terrible. 
"Got it." You ate a few more crackers as he intently focused on your half submerged breasts like they were about to cure cancer. His thumbs were soft and when his lips met your nipples, you arched your back until you were getting just the perfect amount of pressure. 
You let him kiss and nuzzle around for a few minutes while you played with his hair. When his mustache started to feel a little too rough, you yanked him back, and he stopped. "You're bristly."
He raised one eyebrow. "Do you want me to shave?"
"No!" you gasped running your fingers down his cheek to stroke his facial hair.
"I will if you want me to," he whispered, kissing your palm and pulling you a little closer. You curled up against his chest and hugged him.
"I don't want you to shave, Roo. You're so handsome this way." You kissed his sparse chest hair. "Thanks for getting the bath thermometer and making sure I got a new car. And thanks for fucking me all the time and taking care of everything."
He chuckled. "How can you go from feral and horny to sweet and snuggly so quickly?"
"It's the hormones," you replied with a yawn. "And as soon as I get out of the tub, I'm probably going to fall asleep. So if there's anything else we need to talk about, we have to do it now."
"Just Mickey's birthday party tomorrow," Bradley reminded you, and you groaned. 
"I forgot all about that. I'll have to bring crackers and hope I don't hurl everywhere. And how the hell am I supposed to avoid drinking at a kegger?"
"I have a few ideas."
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Bradley's ideas were decidedly not the best, but you didn't come up with anything better, so you just went along with him. It was blazing hot out the following afternoon at the beach, and you felt a little bloated in your bathing suit, but your husband literally couldn't keep his hands off you.
"Roo!" you scolded when he came running over to you mid football game while you lounged on your back on a towel next to Phoenix. He dripped water all over your legs before dropping into a pushup position above you and kissing your lips until you giggled. 
"I can't help it," he panted. "I'm obsessed with this bathing suit. You wore it to the cliffs beach the first time you kissed me."
"Gross," Phoenix moaned as Bradley dipped his tongue into your mouth before standing again. 
Then he flopped down on her towel and kissed her cheek as he said, "All thanks to my very best friend."
"Go away!" she screeched, pushing on him until he got up and ran back to the rest of the guys who were all tipsy and trying to tackle Mickey. "He's horrible. I can't believe you married him," she said as she rolled onto her stomach. You wanted to be able to do that, but you were feeling pretty nauseous.  
"We all make mistakes," you replied, trying to discreetly eat another cracker. "Bradley's is the fact that he didn't reapply sunblock yet. I should probably call him back over."
"Please don't," Phoenix moaned. You sat up on your towel and tried to stretch, and then you saw Bob making his way down the beach. But he wasn't alone. 
"Maria!" you called out, waving your friend and Bob's new roommate your way.
Phoenix raised her arm in greeting, and you didn't miss the way Bob smiled down at Maria as she turned toward the towels as Bob headed for the water, catching a pass from Javy on his way.
"Hey," Maria greeted, dropping her bag down next to yours.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" you asked, patting your towel next to you.
She dropped down as she said, "I didn't really know I was. I got home from taekwondo right when Bob was getting ready to come here, and he invited me. Then he waited while I got changed."
You could tell she was looking at him through her dark sunglasses. Interesting. 
"Is he driving you crazy with his dice collection yet?" Phoenix asked her, and Maria started laughing.
"No, but it was so cute when he unpacked them. He has them all sorted by color, and he told me about his Dungeons & Dragons character while we drank a bottle of wine." Suddenly she stopped talking and cleared her throat. "So, how are you two?"
You gave her side eye as your stomach started to gurgle. You were really afraid you weren't going to make it through the day without being sick. You watched Jake pumping the keg of beer and squirting it directly from the nozzle into his mouth, and you prayed they finished the whole thing before anyone tried to offer you another cup. "I'm fine," you said absently. "I'll be back. Let me make sure Bradley puts on more sunblock."
You grabbed the tube from your bag and headed toward the water as Maria and Nat started to discuss workplace politics. "Bradley!" you called when you got a little closer, but he couldn't hear you over the sound of the waves and the guys all yelling. "Roo!" You waved your hand in the air, and Reuben turned toward you right as he was looking for a receiver to catch his throw. The football spun in slow motion, powerfully thrown, and you gasped as it was headed right for you. It was going to hit you in the stomach.
At the last second, you dropped the sunblock and turned, squeezing your eyes closed and holding out your hand. The ball hit you hard in the hip, and you gasped in pain.
"What the fuck, Payback!" Bradley thundered as he ran toward you, kicking up wet sand as your eyes welled up with tears behind your sunglasses. "Sweetheart! Are you okay?" His big hands were all over you, as you tried to nod. When his fingers grazed your belly, he pulled you close. "Where did you get hit?" he asked, wrapping his other arm around you. 
"My hip," you managed, and his hand dropped lower as he pulled you to his chest. "I'm okay. I just wanted you to put more sunblock on."
Now Reuben came rushing over. "I'm so sorry!" he said, reaching out a hand and placing it on your shoulder. 
You could feel Bradley tense up, and you had to whisper, "I'm okay. It didn't hit my belly. I swear, Roo."
Then he snapped at his friend. "Can you fucking pay attention next time?" 
"I'm sorry," Reuben repeated, and you left Bradley's arms to give him a squeeze instead. 
"I'm fine," you promised him. "Bradley's just protective, and it did hurt a bit."
"I will be extra careful," he promised.
"And I won't wander into the game unless I'm completely ready to play."
"It wasn't your fault," Bradley growled, and now you had to put your hands on his arms. 
"I'm fine," you reiterated. "Just put on more sunblock, okay? I don't want you to be in pain and bright red tonight when I will probably need you for special activities."
That got him to quirk one eyebrow up as you kissed him. "Okay." He bent and picked up the tube and tucked it into the pocket of his cutoffs, and as soon as you wandered away, the football game picked up again.
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By the time Javy and Jake started the bonfire, Bradley was feeling pretty drunk. Reuben was still keeping a safe distance from him, which was making Bradley feel a little bit bad. It wasn't like he hit you on purpose, but the idea of the football hitting you that hard even close to your belly scared him. A lot. But you were claiming you were just fine, and he believed what you said. You even showed him the exact spot where you said you would be sore and bruised by tomorrow, and it seemed like it was a little closer to your butt than anywhere else. 
Right now, you were laughing with Nat and Maria, and you had a red solo cup of beer on your hand that you weren't drinking. Every time you looked at him a certain way, he pretended to fill his cup all the way and switched with you. It was working out well enough, except that he was getting drunk twice as fast this way.
"Come on," Nat was saying as she pulled on your arm. "Do a keg stand! I'll do one if you do one!"
You gave him the look and he sighed. He hadn't done a fucking keg stand since he was at UVA, and frankly he was too old for this shit, but he knew what he needed to do. "Nat, I can drink you under the fucking table any day of the week."
She turned to him, eyes flashing. "Prove it."
Next thing he knew, he was doing a handstand on top of the keg, one leg held up by Bob and the other by Javy, and Jake was squirting a steady stream of whatever shitty beer this was into his mouth while he tried to swallow it before it dripped down to his nose. Everyone started counting, and he made it thirty seconds before he started shaking his head. Once his feet were back on the sand, he realized his vision was a little blurry. 
When you wrapped your arms around his waist, he hissed. Shit. He never did reapply the sunblock like you told him to. Oh no. Now Mickey wanted him to do another keg stand. 
"Okay, birthday boy," Bradley replied, and you released him so he could have another go. This time, he couldn't remember how long he lasted, but everyone was slapping his sunburned back and jostling him around a lot. And he was drunk. Like really fucking drunk.
"How did he get like this, Angel?" Jake asked as he slung his arm around you. 
Bradley scoffed. "Hey, that's my wife," he slurred as he reached for your hand.
"Yeah, I'm well aware," Jake replied, and then Bradley started laughing when he remembered that you and Jake were friends, and he decided to lay down on your beach towel for a little bit. 
He couldn't be sure how long he was there, but the air was cooling down as the night wore on, and he felt kisses on his forehead. "Baby Girl."
"Yeah, I'm right here, Daddy," you whispered, taking his hands in yours. "Thanks for drinking enough to kill a horse."
He started laughing hysterically as he got to his feet. "You're fucking funny."
"I know, Roo," you said as you tugged him along the beach. "That's why you married me."
"No, it's not," he swore. "No. No. Not just that. I married you, because I had to."
You laughed as the new Bronco came into view, and Bradley wondered where everyone else was. "You had to marry me?"
"Oh yeah," he replied. "I knew it right away. Couldn't live without you. You're too sweet. And your ass is too fucking fine."
He let you push him into the passenger side door, and he kissed your forehead as you buckled him in. "Oh, Bradley," you giggled. "You're a mess." You were cupping his face gently, and you were going in and out of focus a bit, but he knew he didn't have to worry too much about anything while you were here.
"I love you," he whispered, and you pressed the softest kiss to his lips. "I love you and the baby."
As you brushed your fingers back through his hair, you told him, "Please don't barf in my Bronco, Sweetheart."
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Bradley couldn't even move until Sunday afternoon. You tried your best not to laugh too much, but the combination of his hangover and the sunburn were perhaps the funniest thing you'd ever seen. He was walking around the house completely naked and holding his head. When you tried to facetime your parents, you had to send him back to the bedroom, and you could hear him moaning the whole time. 
"Do you want more aloe?" you asked him as you munched on a peanut butter cracker. "Or something to eat."
"Stop talking about food," he begged from his spot on his stomach on the bathroom floor. "And if you put more aloe on my back, I need you to do it very softly. Like how gentle I was with your tits, okay?" Then he groaned and lifted his head up from the bath mat. "God, I can't even fuck you properly right now."
You squeezed aloe onto your hands and carefully massaged it into his skin. "That's okay. Maybe you can watch me masturbate later?"
"Fuck! That's like a punishment! My hands are fine. I'll finger you. It'll be great." He winced as you rubbed him a little too hard by accident, so you kissed his pink cheek. 
"Just rest up, Daddy. We have a big week. I need to finish my portion of the presentation for Annapolis."
"I can help you practice it," he promised, petting Tramp when he wandered in to get an update on things. "And don't forget about 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon. That's the most important part of the week."
You combed your fingers through his hair, and his eyes closed as your tummy swooped. "First appointment with the obstetrician," you whispered. Excitement filled you up every time you thought about it, but so did a bit of anxiety. You'd been waiting seemingly forever to get to this point, and as you rubbed your sore hip, your mind filled with negative thoughts. What if they couldn't do an ultrasound? What if you didn't get to see the baby? What if there was something wrong?
"Hey." Bradley was sitting up, and his arms were open for you even though he looked a bit like a lobster. You crawled willingly into his overheated embrace, and if you were hurting him, he didn't say a word about it. "Wednesday, Baby Girl. I couldn't be more excited. Just wait, everything will be perfect."
You were surprised to find that the week didn't drag too much. Work was busy, and Bradley's sunburn was starting to peel. When you were on the verge of tears on Tuesday night because your libido was so insane right now, he fucked you hard in the kitchen while he said, "Next time, please force me to reapply the sunblock!"
"I will," you moaned as you came, delighting in the feeling of perfect release. 
And next thing you knew, it was Wednesday, and you were about to meet your new doctor for the first time. And hopefully you were going to see your baby for the first time.
"Are you nervous?" you asked Bradley as he laced his fingers with yours as you sat in the quiet waiting room together. There were expectant mothers at varying stages of pregnancy sitting around you, and you tried to imagine how big you'd be in a few more months. 
"Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."
You nodded. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."
He kissed you hard on the lips. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now," he said with a laugh. "And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."
Tears filled your eyes as you turned to tuck your face against his neck. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and told him how much you loved him back, and then you jolted in your seat as a friendly looking nurse called your name. 
"Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."
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I'm hoping for a family photo in the next part! I also don't know how she's going to survive Annapolis right now. I also can't believe Maria and Bob aren't about to fuck nasty. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 30
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fandomlit · 2 years
Text
sleep clothes (bradley bradshaw x reader)
summary a power outage allows rooster (and unfortunately, the other men on base) to see you in your sleep clothes.
warnings swearing, suggestion toward adult themes, rooster has a staring problem
a/n so guess who went and saw top gun (rqs are open <3)
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gif cred belongs to @bykryx​
the squadron had been getting ready for bed when the lights suddenly went out and the usual background thrum of the bunkhouse went silent. rooster looked to the switch to see no one standing by it just as payback let out a groan.
“the power did not just go out,” he huffed, digging through one of his drawers for his emergency flashlight.
“i think it did,” rooster replied as the other men in the bunkroom began to curse. hangman hopped out of bed, not bothering to pull a shirt on as he headed for the door.
“where are you going?” coyote called to him.
“to see if anyone else’s went out or if rooster just left his curling iron on too long,” hangman replied with a cynical smile. and as much as rooster wanted to put him in his smug jaw, he, payback, and coyote all followed.
the backup generator must have been some piece of work, for it only somewhat worked in the hallway, filling it with eerily faint light. some other men were out of their bunks already, milling about the hall with tired grumbles and groans as they talked amongst themselves. “guess it wasn’t just us,” rooster offered with a tired sigh. 
“guess it got the girls, too,” payback spoke before moving past rooster. “hey phoenix, c/s!” rooster followed after him to see the silhouetted figures of the two girls of their squadron were in fact hovering near the entranceway of their hall. his heart nearly stopped as he got close enough to catch sight of you in the dim lights.
rooster had seen you in many shapes and forms; workout clothes, dresswear, uniform, even swimwear. but never in sleep clothes.
he thanked what ever god for blessing him with that sight.
“enjoying some mood lighting, boys?” you joked with a tired smile, tilting your head in a way that nearly had rooster swooning. man, he knew he had it bad for you, but this was a whole new level. 
you stood in pair of lazily picked out socks and a way too big sleep shirt that left too much and not enough to the imagination, just barely stopping at your mid thigh with no implication of shorts underneath. he prayed the same dim lighting that revealed your adorably tired features to him hid the way his eyes greedily drank in the sight of your beautifully bare legs and the large shirt slipping off of your shoulder in the slightest, exposing your bare collarbone to his prying eyes. he forced his eyes away after a few long moments, cursing just barely under his breath. he couldn’t help the intrusive thought of you wearing his too big shirt, looking up at him with those doey, tired eyes, and, god, he was in public right now.
while you had taken a more lighthearted approach to the situation, phoenix was less than so. “none of you thought to put on shirts? not a single one of you?”
“c’mon, c/s’s not even wearing pants right now!” hangman retorted with a snicker. rooster didn’t know when he had joined their group, but his blood boiled at the thought of hangman’s gaze replacing where his had just been, thinking worse and more perverted thoughts than his own. that stupidly familiar burn in his chest only lessened when he heard you scoff.
“i’m wearing shorts, dipshit,” you huffed and rooster’s eyes followed selfishly as you lifted the hem of your shirt, revealing the pair of spandex that sat even further up on your thighs. he looked away quickly this time, before his mind could get too carried away. “i’m officially the second most clothed person here.” phoenix, who stood in a tee and sweatpants, just shrugged.
“i don’t know about that,” hangman tutted under his breath and rooster had never wanted him to shut up more. luckily, the admiral saved any further debate and intrusive thoughts.
“admiral on deck!”
everyone fell to attention immediately, lining up against the walls. when the hall was completely silent and devoid of shuffling noises, the admiral stepped toward the center. he scanned the hall before commanding, “at ease, but listen up.” everyone relaxed their attention and that’s when rooster realized that you had snuck your way beside him in the brief rush. you caught his eye when he glanced down at you and shot him a jovial, heart-stopping wink before focusing back on the admiral. he couldn’t help but bite his lip to prevent a goofy smile.
“we’ve got mechanics searching for the source of the outage now,” the admiral explained, pacing further down the hall. “lights out will be extended by an hour to accommodate for those whose showers were cut off or cut short. y’all smell terrible. you need that shower.” chuckles arose down the hall. “until we get up and running again, a few reminders: you are still not allowed to mingle in each other’s dorms, you are still required to wake at the same time tomorrow, you are still..”
as the admiral droned on, rooster snuck another glance down at you. you caught his gaze after a moment and the two of you shared an exaggerated look. he leaned closer to you and spoke quietly, “where’d you even get a shirt that big?”
that clearly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say judging by the breathy chuckle you let out. “some laundry mix up a few weeks ago. don’t really know what happened or who did it, but it doesn’t matter. it’s my shirt now. it smells like me and everything.”
rooster let out a quiet chuckle as if the thought of you scenting a shirt didn’t nearly make him shiver. the admiral swept his gaze through the part of the hallway your smiling duo stood and rooster quickly fixed his smile into a hardened expression. when the admiral’s eyes were gone, he whispered to you with a skipping heart, “looks good on you. ‘m sure it smells good, too.”
he looked toward you to see a silent laugh shake through you as you caught his eyes, “thanks.” his gaze flitted away from you after a moment, just as you added, “would rather it be one of your shirts, though.”
his heart stopped. his fervent eyes were back on you within the millisecond. “what?”
“what?” you repeated back to him. but the feeble lighting was just vivid enough that he could see the knowing, provocative look in your eyes as you tilted your head at him and holy shit you were going to be the death of him.
“dismissed,” the admiral called before rooster could even think of a response to you. 
you shot rooster a smile that only told him that you were proud of yourself before speaking sweetly, “goodnight, bradley.”
fuck, did you have to say his name?
his veins were on fire. he let out a chuckle that only told you how flustered you had made the usually-cocky pilot. “goodnight, y/n.” he stared after you for a moment, gaze on the hem of your shirt as it just barely rose to the top of your thighs with your pace. the sight of your spandex settled just under the curve of your ass was like a reward.
and though some of the boys jostled and teased him like teenagers when you disappeared back to the girls rooms, rooster’s only thoughts were how to cause another laundry mix up in his favor.
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tgmsunmontue · 4 months
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When Bradley keeps growing past the 6'5" limit of being a naval aviator Maverick lets out an internal sigh of relief. He's not going to be the one responsible for stopping Bradley from becoming a pilot.
Of course he thinks too soon because Bradley ends up falling in love with sky diving (an 18th birthday gift from Mav), and okay, that's a calculated risk. Mav indulges it. He understands that need to be risky although Mav can never understand why he'd want to jump out of a perfectly functioning plane. The fact Bradley has a bunch of honorary uncles who are all pilots means getting someone to fly him up for jumps is easy. He gets his licence before his 19th birthday.
He goes to college, studies, but he LIVES to jump out of planes. He works as a skydiving instructor and also does tandem dives with people - it pays good money.
He deliberately puts himself into spins and then recovers, over and over again. He makes YouTube instructional videos. He goes into spins when his parachute is deployed and has to do a release and use the reserve chute. He then collapses his chute only to extend it again. He's an adrenaline junky.
Over the next decade or so Bradley becomes an EXPERT in spin-recovery and ends up as a civilian contractor brought into train aviators on how to recover if they, or their parachute goes into a spin after an ejection.
Mav is a nervous wreck and Ice tells him he only has himself to blame.
(And can you imagine Bradley training Jake, Jake flirting (badly), and Bradley isn't impressed. His god father is Pete Maverick Mitchell, he has dinner with him and Admiral Kazansky at least once a week. Then Bradley decides to fuck with him. Tells him sure, he'll go on a date. And gives Jake an address to pick him up from. It's Ice's address... so Bradley pretends that Ice is his dad all the while Jake is pretty sure his life is now over.)
Edited 27th Feb 2024 - this is now a fic titled 'You need to learn how to fall'
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eternalsams · 11 months
Text
The Olive Theory ⇴ J.Seresin
pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader
warning/content: this is a Soulmates!AU, bit of angst but quickly replaced by fluff, they're so in love it makes me sick, young!Hangman (in his early twenties), naval academy inaccuracies
summary: In a world where you learn a detail about your soulmate on each of your birthdays, you think you found your pair years ago but you're completely caught off guard on your 24st birthday.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration.
masterlist
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You were twirling the phone cord around your finger, giggling at something Jake said at the other end. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling but all your attention was to the man speaking to you. Jake had to leave Texas a few months ago for the Navy Academy after you both graduated at the Austin University. "When's the next time you're coming home?" You asked, kicking your legs in the air. Jake smiled, even though you couldn't see him, and he shook his head. "I don't know sweetheart..." Oh, but he knew. "Probably for the holidays." You tried not to sound too disappointed when you responded. "That's great. I can't wait to see you." You let your legs fall back down on the couch and straightened up. "I hope you're having fun." You smiled softly. "I am, it's great. I can't fly a jet yet, but they have us do some pilot shit in a simulator. It's not the same feeling but I love it!" You smile even more at the excitement in his voice, the distance was hard but knowing he was in his element made it worth it.
"What are you planning for tomorrow?" He then asked. Tomorrow you would celebrate your 24th birthday, but you didn't have the mood to celebrate anything without Jake. He hadn't missed a single birthday for 7 years and tomorrow would be the first one you spend apart. "I don't know yet... My mom wants us to go see a movie but I'm not really feeling like it..." You rubbed a hand on your face, trying to contain the tears for spilling. "Y/n..." You heard Jake sigh. "I know, I know. But I just miss you so much..." You murmured. "I miss you too, sweetheart..." He responded and the line was silent for a moment. You thought he had hung up before you heard his voice again. "You're ready to learn something new about me?" He said with a certain tease in his voice. Oh yeah, you almost forgot about that. Tomorrow you would find an envelop in your mailbox, containing a small detail about your soulmates. You knew Jake was yours, every year all the letters you got matched perfectly with him, and his with you.
"I'm pretty sure it's gonna say that you'd wet your bed until you were 8." You laughed heartedly. "Hey! It happened once and it's because I was sick! I knew I shouldn't introduce you to my mom in the first place..." You laughed even more and the melancholy you felt a minute ago disappeared. That was the thing about Jake, he always managed to bring a smile on your face. "Alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna have to go. I gotta get up early tomorrow, I'm gonna see my first jet up close." He said excitedly, making your smile widen. "Okay, cowboy. Have fun tomorrow, I'll text you whatever stupid thing I learn about you." You heard Jake laugh and you exchanged 'I love you's before hanging up. You sighed and rubbed your eyes, wiping away the tears forming in the corners.
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You woke up the next morning with a smile on your face, you threw your legs out of the bed, slipped on your slippers and ran to your mailbox. You grabbed the envelop and ran back inside. You softly chuckled, anticipating whatever you're gonna learn about Jake. You silently wished it would be something embarrassing so you could have a good laugh but when you read the words on the letter, your smile immediately fell. They love olives. No, it couldn't be. Jake didn't like olives, he always gave you his. On pizzas, in salads. You've never seen him eat a single one olive since you've met him. You stayed frozen for what seemed hours before you heard knocks on your door. You knew it was your mom, and seconds after, the front door opened and you could hear your mother's voice. She joined you in the kitchen and stopped in her tracks when she saw you. "What's wrong, baby?" Your gaze stay focused on the wooden table and you gave her the letter. You didn't trust your voice from quivering if you spoke right now. She read the words and dropped the letter on the table before wrapping her arms around your shoulders. "Oh, honey... It's gonna be okay..." Jake wasn't your soulmate. You just couldn't believe it, everything was going perfect with him, even if the distance made it hard, you really thought you found your pair with him. But you were destined to be with someone else, someone who loved olives. And Jake was destined to be with another person.
Jealousy and anger took over your body and you ripped the letter and envelop to pieces. You knew you didn't have to follow what the letters told you, you could stay with Jake and everything would be fine for the both of you. But now that you knew he wasn't your soulmate, you would always think about that other person he would be happier with. You couldn't think about being happier than with Jake but you really didn't want to think about Jake being happier with someone else and leaving you for someone better than you. You then stayed home with your mom, forgetting about the movie and whatever you guys planned for your birthday. From time to time, you'd find yourself crying silently and then quickly wiping the tears to give a reassuring smile to your mom. That until you heard the doorbell ring. You were curled up on your couch, hugging a pillow and wrapped up in a blanket Jake got you last winter. Your mom got up and went to answer the front door, murmuring something before you heard the door close.
"Sweetheart?" Your head immediately raised at the sound of that voice and your eyes widened. "Jake? What are you doing here?" You straightened up and got up from the couch, dropping the pillow and the blanket on the floor. "I'll leave you two alone. Call me if you need anything, okay?" Your mom said before kissing your cheek and then Jake's before leaving the house. "Jake, what are you doing here? I thought you had class..." You asked with glassy eyes, your voice breaking and betraying your mental state. Your boyfriend dropped his duffle bag on the floor and reached for you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. "I wanted to surprise you. What's wrong? Did you learn something so embarrassing you don't wanna be with me anymore?" He tried to joke but the reality caught you and the smile he wanted to see appear on your face never showed up. That's when he knew something was very wrong. "Okay, let's sit down for a bit and you'll tell me everything, okay? Just calm down and breathe deeply." You both sat down on the couch and you curled up against him, listening to his heartbeat and timing your breathing with his. He was rubbing your back the whole time, kissing the top of your head and whispering reassuring words into your ear.
Once you calmed down and pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. "You're not the one I'm supposed to be with..." You murmured and he froze. He looked like a kicked puppy and you hated yourself for being the one responsible for how sad he looked. "What...? No. That's not possible, everything matched." He ran his fingers into his hair as he got up from the couch and paced around the living room. "What did it say? Where's the envelop? I wanna see." He looked back at you with incredulous eyes. "I shred it to pieces... It said..." You calmed your voice and took a deep breath. "It said my soulmate loves olives." You looked down at your hands on your lap and heard Jake chuckle. You frowned and looked up at him with confusion written all over your face. "This is not funny, Jake." You almost felt offended he would laugh about something like this. The soon-to-be-pilot stopped laughing and sat back down next to you, taking your hands in his. "I'm sorry, it's not. It's not funny. It's just that... I am your soulmate." He said with a soft smile. "Jake, no-" But before you could keep talking, he stopped you, placing his fingers on your lips. "No, I am your soulmate, Y/n. I love olives, I do." You frowned and took his hand, pulling it away from your mouth. "What? But..." You really didn't understand what was happening...
"You remember our first date in high school?" Of course you remembered, you skipped your last class of the morning to go get pizza and go to the park next to your high school. You shared one pizza and that's when you learned Jake didn't like olives. Well, apparently he did. You nodded and stayed silent, waiting for his explanation. "When you took that first bite into the pizza, I asked you if you liked olives. But not because I didn't like them, it was because I saw how much you loved them. I wanted to make you happy and I did. You were so excited to get my olives as well as yours. I just never told you so you didn't feel bad for stealing my olives." He explained and you let out a deep sigh. You felt your eyes water and you threw yourself in Jake's arms, embracing him tightly. "So we're still soulmates...?" You asked in the crook of his neck. "As long as you'd let me." He kissed the spot just between your neck and your shoulder before pulling away and looking straight into his eyes. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart..." He gently smiled and you giggled before kissing him deeply.
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bradshawsweetheart · 11 months
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Baby Come Close | college!Bradley Bradshaw x virgin!Reader |
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turn the lights down low, baby come close
put your trust in me, let this love be
SUMMARY: On the last night of spring break of junior year at UVA, you decided that this was the perfect time to lose your virginity to none other than Bradley Bradshaw. WORD COUNT: ~4.9k WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. this is just pure smut. barely a plot. p in v. corruption kink if you squint. praise kink if you squint more. fluff. swears. no use of y/n. A/N: this is my first time writing publicly, especially smut, in a very long time, and my first fic for TGM! I’m so nervous to post this, please be gentle :')
It was the last day of spring break, and the college town of Charlottesville, Virginia was a bit quieter than usual, due to most of its population being who knows where doing who knows what with their time off. Your parents were out of town in Boston, but you much rather would have spent time with Bradley at his apartment than go back to your empty childhood home anyway, exchanging pleasantries with former high school classmates who you would undoubtedly run into in public. You and Bradley, instead, decided that spring break would be much better spent in the privacy of his empty dwelling, partaking in day trips to Virginia Beach in his Bronco and a staycation of movie-watching-turned-heated-groping sessions… And maybe even more if you decided to finally take it there. What better time than tonight, before the first day of the final stretch of junior year at the University of Virginia?
“What did he say?” Bradley whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. Usually, the two of you would try to watch the movie until around the thirty-minute mark, and then one wandering hand or a lingering kiss later and it would be completely ignored. For you, however, tonight’s movie was long forgotten the moment he had turned it on.
“Hm? Oh, I didn’t hear him. Sorry…” You smiled at him sheepishly.
“You good, angel?” He cocked his eyebrow as he turned to face you. The warm amber of his irises bore into your face with adoration and slight concern. “You’re not thinking about breaking up with me, are you?” He feigned worry, clutching over his heart. You swatted his arm playfully with an eye roll.
“I’m just a little thirsty… Do you want anything from the kitchen?” You offered, feeling a little silly as he simultaneously took a swig from his bottle of beer. He pretended to think for a moment.
“Yeah, get me a glass of you.” He grinned, leaning down to catch your lips in his, stifling your giggle as you cringed with an exaggerated scoff at his cheesy remark. Bradley Bradshaw, dad joke supreme.
“On second thought, maybe I’ll decide to break up with you when I get back, Dadshaw.” You teased, pushing his curls from his forehead, earning you a perfect pout from his plump lips to which you gave a lingering kiss. There it was.
If you were being honest with yourself, you were growing restless with the over-the-clothes grope sessions that regularly took place the last few months. While they were exciting and enjoyable, there was a particular itch that you just couldn’t scratch, even on your own. Your thoughts would drift to him at night as you imagined what being with him would be like, and any time your unskilled fingers fumbled to bring an unfamiliar feeling to that place deep inside you, you would immediately withdraw your hand. The longer things continued on like this, the antsier you were getting and if Bradley was feeling the same way, you would have been none the wiser. He was aware of your predicament and he, ever the gentleman, always let you set the pace and never asked anything of you that you were not comfortable with. His mother raised him better than being any other way. “I promise I’m not some bible-thumping prude.” You would promise him from time to time during these exchanges. He never asked you for your reasoning, but he knew it was just a matter of trust. He would just simply smile and assure you there was no rush, that he would never pressure you to go further than you wanted.
In truth, however, the idea of being your first anything excited him. He felt a little guilty for having that thought in the first place but he couldn’t help it. Any time he tried to get any information from you about what you had done before, just out of sheer curiosity, you would quickly skirt around the subject and bring up anything else. He would never press you on the matter, but he could tell when you were hesitant and very intentional with your movements during impromptu make out sessions behind the bookshelves in the library during study breaks. But he also noticed when something changed inside of you: the time he pulled you into the office of the professor he was TA-ing for when they were out for a few days. When he decided to be spontaneous and clear the professor’s desk of clutter to push you onto the surface, you didn’t exasperatedly scold him or get flushed and embarrassed like you normally would. You simply continued on, pulling him into you, your kisses and touches… hungrier, but he continued to let you set the pace, and while it didn’t go much further, he could feel the desperation growing there with you. That was a week ago, right before midterms, and neither of you had talked about it since.
He tilted his head at you as you winked and sauntered away, making your way out of his room and down the hall toward the kitchen. After nervously gulping down half of the water in your glass in an attempt to slow your heart rate, you stepped into the bathroom off the side of the galley. You gripped either side of the sink as you bent over the counter to face yourself in the mirror, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. “You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Everyone has done it… Just not you,” you furrowed your brow at your failed pep talk. You had been in your head about this for a couple months, and especially all week as he made a habit of sweetly coaxing you into staying over every night of spring break with him to cuddle every time you would start gathering your belongings to leave. You worried that you wouldn’t be nearly as good as the other women Bradley had already been with, and you often wondered why he was even waiting around with you in the first place, especially when other girls on campus would throw themselves at him had they been given the chance. You had even brought this up to him a couple times before, how he was wasting formative college experience time with you, which was always met with, “Baby, I don’t want anyone else,” or, “Sex isn’t the only important thing in the world.” Sure, not the only thing, but surely still pretty important to someone like Bradley Bradshaw.
“No, you’re not backing out of it. Get it over with. Everything will only get easier from here on out.” You told your reflection definitively. You reached up under your skirt, hooking your panties with your thumbs before tugging them down your legs. You had hoped this bold of a move would spur you on to go through with this, either by your own actions or even by Bradley discovering you bare, as you knew he would often absentmindedly run his thumb against the underwear lines at your hip when he cuddled you. After giving yourself one last look-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom.
Bradley snapped his head up when you reentered his bedroom, giving you a cheeky grin. “Are you back to break up with me, angel?” He has no idea what he’s in for tonight, you thought, but then quickly humbled yourself by the fact that, well, neither did you.You sauntered over to turn off the television with the remote before tossing it away to his textbook-ridden desk. The sudden silence and the way he was looking at you was making you lose your nerve, so you walked over to his stereo to pop one of his CDs in the player, Smokey Robinson’s Smokey, pressing the repeat button and then skipping until the player display read the number 9. Baby Come Close started softly through the speakers, and you remembered the first time he had you listen to it with him.
“This right here… is lovemaking music,” he proclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at you, only half-joking. Your eyes widened as you playfully swatted his arm, causing him to bellow with laughter. “But make no mistake, it sounds so much better on vinyl.”
“Then why aren’t we listening to it on vinyl?” You teased, prodding his chest with your finger.
“The thought of keeping my collection here with me at school when I live with these idiots makes me shudder, honey. Get real.”
Bradley’s expression was puzzled as you crawled across the bed to straddle his lap, cupping his face and running your thumbs over his smooth skin. He beamed at you nonetheless. “What are you –” You cut him off by gently tilting his chin upward and placing a slow, sensual kiss on his lips. Your lips moved perfectly in sync as he sat up a little straighter, placing his hands on your hips. You shakily reached for one of his hands before setting your discarded lace panties in his palm. He pulled away to look at the delicate fabric and blinked a few times before slowly sliding his other hand under your skirt to grip your bare behind. He softly drew a circle on the skin there with his thumb. His touch felt like static and left goosebumps in its wake, making you shiver. It suddenly clicked in Bradley’s mind as he remembered what he told you about this song, it made his chest constrict. You nervously bit your lip as you watched him short circuit in real time. Bradley took pause as he met your eyes, full of both lust and uncertainty. “Are you saying…”
“I’ve been wondering what it feels like, how you feel, for a while,” you admitted softly, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Bradley swallowed hard, his heartbeat in his ears as he hung on every word you said. Your gaze shifted to focus on your hands as you nervously stated, “I don’t want to wait any longer, Bradley. I think I’m ready.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he hesitantly caught your lips again. He grinned into the kiss and pushed your shirt up slightly to rub his calloused thumbs along the soft skin of your waist. You sighed into his mouth as your lips parted, which Bradley took advantage of by sliding his tongue to massage against yours in your mouth.
“We’ll take it slow. I’ll take care of you,” He promised after a long moment with a heavy breath, slowly inching a hand further up your tee to palm your breast and pinching your nipple through your bra, enough for your breath to catch in your throat. “Is this okay?” His eyes snapped to yours expectantly, and he smiled softly when you nodded. Bradley pulled your shirt upward over your head and tossed the material to the floor. He took a moment to marvel at the lacey red bra that matched the underwear in his hand before attaching his lips to your neck and flinging your panties aside. You sighed, bringing your arms up loosely around the back of his neck to run your fingers through the curls at his nape. He raised a hand to cradle your jaw, his thumb gently nudging it to angle your chin to give him more access, and his other expertly sliding up your back to unhook your bra with ease. You sighed in relief as the restrictive material fell down your arms and tried to fight the bashful feeling that washed over you. You felt your face flush as you realized Bradley was the first person to see you this way, all hot and flushed on top of him. He blinked as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “Absolutely perfect, angel.”
You experimentally ground your hips down onto his and the friction of his denim jeans against your bare core made you whimper. You could feel his hard cock through the stiff material separating you, and you desperately wanted more. Your shaky hands fumbled with the button of his pants as you kissed down his jaw and along his neck, placing hot, lingering kisses on the somewhat-fresh scars that stretched across his skin. He chuckled softly, placing his hands over yours to steady them as he guided the button out of the loop.
“Relax, baby. We can take it nice and slow,” Bradley reassured you before lifting you from him to shimmy out of his jeans. But before you could touch him again, he wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you over, gently placing you underneath him. He rubbed your sides as he shifted his weight on top of you, pushing you into the plush of his mattress. He supported himself on his forearm as mouth latched onto your right nipple, his free hand massaging your other breast. You moaned softly, you felt him smile against your soft skin. Bradley’s tongue swirled around the bud, and he released it with a pop before moving to the left one. When you arched your back, instinctively pushing up against his mouth, he groaned, His hand wandered to your thighs, rubbing them each for a while before slipping between them when you opened them slightly. He nudged your thigh to open wider with his knee. “Am I going too fast?” He asked, stopping his mouth on your skin to look up at you. You shook your head with a nervous smile and he placed a kiss on your sternum. “Tell me what you like.”
“I — I don’t know.” He furrowed his eyebrows at this confession.
“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself,” He requested, and stopped his movements when you opened your mouth to speak… and then closed it. “You’ve never touched yourself?”
“I have! Well, kind of. I either got bored, or whenever I felt anything building I just… stopped.”
“So… You’ve never came before, even on your own?” He prodded delicately, and you sheepishly shook your head. Bradley suppressed the moan at the back of his throat. He wet his lips with his tongue. “Oh, honey. I can’t believe you’re this innocent,” he said more to himself than to you, which made you feel a bit self-conscious. He noticed you tense. “No, baby, no, that isn’t what I mean. You’ve just been so… I never would have guessed.”
“I would understand if you didn’t want to keep going.” You offered, shifting uncomfortably. Bradley’s expression turned incredulous as he rapidly shook his head.
“No way is that deterring me from you. How about we find out what feels good together, okay?” You nodded and let out a shaky breath as his middle finger slowly slid through your slick and ghosted over your clit. An unexpected sound squeaked from your chest and you flushed when he met your eyes. “Soaked already. Is this all for me?” He shot you a lopsided grin, and smirked when you whimpered and nodded. You bucked your hips against his hand, a silent plea for any type of friction, and he obliged by rubbing your bundle of nerves in slow circles. This felt so much beyond anything you could have possibly done on your own, the unanticipated movements of his touches. You felt like your body was on fire.
“Bradley,” you pleaded, your legs starting to scramble. He held your hips down with one hand and slid his middle finger into you with the other, wordlessly obliging, slowly pumping it a few times before curling it upward and hitting a spot that had you arching your back and letting out a sharp gasp. “Oh!”
“How’s that?” He asked smugly, chuckling slightly as you could do nothing but dumbly nod and blink up at him, not exactly answering his question but it was definitely an answer all the same. He watches you with an amused grin as he repeated the motion with his skilled digit, eliciting a strangled moan from somewhere deep in your sternum.
The rumors you always heard about him before you got together were true, he certainly had magic fingers. The sounds he was pulling for you made him thank the high heavens that he had ears, and that his roommates had left town for the week. He kissed down your stomach and your breath hitched as he continued down, down, down. Bradley raised his eyes to meet yours, immediately softening at your slightly panicked expression. “May I?”
“I… Yes.”
“If you don’t like it, we can move on,” He beamed his reassurance at you earnestly. “But I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel so good, baby.” He teasingly kissed along the outside of your thighs, chuckling when you squirmed, desperate for any kind of contact. Suddenly, feeling his hot breath against your core, he placed a slow, delicate kiss against you before spreading you with his fingers, then licking a thick stripe upward.
“Oh, my fucking –” Bradley attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking. You could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter. His tongue dipped down to your weeping hole, teasingly plunging into you every so often. You didn’t know what to do with your hands as they scrambled to find purchase in the sheets. He guided one of your hands to his hair, your other following suit, and when your fingers tangled into his tresses, he groaned at the tug.
“You taste so good, honey,” Bradley breathed, and his voice was so raspy and full of lust it caused you to buck your hips slightly against his mouth. The comment made your cheeks heat up, almost embarrassed. He hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the immense pleasure he was already giving you. He pulled his mouth away and brought up two digits two your wetness, slowly teasing your entrance, making you whimper pathetically. “I love the little sounds that you make when I’m teasing you.” It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. He pushed his fingers into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the slightly uncomfortable stretch, before curling upward against your walls and moving them into you at a steady pace. You felt that unfamiliar feeling start to rise in your stomach and your legs began to shake.
“Bradley – I can’t – I think I’m gonna –”
“Come for me, baby,” He growled against you, harshly sucking your clit as his fingers sped up a bit. You cried out in complete ecstasy as you came undone under him, tugging his face impossibly closer into your core. He rutted his hips into the mattress as he watched you, desperate for friction, and continued to work you through it. You would have felt embarrassed about the way you convulsed if you hadn’t heard through the cotton filling your head, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.” As you came down from your high, you hissed from the overstimulation as he kept at you. You pushed his head back involuntarily and he chuckled before kissing the inside of your thigh apologetically. You tried to take a moment to catch your breath as he continued to kiss your thighs and around your heat. “Was that alright?”
You heaved a laugh at the question, you felt him grinning against your belly. “Something like that,” you quipped, meeting his eyes. He looked so in love, just watching your already fucked out expression as you tried to find your way back down to Earth. You ran your fingers through his hair, he pressed his cheek into your thigh. “I want that all the time.”
“I am so, so happy to oblige.” He suggested, experimentally going back down to kitten lick at your soaked cunt. You giggled, shaking your head.
“I wanna touch you too,” you stated breathlessly. Bradley cocked an eyebrow at you as you sat up and pushed him to lay backward to sit between his knees, reattaching your lips to his collarbone and eagerly kissing down his chest and abdomen. He chuckled, bringing a hand up to gently hold your hair out of your face. His finger lovingly swept a circle over your cheek. You boldly and playfully licked a thick stripe up his torso, causing a strained groan to bubble from his throat, before returning nip down to the waistband of his boxers. Your sudden confidence had quickly dissipated as you looked up at him with wide eyes. This was the first time you’d seen him this way, in this position. Bradley was so beautiful. He had been hitting the gym pretty hard in preparation for his hopeful, second-round acceptance into flight school come graduation next year and it was definitely paying off, though you admit you still liked it when he was a bit softer in the middle. He gave you an encouraging grin as you began to pull the material downward, his cock sprung free and slapped up against his abdomen. You blinked, dumbfounded, as you took in the sight of him. “I…”
“You don’t have to do anything.” He stated firmly with a soft smile, bringing a hand to brush the hair from your face once more. You furrowed your brows and shook your head.
“Teach me?” You gazed at him expectantly. “Show me how to touch you. Teach me how to make you feel good, too.” Fuck. He nodded, swallowing hard. He took your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before guiding it down to secure gently around his length. He tightened his hand over yours slightly, signaling you to tighten your grip a little. Taking his cock in your hand, you hesitantly pumped it a few times before surprising the both of you by boldly licking the precum from his tip. It was surprisingly pleasant but maybe it was because a soft, strangled moan bubbled from Bradley’s lips, which was enough to make you squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to do everything you could to hear that sound again. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, humming in approval as you hesitantly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged but recovered smoothly as he guided you to bob your head. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on his length and pumped what you couldn’t fit with your hand, just like you saw in the videos you sometimes watched in preparation for this moment.
“Are you sure this is your first time?” Bradley chuckled and sighed as his head fell back against the headboard. You couldn’t keep the cocky grin off your face as you repeated your motions. You figured he was exaggerating your skill for your benefit, but you didn’t care. The sounds leaving him were deliciously filthy, reassuring you that you were doing all the right things. “That’s it baby, just like that. So fucking good for me,” His hand gripped a fistful of your hair as he thrusted his hips toward your face slightly. You gagged but recovered immediately, though you could feel your embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “Shit, sorry, is that okay?” You hummed in response, the vibrations adding to Bradley’s pleasure so much so that he huffed out a string of curses. You could feel your wetness begin to drip down the side of your thigh, and you were getting a little antsy.
“Bradley…” You whined as you pulled back for air. Your body stiffened as nerves consumed you once more. “I want… I need…”
“What do you need, honey?” He questioned gently, pulling you up to him to catch your lips. He expertly flipped you back onto your back, slotting his body between your legs. You could feel him over your heat, causing you to experimentally buck your hips upward to grind against him. “Tell me what you need.” Bradley hissed as you whimpered. He fumbled to pull a condom from the box of his bedside drawer, planting wet kisses on your outstretched arm on his way back to you.
“Please fuck me,” you requested boldly. The filthy words from your lips made him throw his head back with a groan. “Bradley, please.” He tore the foil packet open with his teeth and pumped himself a few times before rolling the condom down onto his length. He kissed up your neck back to your lips as he positioned himself at your entrance, running the head of his cock through your slick folds.
“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” He kissed you sweetly. You smiled at him with a hesitant nod. You figured you would feel a lot more embarrassed than you did, feeling pathetically naive and innocent to be experiencing this for the first time at your age, but he never put the thought that he felt that way in your mind. Bradley was never condescending, he never talked down to you or made you feel like something too pure or too delicate to touch. He slowly pushed his tip into you, causing your eyes to water and screw shut. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders and your body went rigid.
“Angel, I need you to relax your muscles. I don’t want it to hurt,” He bit back a moan as he continued to fill you once you relaxed. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” You stated firmly. It didn’t hurt as bad as you were told it would, it was more uncomfortable than anything. He waited for you to adjust to him, idly planting wet kisses over the length of your neck and collarbone as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Bradley cooed. “You’re taking me so well,” After several minutes, you shifted your hips slightly in attempts to ease the discomfort, and… Oh. You moaned slightly at the new electricity inducing feeling that coursed through your body. Bradley picked up his head to reattach his lips to yours and pulled his hips back slightly before slowly thrusting back into you. You gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. His dilated pupils fixated on your own as he found his rhythm, pushing deeper into you while increasing his pace. His sweet moans were music to your ears, and yours to his. You were a whimpering mess underneath him, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as he ran a hand down your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist. “You’re so tight.” A deep-seated groan emitted from the back of his throat as his thrusts became sloppy, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. He took one of your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and bringing them to rest on the mattress above your head.
“You feel so…” You moaned before your lips latched onto his neck. “Fuck.”
“I love listening to you,” He admitted blissfully. “I never could have imagined the sweet noises you make.” You whimpered at his words. He hastily snaked a hand down between the two of you and started rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. The added sensation with him thrusting into your dripping core at a dizzying pace, repeatedly hitting just the right spot, was almost too much but so perfect. His praises kept stoking that building fire in the pit of your belly, and watching him watch you sent you over the edge once more. Your vision went white as a string of curses fell from your mouth. Your legs began to shake and the rest of your body stiffened.
“Bradley, oh my – fuck!”
“That’s it, good girl,” He groaned at the sight of you writhing underneath him. He sucked a mark into your collarbone to contain the melodies escaping him. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” Bradley rasped as he buried his face further into your neck. You brought up your other leg to tighten them both around him, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts as he came undone on top of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You had never seen such a beautiful sight, watching the muscles of his bicep contract as he held himself over you while he fell apart. He lazily peppered your neck with hot kisses, sucking marks into your skin, and after a few moments, he begrudgingly lifted himself off you with a huge grin plastered on his face. He would have stayed there forever if you let him. “How are you? Was that okay?” You giggled at his concern, shaking your head in disbelief.
“It was perfect,” you hummed in contentment. Definitely worth the wait, and now I know what I’ve been missing. Bradley’s phone began to ring, and when he lifted it to check the caller I.D., his smile faltered for a split second.
Mav
He hastily declined the call. Maverick was continuing to not get the hint of months’ worth of rejected calls and Bradley refused to let him ruin another perfect moment in his life right now.
“Who’s calling so late?” You joked. Fucking Maverick on his fucking Pacific Standard Time.
“Telemarketer, probably,” Bradley lied, cupping your face and kissing your lips sweetly. “What do you say we just skip the first day back tomorrow and stay in bed all day instead?” His grin was anything but angelic, borderline shit-eating, as he began to kiss his way down your neck to your chest. You erupted into giggles, pretending to push him away.
“Bradley!”
Baby Come Close was still thrumming through the speakers on repeat as you held each other, and neither of you were in any rush to end the perfect night. You both desperately wished that you could have stayed here forever.
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1K notes · View notes
aemondvelaryon · 6 months
Text
rare and sweet as cherry wine
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summary: you've been teasing jake all night and he's finally at his breaking point.
pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexual content, explicit language, dry humping, clothed sex, allusions to d/s relationship, mostly heavy petting, some praise kink cuz why not, what if dog tags were like a leash for me to pull, teasing, references to reader's callsign, unintentionally soft af, bottom jake seresin rights.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: maybe i just want to hear jake whimper okay??
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"Christ, baby, you're killing me here." Jake lets out a pained grunt as you settle into his lap. Your red dress pools over his thighs and his hardness, already evident and straining against the fabric of his jeans, is pressed warmly by your inner thigh.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Seresin." You hum softly as you play with the dog tags around his neck and he shivers at the contact; tracing your fingertips down the column of his throat and resting them on the light hairs on his chest.
"Don't act dumb. You knew exactly what you were doing when you put on that dress." He grits through his teeth and breathes quickly through them when you wiggle around a bit. "And no panties?" Jake's hands lay at his sides in clenched fists; worried that if he finally touches you that he'll break. "C'mon, are you trying to make me pitch a tent in front of the entire squad?"
You grin wolfishly at him. "Maybe...did it work?" It's impossible not to lick your lips at the sight of him. All worked up and blushing, trying his hardest not to surrender under your ministrations.
"Shit, stop touching me before I cum in my pants like a high schooler." You only look at him through your lashes and start unbuttoning his shirt, only enough so you can see more of that lovely chest hair.
You only grin at him as he hisses when you slightly graze the side of his nipple with your thumb. "I think I'd like to see that. Do you think I could make that happen, Jake? Make you come without even letting you fuck me?"
"I mean, it's kind of already happening." He almost thrusts up at you when you lean in close and breathe on his lips; so close and yet so far.
You giggle and lick your lips again before giving a tentative roll of your hips.
This finally kicks him into gear and his hands fly to your waist, digging into the skin above your hips. "Cher..."
"I want you to cum just like this. Okay?" You bite your lip. "For me?"
Jake groans as you rock lightly. "Yeah, shit, okay."
You smile at him and scoot yourself higher on his lap so your unclothed cunt is directly above the bulge in his pants and he grunts at the pressure. "Stay with me, baby. Gonna get you off. I promise. Then it's my turn." You grab his dog tags again and yank them forward quickly so Jake follows along with them. "Sound good?"
"Yeah. Sounds good." His voice is low and gravelly and the heat goes straight to your core at the sound and though you're trying to stay collected, you can feel the damp spot on his pants starting to form. You almost moan at the sensation but settle into a quiet hum again.
You finally offer him a kiss and he bucks up into you when your lips meet. One hand wrapped around the back of his head and grabbed the soft hair, and the other situated itself around his neck. Jake envelopes his arms around you and he curls his fingers into the fabric of your dress; rucking it up just enough that your bare thighs are now showing and if he just pulled up slightly more then your cunt would be on full display for him.
You know you're being kind of a tease to him but you just can't help it. Something about watching arrogant Jake Seresin unravel in front of you and turn to putty in your hands made you unbelievably wet. The thought of getting him alone and making him whimper under you blurred your vision more than any tequila short or high G's could.
The kiss you're sharing is sloppy, unbelievably so, all tongue and no finesse, but it's good, so good, and it just shows how desperate Jake is for you.
You can feel the humidity of the room building enough that sweat prickles the back of your neck and lower back and all you feel is your own wetness and perspiration in the humid room.
You roll your hips experimentally again and you can feel the tremble that comes out of Jake and he jerks away a little, grabbing you for purchase.
"Shit, shit, shit."
"You close, honey?" You love egging him on, wanna know how quick it takes for you to get him there. The idea of him always near the edge just for you makes you salivate. You wonder how often you could do this, how much would it take of you tugging at your dress, bending over, and showing him your tits in public before he has to go to the bathroom and jerk off so he doesn't get on some sort of list. It makes you vibrate that you can have that much of an effect on him when he's usually Mr. Easy-Breezy and too cool to show any emotions.
Jake doesn't answer instead he just swallows and puts his hands on the front of your dress; questioning. "Can I please? I wanna see you." He lightly tugs on the strings of your wrap dress.
You can't help but smile as you look at his puppy dog eyes. "Yeah, but only 'cuz you've been so good."
He wastes no time pulling the knot loose and pushing the fabric off your shoulders, it pooling at the waist. The black bralette you put on earlier that night is now your only scrap of clothing. "God, you're perfect."
Despite your dominant role tonight, you full body blush at his words. It was impressive how Jake could say a simple sentence and make you want to giggle and kick your legs like a schoolgirl.
You bat your hand at his chest. "Back to it." He was making you feel shy and you had a fake persona to protect.
"Slave driver." A grin covers your face despite yourself and you lean back in to kiss him, placing your palms around the curve of his cheeks. It's soft, much too soft, but you're a little overcome with emotion so you'll let this one kiss break the façade. "Back to the grind."
You finally laugh and snap your neck back and Jake takes the opportunity to latch onto the skin near your collarbone. Moaning as he sucks a bruise on you, you rub yourself onto his lap in revenge. He hisses again and you fight for control of the situation.
Wanting to finally get to the good stuff, you run your hands up his head and curl your fingers into the hair directly at the middle of his scalp and tug sharply backward.
Jake lets out the most choked moan you've ever heard from him; as if someone hit him straight in the gut and knocked the wind out of him. You're helpless to stop the absolutely filthy grin that covers your face at the reaction he has.
It was a low blow but you knew that it would help get going in the right direction again. You make fun of him sometimes by calling that your finisher move like some cheesy arcade game just because it always got Jake right at the edge really quickly.
"Oh, baby, you're just too easy sometimes." You laugh and fiddle with the buttons of his shirt again, finally opening it up to the bottom and revealing his whole bare chest.
"Christ," Jake's breath is coming out in quick pants. "That was mean."
"I can be meaner." You smirk and palm him through the fabric of his jeans. "You wanna see?"
"No." You grind against him again. "Yes." He trembles under you.
Jake's been good. So good. He deserves this. You want to see the look on his face when he finally comes apart.
"Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you." You sweep your hands softly down his pecs to his stomach and eventually the trail of dark blond hair leading down.
Jake lets out what you can only describe as a whine as you hook your fingers into the top of his pants, grabbing for security, and start slowly but steadily rocking yourself back and forth, the hot wet heat of your cunt soaking his pants and quickly getting him off.
"Holy shit," Jake leaned up suddenly, grabbing your waist reflexively with both hands, digging his thumbs into the meat of your hips, gripping firmly and holding on to you while simultaneously pushing you subtly to meet his thrusts.
Every rock of your hips sends a shock of pleasure up your spine as your clit rubs against the hard length of his cock over and over. You keen a little as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. He's not even inside of you but the clothed friction sets you alight and makes you impossibly hot under the collar. But you have to see him come before you can; need to.
"Come on, baby, for me, wanna see it, please." It comes out more as a breathy whine than a command but in the moment you want it so bad you can barely think straight.
The begging in your voice must set him off because that's the last sound you make before Jake's shuddering and groaning underneath you, clutching at the last remnants of your dress bunched at your thighs.
There's a moment, a pause, where all you can hear is Jake's heavy breathing, but his staccato rhythm is cut off by him surging up to kiss you. It's full of satisfaction and warmth and a hint of gratefulness that turns your brain into mush.
"Mmm, good boy." You whisper against his lips and he exhales shakily into your mouth.
"Well, these pants are ruined now." Jake laughs a bit awkwardly, you think it's more at his reactions to your words and praises than at what you've done.
"Worth it." You press your lips to his soundly then grab your dress around your waist and fling the fabric backward onto the ground behind you. "Now, you got me all worked up, baby, time to show me what you can do."
627 notes · View notes
coconutcordiale · 2 years
Text
do not disturb
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pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader (no use of y/n)
synopsis-
“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”
warnings- 18+ only minors DNI, what's a plot never met her, explicit protected piv sex, lil corruption/innocence kink, choking (pls look up the correct way before doing it), hangman's dirty mouth, size kink (if jake doesn't have a big dick I'm staging a revolt), brat tamer hangman if you squint, inexperienced ish reader (tried but I'm a hoe so idk if I managed it), no kink negotiation here (talk to your partners first irl), safewords not explicitly stated but I promise this is consensual af, excessive pet names, exasperated sleepy friends to lovers
length- 4k this was supposed to be like 1k I don't know blame hangman
an- this is just smut w lil fluff sprinkles. i'm a hangman girl (read: I'm obsessed with glen powell) so I felt some type of way about being mean to him in tailspin & that's why this now exists. also idfk what this even is sorry! hope it's not terrible ok ily bye
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Technically, it’s the middle of the night. 
That’s why you’re burying homicidal urges when you hear knocking on your hotel room door. 
Urges that increase tenfold when you open it to see Jake Seresin, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly in an old Navy shirt that looks way too soft for your sleep addled brain to deal with right now. 
“Hangman,” you greet drily. “Why the fuck.”
Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you’re not unhappy to see him, per se, but it’s well past acceptable social hours. He’ll have to forgive your less than enthusiastic welcome. Part of you thinks you might still be sleeping.
He at least has the decency to look sheepish for waking you up. Well, about as sheepish as Hangman is capable of looking. “Coyote said he was bringing someone back to our room. Can I crash with you tonight? Everyone else is either hooking up or dead asleep.”
Fucking weddings. 
You narrow your eyes. “What if I have someone here?”
He smirks and you kind of want to slap him. 
A testament to your willpower, you sigh instead, briefly wondering if it’s really that bad to force him to sleep in the hallway, before opening the door and stepping to the side. 
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he drawls, letting you feel the heat of his body as he passes by you, just a touch too close for comfort.
“Cool pjs.” He smirks again, raking his eyes up and down your colorful matching shorts and shirt set. 
“Bite me.”
Hangman smiles good-naturedly causing you to idly wonder if anything has ever bothered him in his entire life. 
“You’re real cute when you’re tired,” he says instead of being offended and now you’re debating if you actually should slap him, or maybe yourself for the way his compliment brings heat to your cheeks. 
“Where’s Phoenix? Thought you were sharing a room with her this weekend.”
Your stomach drops as you consider that Phoenix might be why he came to crash in your room, and you try not to make a face at its betrayal. 
“She’s probably in your room with Coyote,” you deadpan to cover up your discomfort, and then relish in the way his mouth drops open in surprise. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be smart, Hangman? I’m kidding, she met someone at the reception.”
You know you’re being a little more abrasive with him than normal, but you can’t quite help the jabs that come out when you’re feeling uneasy. 
And Hangman does nothing, if not make you very, very uneasy. Especially like this, with his blonde hair soft and flopping all over his forehead, that old t-shirt clearly having been shrunk in the wash over the years straining across his chest, riding up a little high above his sweatpants. 
The gears are clearly turning in his head, no doubt forming something witty to gain back the slight upper hand you’ve gained in this verbal sparring. 
You should be preparing yourself for whatever he’s about to say that’s sure to make you lose your footing. But he looks like a goddamn sleepwear model like this, mellow and soft and cuddly, eyes drooping a little from tiredness and the whiskey he was sipping on all night, clothes begging to have someone’s hands fisted in them and…okay. Stopping that train of thought right the fuck now.
Nothing but danger lies down that road with a girl like you and a guy like Hangman.
You’re contemplating if you could get away with taking a cold shower when he finally looks around your room, its distinct lack of two beds apparently killing whatever comeback he had on the tip of his tongue. 
“I can sleep on the floor.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again and his uncharacteristic awkwardness is starting to make your skin itch. 
Message received, Hangman. We both know I’m not your type.
You’ve seen the girls he usually goes home with. Even if every single one of them wasn’t annoyingly beautiful, you already know where you stand with him. For all intents and purposes, you’re just another one of the guys. Sure, you don’t take a different conquest home every other night like the rest of them, but you banter and compete with them like buddies. 
And since you and Hangman are just buddies, you roll your eyes for appearances. “Just get in the bed, Seresin. It’s huge, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”
He shrugs, like he’s giving himself credit for his half-assed offer and goes to pull his sweatpants off. You give him a withering look of disbelief, studiously avoiding looking at the way his boxers stretch over his muscular thighs. 
“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”
He just gives you a dazzling smile in response, and you spin away from him before everything inside you melts. 
Turning the thermostat down, you shoot an evident you’re welcome stare in his direction, but his sweatpants remain in their place on the floor. He’s laid out on the bed, all tanned skin and muscle, arms crossed behind his head in a way that’s surely meant to draw your attention straight to his biceps. 
Deep breath, you tell yourself. You can do this, just lay down on the other side and don’t be weird. 
You get in and pull the covers tight, hoping the shiver that runs through you as the air conditioning kicks on isn’t noticeable. 
“And I’m dramatic,” Jake huffs, getting under the blanket and rolling closer to you. You tense, merely out of reflex and a frown creases his eyebrows almost imperceptibly before he gets comfortable on his side, pulls you into his arms. “Relax, sugar. Just trying to keep you warm, since you’re always so cold. Been told I’m like a furnace.”
By who?  You want to snap at him, but instead you swallow the words and lean into his chest. He really is warm. 
“Would never do anything you don’t want me to,” he mumbles, but there’s a trace of a chuckle in his voice that feels like he’s making fun of you.
Mocking aside, that's definitely true.
You'd never expect him to do any of the things you want him to, either. There's a reason your apprehension stems from you crossing some sort of invisible line with him in your bed and not vice versa.
"I know," you whisper, not trusting yourself to say much else without divulging all the thoughts about him you've buried deep under your comforter at home.
“How come you didn’t ask anyone else to come up and keep you warm?” Jake teases, after a few moments of silence where you were busy focusing on the whirr of the air conditioner and trying to ignore your pounding heart. 
You squint, still kind of wondering if he can feel your pulse racing. 
“The curly haired guy, from the wedding,” he supplies helpfully to answer your confused expression.
Oh. You’re surprised Jake noticed you talking to him at all. “It’s not like I wanted to sleep with him. We were just chatting.” 
“Well, he definitely wanted to.” You’d love to imagine there’s a hint of bitterness in his tone, but you know that’s just wishful thinking.
“That’s not really my thing,” you say quietly, as if he doesn’t already know. He knew enough to know you wouldn’t have anyone up here with you, after all.
It’s so much easier, laying here in the dark, not having to meet his beautiful green eyes, to be honest. All your jabs having melted into smooth, silky edges at the warmth of his body.
There’s a playful lilt to Jake’s voice again. “Sex?”
You smack him lightly on the chest. “One-night stands. I can never get comfortable enough with a stranger to have a good time, things are just better for me when it’s more involved.”
When there’s feelings, you don’t say, because you’re pretty sure he can put two and two together without you having to spell it out.
You still kind of wish you hadn’t said anything, are kicking yourself for admitting that out loud when he cuts through the anxiety of your internal monologue.
“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want, darlin’.”
“It sucks sometimes,” you admit. “It can be a little lonely.”
“Better than being with the wrong person if it’s just going to make you feel bad.”
Part of you wants to roll your eyes and scoff at him, as if Casanova Jake Seresin has any idea what that feels like, but he’s rubbing small, comforting circles in between your shoulder blades and it’s short-circuiting your brain. You find yourself running your fingers up his spine instead, playing with the soft threads of his t-shirt like you’ve wanted to since the moment you saw him at your door tonight.
“Feels nice,” he comments, pulling you in closer.
Spurred on by his praise you keep going, wandering down his back to where his shirt rides up. You look down and see that little strip of blonde hair that disappears into the waistband of his boxers, slung low enough that you can see that stupid Adonis belt on his abs. Your hand moves to the front of him of its own accord, tracing the ridges there, brushing dangerously close to the strip of elastic at the top.
Jake’s arm pops up so he can support his head with his hand, looking down at you imploringly. “What’re you playing at, sugar?”
You take your hand back like it’s been burned, cheeks suddenly hot as you realize you’d gotten carried away. “I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t think about what I was doing. Got distracted.”
He’s definitely smirking, you can practically feel it in the air above you, but you’re sure as hell not going to look up and see that self-important grin for yourself.
He pulls your fingers back to his stomach, and you can’t help but immediately brush them over his happy trail. The dusting of blonde hair surprises you a little, having expected Hangman to be too vain to leave any hair around that might distract from his physique.
You’re silently wondering if he has any hair on his chest when he catches a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You see his green eyes darkened, studying your face for something. You’re not entirely sure what.
Apparently finding what they’re looking for his expression softens, the hand supporting his head going to brush hair away from your face and you break eye contact, feeling small under his undivided attention. His fingers hover for a second, like he wants to do something more, but go to rest on your pillow instead.
“Thought that I had you pegged wrong all along for a second there, using lines to get in my pants. That’s not really my thing,” he mimics, smile twitching at the edges of his lips.
“Oh, I’m—Jake, I’m not—” you stutter, certain you must be bright red now. Your fingers are playing with the hem of his t-shirt, nervous and fidgety energy working to get released.
I’m not like this, you want to say. I’m not like you.
He exhales audibly, looking down at you, at the cherry blooming on your cheeks, at where your dainty fingers pluck at his shirt. His hand clenches once in the pillow above your head, knuckles practically white, before releasing.
“I know, sweets, was only joking. Fuck, I get that you’re a good girl,” he breathes, strained like he’s barely holding it together. “S’why I always want to ruin you.”
What.
Everything inside your mind shuts off.
All you can hear is the humming of the air conditioner, the slow intake of air into his lungs. Something inside you clenches.
You’re fairly certain a sound that closely resembles a whimper breaks from your throat, but you can’t know for sure, since all thoughts have been erased from your brain.
You hear him suck in a sharp breath, breathing in and out evenly for a couple seconds, regaining control, before he speaks again. “Sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t have said that. I won’t, told you I’d never do anything you don’t want.”
You already know that. That’s not the problem. The problem is how many nights you’ve already spent wishing his fingers were on you instead of your own. How many nights you've spent biting back his name, too embarrassed to let your lips form the syllables of someone who you were certain didn’t want you.
Now, though, those walls of certainty seem to be crumbling at every edge. 
“What if I want you to?” You ask quietly, barely above a whisper. It almost gets stuck in your throat, but you force your lips to form those words and let them leave your lungs.
Jake’s entire body goes tense.
But then he rolls over, putting you on your back and caging you in with his arms.
“You mean that?” He’s looking at you intensely, so intensely you might be frightened if you weren’t distracted by the weight of him on top of you, by every single scorching point of contact between you. 
All you can manage is a nod, eyes starting to glaze over as he fills every inch of your vision.
He chuckles. “Guess that’s a yes.”
Jake ducks his head to kiss you, it’s sweet, sweeter than you ever would’ve expected from him. Sweeter than you thought it would be when you were hiding beneath the sheets in your bed, with your fingers on your clit, choking back his name. 
But then he slides his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss as he tangles a hand in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you moan straight into his mouth. His lips move down to ghost over your neck, across your jaw. 
And suddenly his words are hot in your ear. “What do you want, sweetheart? Want me to ruin you? Tell you about all the times I’ve thought about taking you apart?”
Your thighs clench together, heat blooming in your stomach and you notice, all at once, how wet you really are, slick pooling between your thighs under the wispy material of your sleep shorts. 
You open your mouth to say yes, desperately trying to find your voice, to find your familiar jabs so you can go toe to toe with him like normal, but all that comes out is a squeak. 
His hand stops at your neck, just briefly, thumb rubbing on your pulse point. And it turns every last bit of you in you to sweet, sticky, melting caramel. Your breath hitches, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a whimper.
He’s not even doing anything, not really, but your mind immediately latches onto what he could be.
Jake’s eyes go wide for just a second before something wicked glints in the thin ring of green left.
“Thought you were so fucking innocent,” he grunts, running his thumb from your pulse point to your jaw and back again. You bring your hands to his, pulling him closer, silently asking him to press down.
You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t know how to explain. You may not do this kind of thing a lot, but you know what you like. Your imagination has certainly run wild enough times.
But any words that might’ve been readying themselves to leave your lips wither into nothing the moment he squeezes your neck.
“Jake,” you gasp, words breathy underneath the fingers around your throat. “Jake, I…”
“Hmm, what’s that, sweetheart?” His hand relents a little so you can answer, but you immediately wish he’d tighten his hold again.
“Yes, Jake,” you whine. “I want you to ruin me.”
And you don’t know what’s come over you, if you were even an ounce more present in your own body you’d probably be embarrassed.
But Jake’s head drops next to his hand at the crook of your neck, and he makes a strangled noise, the moan reverberating through your skin. 
“Jesus,” he mutters against you. “Trying to kill me, sugar?”
You don’t have an answer for that because you’re not trying to do anything, you just want more.
Your fingers are still grasping his hand, the one still around your neck, tightly, like you’re scared he’ll pull it away, leave you to drift without his grip to ground you, to remind you this moment is real. It’s actually happening. 
He lifts his head up to latch his mouth onto yours again and it’s heavier, so much more desperate than before. You whine into him as he slides his hands down your body, pushing up your shirt and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it, that you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your entire life and you’re both still fully clothed. 
He peels your shirt up and over your head, letting out another obscene groan at the sight of your bare chest. 
“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs. 
You fist your hands in his shirt in answer, tugging upwards, figuring fair is fair. You’re trying hard not to blush, not to show how his approval makes you light and fuzzy. He grins and sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt up and over his head, ruffling his floppy hair in the process. 
Lips parting unconsciously, your tongue flicks out to wet them. You knew he was built, but it’s overwhelming, really, to have all that tan skin on display just inches from your face. You get to run your hands up the length of his entire chest now though, leaning up so your fingers can dance through the tuft of blonde hair near the top.
Jake pushes you down on your back, firm, into the pillows. Smiling deviously when you pout and immediately clench your fingers in the sheets beside you, when your thighs press together, seeking some sort of relief to the ache between them. The seam of your shorts presses just right against your center, and you let your head fall back with a soft moan. 
Something akin to dangerous flashes in Jake’s eyes, as he hooks his fingers in your shorts, pulling down in one swift motion and tossing them off the bed before you can gain any more pleasure from the thin material. He pushes your legs apart and groans at the sight of you, glistening wet for him. “God, sweetheart, look at you.”
Just when you think you might die if he doesn’t put his hands on you, if he doesn’t touch you, if he just keeps looking at you like that, like he wants to devour you; he swipes a finger up your slit, tip pressing lightly, teasingly against your bundle of nerves. It’s too much, but not enough all at the same time. He slides a finger in, curling it exactly right on the first try and you can’t help but keen, throwing your head back into the pillows.  
He sucks in a sharp breath at your reaction, eyelids going heavy as he presses rough figure eights on your clit. “Want to get my mouth on you, get my tongue inside that gorgeous pussy, but I can’t wait, darlin’, been thinking about this for too long.” 
Warmth blooms in your chest at the realization he might’ve imagined this even half as much as you have. You’re sure you’re smiling like an idiot. 
Reaching down to the pocket of his sweatpants, he pulls a condom out of his wallet, and you want to tease him, presumptuous much? But any semblance of thought goes out the window when he pulls his boxers down, hard cock slapping against his stomach. Your mouth is suddenly, immediately sandpaper dry. 
Fuck.
Of course he’s huge. No one with an ego as colossal as his doesn’t have a reason, or several to back it up.
You don’t even hear yourself saying it out loud, don’t even realize the curses forming on your tongue, until he grins, eyebrow raised, chest puffed out in pride. “Think you can handle me, sweetheart?”
It takes you a few moments to answer, to figure out that you should answer, since you’re transfixed on him, on the strong fingers rolling the condom onto his length. If you had any sense of self-preservation at all you might be genuinely worried about his question, about not being able to walk tomorrow. 
Hopefully you don’t sound as winded as you feel when you tell him to shut the fuck up. 
Before you can bother with any stupid survival instincts, you’re pulling him down on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist, savoring the grunt it draws from him as his tip reaches your folds.
“Love it when you’re mouthy, darlin’, nice little challenge for me,” he promises, before pushing himself inside of you. 
He goes slow, tortuously slow, and you screw your eyes shut tight as your walls flutter trying to adjust to him. You don’t notice you’re on the verge of a sob until he brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “Just a little more, sweetheart, you can take it.”
The stretch of him seems to go on forever, just on this side of agonizing, but way too good for you to care about the pain, too good to be real and you can barely focus on anything else. Can barely hear Jake’s molten honey voice repeating a slew of continuous praises in your ear, can barely register the weight of his body covering every inch of you. 
Any moment now you’ll wake up in your bed at home, covered in sweat, grinding into your bed, achingly alone. You’re almost certain of it.  
But then you feel his lips on yours again, hand holding your cheek, gentle, affectionate as he bottoms out. When he finally moves, the heavy, slick pull of him in and out of you reminds you that you’re here. 
You don’t even recognize yourself, mewling, long string of unintelligible noises tumbling from your lips. 
Jake practically preens. “Where’d my feisty little brat go? That all it takes to shut you up, sugar?”
You can only hope those were rhetorical questions because he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, picking up the pace, new angle hitting that spot deep inside you again and again, and you can’t form a single thought, let alone words. 
Jake’s fingers find your center again and press against your clit in heavy, decisive circles, winding that coil in you tighter and tighter. 
“So close,” you whimper, fingers tearing at the bedsheets.
He smirks. 
“Did I say you could come, sweetheart?”
Your jaw drops in surprise, eyes rolling back and ears ringing, mind engulfed in the heat burning in your belly. 
He’s still grinning smugly as one of those large hands comes back to your neck. 
You whine, high-pitched and breathless, eyes fluttering closed, gripping the hand around your neck as he applies pressure, desperate for something to hold onto, and you think you’re trying to form words, some of them may even be making it out of your mouth, something along the lines of please please please, let me come, Jake, I can’t, JakeJakeJakeJake…
“So pretty all fucked out like this, stretched around my cock.” His gaze is fixed on where he’s plunging in and out of you, tone almost reverent. “It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me, wanna feel you, want…”
You don’t hear the rest because you’re focused on where his fingers dig into the sides of your neck, tipping over the edge, string of lights inside of you tangled and blowing a fuse. Everything bursts all at once and you’re clutching Jake’s arms so hard you’re positive you’re leaving marks, but it doesn’t matter, you don’t care because you’re in a free fall, toes curling in bliss. 
When you come to, you’re just barely aware of his pace growing erratic, hand on your throat loosening as it goes to brush your sweaty hair back from your forehead. His thrusts are getting shallower, mouth spewing a litany of jumbled praises so tight, so wet, so perfect baby, when suddenly he’s arching over you, hands tight on your hips as he empties into the condom. 
You’re not sure you’re still functioning. You’re not sure you’ll ever move again. You’re pretty sure you’ll ever have a coherent thought again.
Distantly you can hear his heavy breathing, feel his weight on top of you but you don’t fully register it. 
“Sweetheart?” He asks when you’ve been silent for minutes, or maybe hours, who knows. 
You look up at him, blinking slowly, eyelids made of lead, vision unfocused.
Jake grins, and it's almost boyish. It's annoyingly cute. “That good?” 
That cuts through the haze enough that you kind of want to slap him, for the arrogance littering those three little words. Or yourself, for helping his ego grow any bigger. 
As it stands, you’re too dazed to actually do either. You nod, silently burrowing your face into his neck. He chuckles again, and you decide maybe you don’t hate that teasing sound that much, maybe you’ll spend your days trying to elicit it from him as often as possible. You’re still thinking about it when he peels himself off you to clean you both up. 
When he settles back down, he pulls you in tight, curls around you in a way that should be uncomfortable, like he’d crawl inside your skin if he could. 
+
Jake is still glued to you when you wake up in the morning, and your heart clenches too affectionately to be irritated by the fact that you can’t really move. Or breathe. 
But you take one look at the smirk on his face, the mischievous glimmer that seems to linger even in his sleep and the butterflies in your stomach turn to stone.
You don’t think he’s that much of an asshole, you’re pretty sure the bravado is all a front. That he wouldn’t do something like this, knowing how you operate, without any intention of moving forward, but the anxiety still thrums incessantly beneath your ribcage.
You’re lost inside your own head, fighting the panic rising in your chest when he yawns, rubbing his eyes before tucking himself back into your side, impossibly closer.  
“Guess that fifty bucks I gave Phoenix to find somewhere else to stay was a steal,” he mumbles, fingers dancing across your bare skin. 
It’s his turn to pat himself on the back as your mouth drops open in shock. 
Jake grins, eyes sparkling as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”
4K notes · View notes
callsigndragon · 1 year
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Sunshine | Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
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(I love this gif so much I'm not even joking)
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Wife!reader
Word count: 1010
Warnings: nothing! Pure, lovely fluff.
This was requested by @bookaholics-stuff. Thank you, honey! This was such a cute request and I just had to write it NOW. Hope you like it!
FOREVER TGM TAGLIST: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74
(if you want to be tagged, ask me!)
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Mrs. Seresin was the only thing Jake didn't brag about. Don't get me wrong, it's not because he is not proud of you. Quite the opposite. 
He's so damn happy to have you in his life that he wants to treasure you. Keep you to himself. 
And there hasn't been a lot of time to talk about each other's lives during this mission. Phoenix wants to fix this matter, actually, suggesting all the members that a day at the beach could be a good opportunity to get to know each other. 
Unbeknownst to you, Jake had agreed to meet with the rest this Saturday, have something to drink at the Hard Deck, play some Dogfight football… Just a bunch of friends spending a normal day at the beach without having to worry about the safety of the planet. But that plan is thrown out the window when you, Y/n Seresin, the love of Jake’s life, ring the bell of Jake and Javy’s shared house. 
“Sunshine? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Jake says, while hugging you tightly. It has only been a few weeks since the last time he saw you, but it feels like a lifetime away from you. 
“Heard that my handsome hubby had chalked up another kill, saved the day and also the famous Maverick. I had to come here and celebrate!” you explain, covering his face with kisses, Jake scrunching his nose due to the pure happiness of the moment. 
“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush, Mrs. Seresin” 
“Where’s Javy?” you ask, entering the house and leaving your small suitcase in the bedroom. 
“I don’t know, he said he was gonna meet Mickey and Reuben to buy something. Don’t ask me why because I can’t remember” he confesses, laughing. 
“Oh my, Jake Seresin, aren't you a bit young to be forgetting things?” you joke as you lay down on the bed, tired from the flight from Austin. You had been staying with your sister-in-law and her two kids for a few days, not wanting to be alone when you found out how dangerous this mission was going to be.
“It’s your fault. Do I have to remind you how I forgot my own name when I first saw you?” he recalls, sitting in the bed next to you, his hand quickly moving to your hair, and moving some strands out of your face. “You still have that effect on me, Sunshine” 
You smile, satisfaction running through your body as you realize that no matter how much time passes, Jake will always be completely and utterly in love with you. “I saw the beach while in the taxi. This place is amazing, Jake. And you are definitely sunbathing without me, huh? Look at that golden skin” you poke his cheek, making him giggle like a teenager.
Everyone saw Hangman, the aviator. 
But only you were able to see Jake, the loving husband. 
“Want me to take you to the beach, sunshine? We can take a bath and go for a walk.” he offers, kissing your forehead. 
“I’d love to”
-
“Is that woman talking to Hangman?” Phoenix questions out loud while leaving the cooler that Mickey, Reuben and Javy had bought earlier to fill with drinks, in the sand. 
“Maybe he is talking to the poor woman,” Fanboy suggests, moving his sunglasses down his nose to try and understand the whole situation. “Should we go rescue her?” 
“She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though” Payback adds, the whole squad standing there like a bunch of sentinels, ready to jump into action if the lady needed to be liberated from the blonde cowboy. 
Seconds later, Hangman is throwing the poor girl over his shoulder and walking straight to the water. “Oh god, he’s gonna get smacked,” Bob laughs, opening his blue folding chair and sitting down to enjoy the show. 
“JAKE SERESIN PUT ME DOWN” you yell, trying to leave your husband’s arms, only to be thrown in the water. You stand up, your sundress now completely stuck to your body. Thank god you are wearing your swimsuit underneath. “If I didn’t vow to love you for the rest of my life I would kill you” 
“Did she say ‘vow’ as in ‘wedding vow’?" Rooster asks, looking at the rest of his team. “Man, I don’t understand anything” 
Javy, who had been trying to get the beach umbrella from the trunk after it got stuck, walks happily to the rest, wondering why the heck are they standing there like… well, idiots. “Guys what are you- Y/N SERESIN?” 
“JAVY!” the woman, who now everyone knows it’s a Seresin, runs to Javy, almost tackling him to the ground. "I'm so glad you're okay" 
"What are you guys doing here?" Questions Hangman to the group, joining his wife and his best friend. 
"Dude, beach day. We told you" Fanboy looks at Hangman, wondering if the pilot really had forgotten about it or was just messing with them. 
"Excuse my husband, he's having trouble remembering things lately" you tease him, earning a glare from Jake. 
"Husband" mutters Bob.
"Husband?" asks Phoenix. 
"Husband!" confirms Javy. 
"I'm Y/N. We've been married for three years now. And no, I wasn't forced to marry him, Rooster. I know you were about to say that" you say to Bradley, leaving him shocked. 
"I was gonna ask that, yes. How did you know? And how did you know I was Rooster" 
"Oh, cause I'm good, Rooster. I'm really good" you retort, making Jake laugh. 
"Oh no, there's two of them. We're doomed" Bob says, sitting down again. 
"I'm guessing Javy was the best-man?" Javy nods at Phoenix, answering her question. "Well, Mrs. Seresin, would you like to play some Dogfight football with us?" 
"I don't even know what's that but teach me, and I will play" you say, taking off the sundress and stealing Jake's sunglasses from him. 
He looks at you, wondering what had he done in a past life to be this lucky. Good job, good friends, and the perfect wife. His own personal sunshine. 
3K notes · View notes
autumntouched · 1 year
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If Lost Return to Jake
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Summary: Jake is a simp. It says so on his shirt
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x GF!Reader
Warnings: mention of sex but nothing explicit
A/N: Got drop kicked HARD today (at least a Phoenix fic was born for later), went looking for comfort, and came across something I whipped up a few weeks ago based on a chat @glen-powells and I had about t-shirts Jake definitely owns. Could be better, but it made me smile
As soon as you get home, you change into leggings and a sweatshirt and curl up on your bed. You’re exhausted from a long week at work and planning your friend’s bachelorette party. You wish you’d told her bridal party only, but you adore her and it’s her special weekend so you’ll put in the extra work to wrangle fifteen women for a weekend in New Orleans. Five minutes, you tell yourself. You’ll start dinner in five minutes. But ten minutes later, you’re still curled up in the cozy nest of your comforter and after twenty minutes you start to wonder whether you can skip dinner altogether. Try again for breakfast in the morning.  
You’ve just resigned yourself to letting your stomach growl itself to sleep when you hear keys in the door, and Jake calls your name. You let him know that you’re in the bedroom. Your body aches, it’s so tired but just the sound of his voice has your heart rate stumbling over itself in excitement. Guess you’re cooking dinner after all. You bury a groan in your arm, but you’re already smiling. 
He’s still in uniform when he eases the door open. In uniform and holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers. Maybe you fell asleep. If you are, you’re already looking forward to seeing where this dream goes because those twinkling green eyes and dimples are really doing a number on you. 
Your brain catches up to the moment and you fly up. “Wait, what are the flowers for?” You can’t quite hide the pitch of panic in your voice that you’ve forgotten an important date. You have to put multiple alerts in your phone for anniversaries and birthdays and still sometimes they slip past you. 
“Oh, these?” He’s trying to sound off-handed, but he’s beaming at the excitement edging out your concern. “Just a pretty excuse to drop in on an absolutely stunning woman.” He lays them on the bed beside you because you’re already waiting for him on your knees. Jake runs his hands down your arms, his rough fingers skimming the sensitive undersides of your forearms and wrists as he lifts them around his shoulders and sidles closer. You’re practically nose to nose. “Also thought she might like something to eat,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “So I stopped and got her some dinner.”
“Such a simp,” you smile, still amused by his teenage cousin’s wry assessment of him after you met his family at Thanksgiving.   
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to him. “And proud of it,” he brags before claiming your mouth. 
So when you’re scrolling through endless Etsy pages for your friend’s bachelorette party and come across a “Proud Simp” t-shirt, you giggle and immediately add it to your cart. You wrap it for him as beautifully as you wrap his birthday and Christmas gifts. You might be bad with dates, but you’re a wiz with some paper, ribbon, and a little tape. 
“What’s this for?” Jake asks when you go to his place to give it to him. You’re so excited to see his reaction that you nearly blurt it out. 
“Open it!” You rush him. 
But he notices how beautifully you’ve wrapped it and takes his time carefully trying to preserve your work, and it makes you want to shake him and kiss him all at once. 
You go all warm at the way his face lights up when he sees your inside joke in t-shirt form. Immediately, Jake strips off his black tee to put it on. But once you glimpse his muscled chest and the dark trail of hair from his pecs down into his low slung shorts, you decide he can also lose the shorts and everything under them for now. He’ll have plenty of time to wear your gift after he’s thoroughly thanked you for it. 
And thank you for it he does.
Jake wears it. A lot. At first you think it’s just around the house, but as he spends more and more time at your place you realize he wears it out too. To run errands, to football nights with his Dagger Squad buddies Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy despite their teasing, even to pick his cousin up from the airport when she comes to visit. 
Her latest assessment of him? “Please get help.”
You draw the line at him wearing it to his commanding officer’s cookout, which he pouts about until he’s distracted by your braless sundress with the spaghetti straps crossed in the back.
For Labor Day weekend, you fly to Texas to visit his family. He picks you up from the airport. When he gets out of the car to kiss you and load your bag into the trunk, you laugh at the t-shirt he’s wearing. It says ‘I’m Jake.” 
“Did you forget your name or something?” you ask, trying to figure out if he’s playing a prank on you. 
“You’ll see,” he promises, the lines around his eyes growing more prominent with his suppressed smile. 
There’s a tissue paper wrapped box on your seat when you get into the rental car. “This better not be a ring,” you blurt out, trying not to hyperventilate. It’s not that you don’t know at this point that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. But your younger brother just got engaged, and you know your future sister-in-law would feel overshadowed if you took that step just now.
Before he drives away from the curb, Jake gently cups your chin and runs his thumb over your bottom lip to calm you down. “Sweetheart, I’ll wait as long as you want me to pop the question.” One of his mischievous smiles flip flops your heart, and you close your eyes as he kisses the scowl of concern from between your eyebrows. “Personally, I think this is better than a ring though.” 
That statement warns you what’s to come, but you’re still not prepared when you lift a t-shirt from the box. 
“If lost, return to Jake,” you read. You mouth the words, trying to put together what it means until you realize it’s the same color as the shirt he’s wearing. 
You feel the blood drain from your face. “No.”
“No what?” he chuckles, taking his eyes from the road for a moment to check your expression. He laughs even harder at what must be a look of horror on your face. 
“I’m not wearing this, Jake. The people who wear these carry AARP cards and have those help I’ve fallen and can’t get up buttons. I’m not even old enough to have a geriatric pregnancy! And if lost? When do I get lost?” 
“When you drive with the gps on mute,” he answers a little too quickly. Your face lets him know he’s made a big mistake. He adds even faster, “But I’ll never make you unmute the GPS because this proud simp loves it when you need him.”
Flashing you his biggest, most you-know-you-love-me grin, he reaches across the console and takes your left hand. His thumb strokes the place on your finger where an engagement ring will one day rest before placing a quick, but lingering kiss there. “C’mon sweetheart,” he says quietly, but you can hear the sudden weight of emotion in his voice. “I promised to wait to ask you to marry me, so how else am I supposed to let you know that I’m never going anywhere before I leave?”
This man really knows how to wreck you. He’s in Texas to say goodbye to his parents before he deploys until March. After growing up with your dad’s deployments, you swore you wouldn’t fall in love with a Navy man, but Jake had other plans for you. “Wear it with me please?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you agree, too choked up to say more. You know from experience crying before a goodbye only makes it harder. There will be plenty of time later to let his gift catch your tears. 
You put on the shirt before you get to his parents’ house because you know it will make his family laugh and that’s what you want to remember later too, the laughter. 
Arm slung over your shoulder, in your paired “I’m Jake” and “If lost return to Jake” shirts, he takes you to his favorite ice cream shop. You both laugh at the judgmental looks the teens and even some people your age give you. His cousin, Danny, insists she’s too embarrassed to be seen with you two. 
You wear the shirt to see him off and again when he gets home. And as soon as you’ve flown into his arms and kissed every inch of his handsome face (you’ll save the rest of him for later), he sets you down so he can show you that he’s wearing his too. You notice his shirt is as faded as yours from going through the wash so many times.
Gathering up his seabag, he hooks an arm around your shoulders to hold you close as you walk to the car. “I’m thinking it’s about time we sealed this relationship with something a little more durable than cotton,” he says. “What do you think?”
“I’m tired of people asking me where’s Jake,” you agree. “So yes.”
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callsignhoney · 2 years
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the captain’s daughter ➤
pairing ➤ robert “bob” floyd x fem!mitchell!reader
genre ➤ fluff, allusions to smut
summary ➤ an unlikely candidate has you breaking your dad (and brother’s) “no pilots” policy
———
Your entrance to the Hard Deck was announced with a wave of cheers from the squadron of naval aviators tucked against the far wall. You laughed and gave a show of waving at them before scurrying over. You passed out hellos and high fives to them all before reaching your—in every way except by blood—brother.
“Hey, short stack,” Rooster greeted you when you gave him a side hug.
“Hey, beanpole,” you returned.
“What’s going on, Miss Mitchell?” Fanboy said.
“It’s a pleasure to see you as always,” Payback told you with a grin.
“God, don’t I know it.”
“Looking good, Y/N,” Hangman said, taking a step away from the pool game to greet you with his usual line.
“I’m sure you say that to all the pretty girls you meet,” you recited back at him.
“You know I only have eyes for you, baby.”
You laughed when he winked at you and shoved him back toward the pool table. “Piss off.”
This was the usual greeting you got from your father’s students. It all started back on that first day they all had landed on North Island and took to the Hard Deck to meet each other prior to training. You’d grown up on navy bases and eventually found your way to working a job near Top Gun, often putting you in the path of your father and brother on their numerous orders.
You’d been out with your dad that night when Hangman approached you. Maverick, your father, had quickly cut in and Hangman took to taking the piss out on him for the rest of the night, a decision he regretted almost immediately as he learned who your dad was the next day for training.
Once the trainees all got more comfortable with your dad, and got to know you in turn, the flirting from them all became a running joke to ruffle your dad’s feathers. No matter how well he knew that it was all a big joke to get him riled up, it still worked. Sometimes even Rooster butted in to draw a line, but you just found it hilarious and started giving your own flirty remarks back.
“How long is this going to go on for?” your dad asked, coming up behind you to pass out drinks to the crew. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, dad.”
“You know we’re just playing, Maverick,” Fanboy said.
“Do I know that, Fanboy? Do I?” your dad sighed.
“Mav, trust me, if any of them actually tried anything, I’d cut their dick off before you even heard about it,” Rooster spoke up.
Several of the men winced at that. Fanboy took a long drink from his cup.
“What if I want a shot with Miss Mitchell, here?” Phoenix spoke up, sending you an award winning smile.
“You may be the one I approve of the most, but it still is not going to happen,” Maverick said. “No Navy fighter pilots. It’s my one dating rule I’ve ever given Y/N.”
“Who do you approve of the least?” Phoenix asked.
“Hangman, obviously,” Rooster answered for him.
Maverick gave a small look of agreement but said nothing.
The table laughed.
You found a seat beside Fanboy. To your other side, Bob. Your heart beat a little faster as you sent him a small smile. He and Phoenix had been deployed on a mission that had them away for a few weeks. Their safe arrival back home was the reason you all were out drinking tonight.
The night went on and the flirting only reared its head a sparse few times. No one noticed how your and Bob’s hands were intertwined under the table, or how his grip tightened anytime one of the others made a flirtatious comment toward you.
———
“I can tell them to stop, you know,” you told Bob later, tucked against each other in the afterglow.
He tilted his head to look up at you, resting on your chest. You ran a hand through his hair and he closed his eyes, almost purring with the small, blissful sound he made.
“I can tell them to stop the flirting and the jokes if it bothers you,” you said. “Tell them I’m getting tired of it, or whatever.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said.
You gave him a look.
“I’m serious,” he laughed.
“Right. And that wasn’t jealous sex.”
“That was I haven’t seen you in three weeks because of a mission and I missed you very very much sex.”
“Hm.”
“I’m serious!”
“You’d tell me if it bothered you, right?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I promise.”
He kissed your collarbone to assure you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and fell into quiet again, holding each other as you settled down from the high you’d given one another. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp. He smoothed his palms over your body, tracing small shapes into your skin.
You didn’t think you could ever need anything more than this. You wished you could freeze this moment and stay in it forever.
You drifted off to sleep and woke up still tangled together. It felt like you were unable to get enough of him on a normal day when he came home to you every night; he’d been away for three weeks and you felt insatiable, not even able to whine about missing him to anyone lest your dad or brother found out about you two.
If you had to guess, you’d say Bob felt the same way based on how he rolled on top of you the moment he woke up. The kiss was slow and messy and left you panting, desperate for more. You could do little more than steady your breathing as he disappeared under the blankets and wrapped his strong arms around your thighs to keep you in place.
Your head had just started to cloud over when you were abruptly snapped out of your lust-filled haze.
“Y/N! Ever heard of checking your phone?”
You inhaled sharply. “Bradley.”
You grabbed Bob’s shoulders and wrenched him out from under the covers.
“What? Are you okay?” he asked.
You slapped a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “My brother’s here.”
Bob’s eyes widened and he repeated back what you said into the muffle of your hand.
“Y/N? Hello?” Rooster called.
You and Bob stared at each other as you tried to come up with what to do or something to say. Eventually, you managed out, “Hang on, I’m getting dressed!” and practically shoved Bob out of bed, both of you scrambling to find clothes to put on.
“Mav and I texted you last night about breakfast today. Are you coming?”
“Uh, sure!” you said, hopping around to pull your pants on.
“Did you not see our texts? In the group chat.”
You chucked Bob’s shirt at him. “No, I didn’t.”
“Did you pass out after getting home last night? Couldn’t bother checking your phone?”
You glanced at Bob, flushing as you remembered last night. “Something like that.”
Bob turned to look at you helplessly, fully dressed despite his shirt being on backwards. You scanned the room then zeroed in on the windows.
“We are going to tell them about us eventually, right?” Bob asked in a whisper as you pushed him across the room.
“Yes, eventually,” you said, wrenching the window open.
“Why not just tell him now?”
You looked at him like he was insane. “This is not the introduction you want to have with my brother as my boyfriend. Eventually, yes, we’ll tell him and my dad but not like this, and not right now.”
You started hitting him to get him to climb out the window. “Okay, okay!”
You reminded yourself not get distracted by the way his muscles moved in his arms as he maneuvered himself out the window. You glanced back at the door to your bedroom but it had remained safely shut during the whole endeavor.
“Rooster won’t actually cut my dick off when we tell him we’re dating, right?” Bob asked, hanging onto the windowsill.
You blinked at him. “I’ll see you later.”
“Y/N—“
You leaned down to kiss him. “Go, or I close the window on your fingers.”
“Alright.” He pulled himself enough to kiss you once more. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
He dropped down from your window and you shut it quickly after him.
———
BONUS!
“Hey, Bob!” Hangman called out. “I’ve got a question for ya.”
Bob had his hands busy in the underbelly of one of the jets he and a few others were working on. Neck craned to see what he was doing, he looked around one of his extended arms to spot Hangman coming over to him. Phoenix trailed after him, looking mildly irritated by his existence as usual.
“Uh, yeah?” Bob said, keeping his hand aloft in the jet he was working on.
“Who gave you the hickey?”
Something clunked inside the plane as Bob lost hold of it. “W—what?”
Hangman gestured to Bob’s neck where a bruise was on full display. “That little thing. Where’d you get it?”
“I—I didn’t— it’s nothing.”
Bob’s hands were still caught up and busy when Hangman spotted something else incriminating. He tugged the neck of Bob’s shirt down just enough to reveal the bruise that had blossomed on his collarbone.
“Hey!” Bob protested, shouldering Hangman’s hand away as best he could.
“That seems like a little more than nothing,” Hangman said with a shit-eating grin.
“Leave him alone,” Phoenix spoke up, elbowing Hangman back to put herself between him and her WSO.
“What? You can’t tell me you’re not curious, too.”
“Yeah, but I’m not gonna harass him about it.”
“Who was it, Bob? I mean, the only girls you ever talk to are Phoenix, Halo, and Y/N.”
Maybe he was reading too far into it, or maybe the way Bob swallowed at the sound of your name and glanced around the hangar wasn’t just a coincidence.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Hangman said slowly. “Would you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bob said, too quickly.
“Holy shit,” Hangman said, “you’re fucking Mav’s daughter.”
“I’m not,” Bob argued, trying to force out a laugh.
“You actually are,” Hangman said, and he sounded almost genuinely impressed. “You’re fucking the captain’s daughter.”
“Okay, no,” Bob argued, finally getting his hands free from the jet. “I’m not… seeing Y/N. I’m not. I don’t know where you got that from, but we are just friends. Hardly that. Acquaintances, really.”
“I’m starting to think you might be right, Hangman,” Phoenix said.
Hangman looked at her in shock.
“Don’t get used to hearing that.”
“You’re siding with him?” Bob said incredulously. “Because I… hit myself in the neck. With a book. Hard.”
“You talk too much when you’re trying to lie,” Phoenix told him. “It’s your tell.”
“I am not dating Y/N, okay?” Bob said, forcing out laughter that just sounded pained.
“Tell Y/N to film it when you two finally decide to tell Rooster and Mav,” Hangman said. “I would pay to see their reactions. And what they do to you afterward.”
Sure of himself, Hangman gave a laugh and walked away. Phoenix hung back for a moment and patted her back seater on the arm.
“Good for you, Floyd,” she said. “Just try to keep your dick attached to the rest of you.”
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roosterforme · 4 months
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roosterforme's Bradley Bradshaw one-shots masterlist (Rooster x Reader)
roosterforme masterlist
Rooster x Reader one-shot fics:
A Nice, Big Rooster Rooster is surprised to run into you on North Island. He's not, however, surprised to find that he still wants you as much as always.
I Still Want You Bradley had been an idiot when it came to you. He still wanted you, but did you still want him?
I Like Your Voice You and Bradley recognize each other by your voices.
Benefits Bradley spends a long weekend in Mexico, enjoying the beach and your body.
I'll Take You There Bradley's best friend is moving to San Diego, and she asks him for a little help.
Why Do They Call You Rooster? When another girl asks Rooster how he got his call sign, you make sure she knows how big he is and who he's with.
Go Slow When you tell Bradley why you're nervous, he makes sure to go slow.
Couches, Floors and Beds You had reached your boiling point with your roommate, Bradley Bradshaw. 
Frustrated Rooster is kind enough to help Hangman's ex-girlfriend when she's feeling frustrated. 
Stay on Your Knees When Bradley messes up again, he’s more than willing to beg.
Hot For Teacher  You knew it was against policy. You wouldn’t bend the rules for anyone else. But when it came to Rooster Bradshaw, you threw all caution to the wind.
Red Flags, Green Flags Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 
Can I Have My Shirt Back? You didn't usually invite guys home with you after a night out, but this one was always going to be an exception. 
You Deserve an Overachiever Bradley is forced to come to terms with the fact that he wants to replace your boyfriend with himself and give you proper orgasms. 
Want You Bad When Bradley realizes his girlfriend isn’t as innocent as he thought, at first he’s surprised, then he’s on board.
All I Want For Christmas Is You Bradley returns from deployment just before Christmas and immediately falls for the new bartender at the Hard Deck. 
Good Boy Bradley is more than happy to give up his dominant ways whenever you demand it from him. 
Take Two When Bradley got you pregnant, he blew his chance at a relationship with you. He loves his daughter, but he never stopped loving you too.
Champagne Lips You and Bradley both try to claim the last bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve.
I Would Never Hurt You Bradley saw the bruises and knew what was going on, but he also knew you didn't need him the way he needed you.
Hello, I Love You When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.
Do You Wish It Was Me? When Bradley returns from deployment and finds you engaged to Harvard, he knows he needs to get you back. 
The Purrfect Storm Bradley inadvertently becomes a pet owner after he hits a stray with his Bronco. When he meets a lovely vet tech who is willing to help, both Bradley and the cat fall for her instantly.
Make It Messy, Baby Anytime Bradley has a rough day, his perfect wife is there to make it all better. Sometimes that means getting a little messy.
Daddy Would Say Yes After you manage to embarrass yourself in front of Rooster, he still makes it clear he wants you to ask him out.
Cockpit Love When you jokingly told Bradley that you would be jealous of him spending so much time with his Super Hornet, he decided it was time to let you stake your claim on him in the cockpit.
Something to Talk About Bradley knew the rumors were circulating. He knew his friends were talking. But he had known you for such a long time, and you were just friends. Because if something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. Right?
When Tomorrow Comes Four months is a long time to go without Bradley. When you tease him a little bit the night before his deployment starts, he reminds you that he's always worth the wait.
You Want Me Anyway Bradley wasn't your boyfriend. He didn't owe you anything. But after months of hooking up, you expected more from him than what you were getting. It was time for you to move on. But Bradley has other ideas.
Earning His Rank Bradley knew you wanted to make his promotion night special for him as he got his new pin. He could tell by the teasing way you asked "What are you going to do to me when we get home, Lieutenant Commander?" He had something in mind.
Midnight Confessions It's getting harder and harder for Bradley to hide his feelings for you, especially when you offer to drive him home on his birthday. Before he knows it, he's drunk in your passenger seat, confessing everything he's kept to himself. He may not remember all of it in the morning, but you certainly do. 
How Could I Forget? When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.
So Fresh, So Clean At first, Bradley is mortified when the guys force him to stop at a carwash featuring bikini clad women from a college softball team. But when he meets you there, he starts to think he should thank his friends instead.
Feelings Involved After months of dancing around your feelings, you're about to leave San Diego and Bradley behind. But on your last night in California, you realize you're not the only one with your heart on the line.
Sufficiently Surprised Bradley loves dirty quickies with his wife. Between his work schedule and yours, that's often all there's time for. But when he rushes home from work on his birthday, ready and raring to go, he's in for a bit of a surprise.
Don't You Want Me, Baby It was like a fairytale, the way you stole Bradley's heart with your gorgeous face, retro denim jacket, and karaoke skills. But when you disappear into the night, leaving only one small trinket behind, he's left wondering if he didn't just dream you up.
Do You Wanna Touch Me? You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.
On My Terms Bradley didn't seem to notice how broken you were inside. When he looked at you, there was never any hesitation in his eyes. He was the first man in a long time that you wanted to trust with every part of you. If only your body and mind would start working together. If only you could get the words out.
Wrong Number Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.
Don't Waste Another Minute When you finally recognize that you have been hanging onto your relationship for all the wrong reasons, you end things. You knew there would be someone better for you, and it was a welcome realization to see that he had been right there in front of you the whole time. 
Stateside Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.
Deployment Sucks but I Swallow Bradley was used to having your undivided attention when he was about to leave for a long deployment, because you'd been spoiling him that way for years. When you spent the day with your friends and got home late instead, he wanted to be annoyed, but everything you do is just too sweet. 
Whole Lotta Love Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.
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pinkdaisies9285 · 2 months
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Flyboy and the Florist-1
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Bob Floyd x F!Reader
Warnings: None, Fluff
Word Count: 466
Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!
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It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head. 
“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made. 
“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.” 
All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.
“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.
“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.
“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks. 
“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.” 
Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it. 
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valhallaas · 1 year
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That’s My Girl
pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x sunshine!reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni) vaginal fingering, p in v, cream pie (wrap it up, pals) jake stirring the pot like the shithead he is
summary: when everyone but rooster sees it, there’s always a texan willing to step up to the plate. 
a/n: not me cackling while writing this like some crazed woman. ya’ll can blame @glen-powells​​ for this. the text messages can prove it. 
Part 2
Part 3
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It surprises you every time you come back to the Hard Deck how it hasn’t changed. At least the atmosphere. Civilians and aviators alike. Penny grins at you when you walk in. Elbowing your way through the crowd, you take a seat at the bar, leaning far enough over to let her kiss you on the cheek. Her and your mom had been best friends. Penny’s known you since you were in diapers, helped your mom through the divorce, and helped you when she passed away. You always did your best to come visit her when you could. You’re on leave for the next two months and you aren’t wasting it anywhere else but here.
“Long time no see.” Penny says as she grabs you a drink.
You only grin. “You’ll be seeing so much of me, you’ll be sick of me.”
“Is free labor included in that?”
“Always.” A two toned whistle catches your attention. Turning to look behind you, you sigh at the sight. Holy shit. They’re all here. Your eyes narrow at the blonde, his grin widening when he catches you staring. “Maybe not tonight, Pen.”
Penny shakes her head. “I didn’t think so. Go on, then.”
Throwing her a grateful smile, you’re up and heading towards the pool table. It’s a reunion, no doubt. You’d been overseas the last few months. Seeing everyone here is a blessing. You can’t help the splitting grin on your face when Bob wraps you up right in his arms. How the two of you hit it off, you’ll never know, but you aren’t complaining.
“Look who it is, folks. Our Sunny girl. Did ya’ll see it get brighter in here when she walked in?”
Your eyes roll so far into the back of your head you’re surprised they don’t get stuck. Turning, you come face to face with the blonde who’d called for your attention.
“Hangman,”
He pulls the toothpick out of his mouth and winks. “Sunshine.”
“What’s got y’all here?”
“You.” Phoenix answers, standing from where she knocked two solids in at the pool table.
You turn to look back at the bar. Penny’s already looking at you with a smirk. What a little sneak. You should’ve known she let you go too easily. Shaking your head you step forward and snag the pool stick from Hangman. He smirks, but doesn’t say anything. You quirk an eyebrow. Lieutenant Jake Seresin keeping his mouth shut? It’s a goddamn miracle. His eyes never leave you as the game finishes. Phoenix grumbles at her loss, you were three shots behind when you started. It’s not your fault that you’re good, that you’re very good. Handing the stick off to Bob, your eyes scan the bar. It’s been almost thirty minutes since you got here. It’s a Saturday night and the bar is busy.
No Hawaiian shirt in sight. No porn mustache spotted anywhere. Your shoulders deflate. If everyone else is here, why isn’t he?
“Who you looking for, Sunshine?”
You glance sideways. “Wouldn’t like to know.”
Jake only grins. “Your bird boy ain’t here yet. Had a meeting with Maverick, I believe.”
Fucking Christ. Are you really that hopeless when it comes to him? So exposed that even Bagman can tell that your head over heels for Rooster? It’s not like it’s your fault. If you had it your way, you’d be happy with your own company. But the heart wants what the heart wants.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do. Because as much as you pine for him, Bradshaw is a dumbass.”
“What do you mean?”
“He hasn’t noticed, Sunny. You’re still that kid from down the road. You need to do something to make him see you.”
The thought has crossed your mind. You’ve known Bradley so long that he probably didn’t think of you that way. Your teeth bite into your cheek, hands fiddling with the hem of your dress. You don’t miss the way Hangman’s eyes take you in. His gaze lingering on your bare thighs. You huff out a small laugh, pulling his attention back to your face.
You and Jake have a weird relationship. He annoys you to no end but you trust him with your life. Pretty sure you’re the only one in the bar that does. Jake’s been protective of you since you met at Top Gun. A relationship without the relationship, you suppose.
“Can always stir the pot,”
You blink. “What?”
“Make him jealous, Sunny.” A snort escapes you and you slap a hand over your mouth. Jake’s smile is wide, his head falling back with a deep chuckle. “Oh, Sunny girl.”
“I have no one to make him jealous. Even if I did, that’s a stupid idea. What am I, in eighth grade?”
“Honey, look at who you’re talking to.”
Green eyes devour you when you look up at him. He is right. No one gets under Rooster’s skin more than Hangman. You bite your lip, unsure. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But there’s a fire in Hangman’s eyes, like he’s got a point to prove. Playing with the hem of your dress, you scrape the toe of your shoe against the floor. Fuck it, really, what do you have to lose?
“What are we going to do, exactly?”
Jake raises his hand, cupping the side of your face. His thumb lightly drags over your bottom lip before pulling it down. He pulls it away and looks down at the faintly smeared mauve color now on the pad. He lifts it up to his mouth and rubs it in.
“What are you doing?”
His lips tilt into a knowing smirk. “Teasin’.”
He’s going to get you in trouble. Lifting a hand to your own mouth, it’s smacked lightly. Sharp eyes glare at him.
“Go pick out a song. Let’s dance.”
“Dance?”
“Yeah, Sunshine, dance. Now go, and pick out a good one.”
You roll your eyes but do as you're told. Eyes follow you the whole way to the jukebox. You lean over, just a bit, the bottom of your dress rising up to tease. Was that why you wore it? Maybe. You wouldn’t tell. Flipping through the songs, you pause a few pages back, a knowing smile taking over your face. Putting the money in, you twirl back to face Jake. When the song starts playing he laughs.
“Honey, you are playing dirty.”
“You started it.”
“Well, you do have your boots on.” He says toeing your Ariats.
“Come on, Texas. Show me how to boogie.”
“You are asking for trouble.”
An eyebrow raises. “Pot, meet kettle.”
Jake doesn’t say anything else. His hand grabs for yours, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly to him. You can’t help but gasp when his thigh slots between yours. Tightening your grip on his shoulder, he twirls you both out and makes room to have a dance floor. The other patrons cheer while watching. A few cat calls thrown your way. A carefree laugh makes its way from you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this way. It’s silly, really. To think that teasing a grown ass man made you feel this way.
“Just a heads up, Sunny girl, Bradshaw’s been watching since you went to pick out the song.” Your heart drops. What now? You go to turn your head, to try to find him, anything, really, but are stopped short. Jake slides his hand into your hair keeping you still. “Stop. You’re going to ruin it. I can see his fucking vein bulging from here.”
This is a good thing, right? This is what you wanted? His attention? Jake knows what he’s doing. He’s never led you astray before. Hopefully he won't start now. Jake lets you go, hanging you out with one hand before twirling you around. You’re facing away from him now, and you come face to face with Rooster. You inhale sharply, the smell of him overwhelming you.
“What’s going on here?” He asks, no preamble.
“We’re dancing, I know you have eyes, Bradshaw.”
Bradley looks from Hangman down at you. Head to toe his eyes blaze over you. A fire touching your skin. Licking at the top of your exposed breasts and down your thighs. You can see his lips twitch. The man knows you. His hand reaches out, pinches the fabric of the dress, rolling it between his fingers. It’s his favorite color, and by the look in his eyes you know he knows you wore it just for him.
“Hey Sunshine.”
“Hi Rooster.”
“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?”
You frown. Opening your mouth to talk, you’re promptly cut off. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Rooster shrugs. You follow after him to the table where all your friends are. Most of them try their hardest to look as if they aren’t watching this scene play out like a movie. You jump up to sit on the table, grabbing your drink and taking a sip. You hand Hangman his beer, his glare still on the man beside you. Neither of them say anything for a long time. They just stare, having a silent conversation that you don’t know how to decipher.
“Didn’t know you had a thing for Bagman, Sunshine.” Rooster finally says.
You snort, ignoring Jake’s smirk. “He wishes.”
“That why your lipstick is on his mouth?”
“Who’s mouth should it be on? Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” Jesus Christ, he’s trying to get you into fucking trouble. Widened eyes look at Jake, his face more stoic than you’ve ever seen it.
“What does that mean?”
Hangman huffs, taking a pull from his beer. “All I’m saying Bradshaw, is that you’ve got a hell of a woman hanging off every word you say. Waiting on you to finally do something. So, you better fuck her before I do.”
Did he know you could hear him? You’re sitting like two feet away. Neither of the men back were backing down and it’s making your anxiety spike. They’ve always been at each other's throats. You’re not sure when their little feud became about you.
“Did she say that?”
“Say what?”
“Did Sunshine say that she wanted you to fuck her?”
There was no hiding the smugness in Bradley’s tone. Hook, line, and sinker. A muscle twitches in Jake’s jaw from how hard he’s clenching his teeth. Suddenly, he glances over at you and you know you must look like a deer caught in headlights. He sighs but it doesn’t sound like one of defeat. More like he’s losing his patience.
He steps towards you, thumb trailing over your bottom lip. “If it doesn't work out with him, Sunny. You know where to find me.”
Hangman turns without looking at either of you again and makes for the jukebox. Your lips quirk up when you recognize the song.
***
The sound of the door closing is your only warning. Hazel eyes meet yours in the mirror as you roll your neck. Your body relaxes when you feel him press up against your back. He’s so warm it sends chills running down your spine. The bathroom isn’t all that big. Bradley stands behind you, invading your space and swallowing it whole. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. It’s easy to see that Hangman’s words have gotten under your skin. Your heart thunders in your chest at what’s going to happen next. A small prayer is sent off that Penny never finds out.
“You look good, flower.”
You smile at the nickname. “Thanks. It’s always fun when you can dress up in civvy clothes.”
He huffs. “The dress is really something,”
You grin at him through the mirror and you see Adam’s apple bob, hazel eyes fixated on your lips. You swallow, your throat thick. Tearing your gaze from his, you smooth your hands down the soft material, fingers playing with the hem of it. You took a chance with it, and you’re grateful it’s working out in your favor.
The tension is thick and heady. It clings to your skin, his callouses catch on your skin, gluing themselves to you. The music from the jukebox beats against the bathroom door, it’s the only thing accompanied by your heavy breathing. Your eyes shut when his hand pulls your hair to rest over one shoulder. A light yank of your hair has them snapping open. You meet his eyes in the mirror. One eyebrow quirks up at you. With a shaky breath you nod. Bradley leans in, lips lightly brushing against the expanse of your neck. His gaze rests on the soft spot right next to where it connects to your shoulder. You tilt your neck not only to give him more access, but permission too. Your lips tilt at the groan he lets out before his lips are on you.
Slowly his hands pull your sleeves down your arms. Goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. It makes you feel a little vulnerable. But then Bradley pushes himself even closer. He’s got his Hawaiian shirt on, jeans, and his boots. You can feel him breathing, his chest warming your back. It’s when he pushes his hips against you—you can feel him. All of him. A whimper escapes you and you see him grin in the mirror.
A hand trails down your side while the other moves to your chest. Your head falls back when a nipple is taken between his calloused fingers. You’ve only dreamt of what his hands would feel like. Your imagination didn’t do him justice. The heat coming from him is intoxicating. You’ve been so caught up in him that you haven’t realized a hand has been slipping down, down down. Fingers toiling with your dress, pushing the skirt up slowly. A hum rumbles from him when his fingers finally find your core, slipping between your folds. You’re completely soaked. You’ve been this way since he appeared right in front of you. Your breath locks in your throat when he slips a digit in.
“Christ,” he mutters, voice thick like honey. “No panties, flower?”
You whine, you can’t help it. You push your hips back into him, arching your back. His voice, the accusation in his tone. You knew what you were doing when you left your house. Maybe he’d come home with you, fucking you good and proper in your bed. Not pressed up against the sink of the Hard Deck. Bradley pulls his finger out only to push it back in with another. He does this, warming up your body, until you’re moaning, your own hand wrapped around his wrist and guiding him. You can’t stop your hips from grounding down on his hand. Desire has taken over. Bradley has left your nipple, hand now wrapped around your throat, holding you hostage to watch yourself in the mirror. He grunts when you clench around his fingers. You’re close, so close.
“Bradley,” you whine, fingers digging into his arm.
“I know, flower. You want it real bad, don’t you? Let me feel it. Let me feel you gush all over my hand sweet girl. Would you like that?”
You’re going to come off his words alone. A moan falling from your lips as the pressure tightens. It’s only moments later when the band snaps, hot liquid flooding throughout your body. Your head falls back against his chest, another moan filling the small space.
“That’s it, that’s my girl.”
You can feel him moving behind you. The distinct clinking of his belt being undone. Your whole body grows hotter in anticipation. Searing heat hits you, a hand stroking himself while the other is spreading you open. Heat pulses between your legs. There’s no doubt that he’ll split you wide open. After what you just pulled with Jake, you’d be surprised if he was forgiving at all. It’s a little fucked up, but it warms your belly all the same. Lifting your head, you gasp when his eyes meet yours. Bradley’s pupils are blown, lust and primal desire have taken over. His lips pink and full, he bends down and kisses right between your shoulder blades. Traveling up your spine, over your shoulder, he digs his teeth in where it meets your neck. You don’t miss his smirk when you moan.
He slides a hand across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. A hand clamps down around your mouth, muffling the scream trying to break free. He’s big, so fucking big. He’s filling you up like never before. It hurts, a pain that you will never get enough of. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, lazy thrust. Bradley slides a hand along your spine, up the back of your neck and into your hair, your breath catches as he pulls your head up and you’re meeting his gaze in the mirror. He’s watching you come undone around him. Each stroke pulling more and more pleasure. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers.
“Flower,” he grits, hand tightening in your hair, “you feel so fucking good.”
You stare back at him, feet spreading wider to let as much of him in as you can. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. Little secrets that litter your skin. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is pressed against the mirror just to keep you balanced. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Neither of you are too worried about the sounds escaping you now.
“Bradley, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that spongy spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it approaching, your orgasm is going to come crashing down and you’re ready to bask in it. Your face lifts up, like a sunflower searching for the sun.
“Flower? Are you going to come for me again? Are you going to let me feel you come around my cock?”
“Yes! Yes, I–Rooster, fuck,”
You come on his cock like a tidal wave, and when you collapse against the counter, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Bradley groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you.
“Good girl,” he praises, wiping the sweat off the back of your neck. “Good fuckin’ girl. That’s my good girl.”
The jukebox is still blaring when you exit the bathroom. Slowly you make your way back to where your friends are. Ignoring all of their knowing stares you reach for your drink and down it. When Bradley finally makes his appearance beside you, a possessive arm thrown over your shoulders and a quick kiss to the crown of your head. Hangman’s watching the both of you, a knowing look in his eye.
“So, Bradshaw, how was she?”
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1K notes · View notes
eternalsams · 6 months
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Story Of My Life ⇴ J.Seresin
pairing: Jake Seresin x gf!reader
content/warnings: implied sex, fear of abandonment, unexpected pregnancy, angst, mention of breakup, discussion of abortion (I won't tolerate any hate messages about it), mention of a parent's death
summary: Jake panics when you start pulling away from him and he feels like he's destined to end up alone.
words count: 2.3k
notes: English isn't my mother tongue so please take that into consideration.
masterlist
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"Honey, I'm home!" Jake called as he passed the front door with a smirk stretching his lips. But only the silence answered him in the apartment. To your defense, he was home early and he didn't text you or call you to tell you. He wanted to surprise you. The smile on his lips fell and he slightly frowned as he dropped his duffle bag at the foot of the coat rack. He opened his flight suit he still had on and step out of his shoes as he did everyday. But usually you would greet him with a kiss and little talks. He'd seen your car in the parking lot so he knew you were home. Maybe you were in the shower? His usual cocky smirk reappeared on his face as he imagined surprising you by joining you behind the shower curtains. Now, that would be a greeting! "Baby?" He called again as he awkwardly rid himself of his flight suit and his socks, only staying in his briefs and his sweat-wet shirt. The fresh air of the AC bringing goosebumps to his exposed skin, he got closer to your shared bedroom but stopped in his tracks when he met the closed door. You never closed the bedroom door.
He was about to open it when he heard your voice, you were probably on the phone. "I can't keep doing this anymore, I need to tell him. And the sooner the better." Jake tried not to think too hard on what you said but your words couldn't leave his mind, trying to find an explanation and a context to what you were saying. So he just decided to knock and wait for you to invite him in. Your voice shut down and for a second, Jake could only hear the beating of his heart. "Baby? You in here?" He softly asked, knowing you were there. He could hear you hanging up the phone and walk around the room. "Yeah, I'm here! Sorry I didn't hear you coming home, I was on the phone." You quickly said, running around the room to hide everything before Jake could see it. "Can I come in?" You heard his voice and saw the doorknob going down. You rapidly kicked the last thing under your bed just in time as Jake opened the door and his face appeared in the opening. You chuckled when you saw his hand hiding his eyes. "I'm decent, Jake." You laughed and opened completely the door to wrap your arms around him and peck his lips. You frowned when you saw how undressed he was and pointed at his boxer briefs. "I thought you were in the shower and wanted to surprise you." He slightly winced, noticing how weird it seemed now. You chuckled once more and slid your hands under the hem of his shirt, your fingers gently grazing his skin.
"What was that?" He then asked, his hands secured behind your neck and tilting your face back to maintain an eye contact. "What was what?" You frowned, hoping he didn't notice what you just hid under your shared bed. "The closed door. We never close doors in this house and you know it." He teased with a smirk as he rubbed small circles under your ears with his thumbs. "I know, sorry. My mom is having some relationship issues with her boyfriend and she asked me some advice." You couldn't believe how such a good lie came out of your mouth that quickly, but you wouldn't take it back now. "Of course, she'd need your advice, you're the best girlfriend in the world." He smiled at you, hoping that those words would help with whatever he heard sooner. He couldn't help but think that you hid something from him and from what he heard, it wasn't good. So he hoped that he could keep you in love with him with sweet praises. "You're such a flirt!" You chuckled and pulled away before grabbing a pair of sweats in the closet and throwing it to Jake. "Get dressed, I'm gonna order take out and go shower. I don't think that poor delivery guy wants to see your junk." He tried to hide a smile as he put on the sweats and watched you tap on your phone to order your favorite food. "Can't I join you in the shower?" He asked, getting closer to you but you put your hand on his chest without even looking up at him. "We both know we'll never get out of it before the delivery guy gets here. So, no." He watched you walk in the bathroom and close the door behind you without giving him a single glance. He sighed and threw his head back before joining the kitchen and grabbing a drink to move on from your cold behavior.
Anybody with common sense would not notice the difference and would even call Jake needy and capricious. But he knew you by heart and he knew something was off tonight. You closed the door, when he asked what the phone call was about, you lied. He didn't want to ask you more about it if you didn't want to talk about it but he knew you lied. It wasn't about your mom and her relationship issues. It was about you and him. And then you only pecked his lips instead of dragging him into the shower with you as you would usually do. You wouldn't care if the delivery man knocks at the door and Jake would have to go answer half naked. But tonight, you minded. No. You didn't mind. You just didn't want Jake with you. I can't keep doing this anymore. What if you couldn't stay with him anymore? Jake rubbed his face to clear his mind and poured himself another drink he sipped in one go. He then thought about the ring he kept in his locker, only waiting to find your finger. Would he have to return it? Jake cleared his throat and licked his lips before rinsing his glass and putting back the scotch bottle in the cabinet. He then heard knocks at the door and frowned. How long has he been deep in his thoughts? He went to answer the door and thanked the delivery guy, not without giving him some tip. He put the bag on the kitchen island and as he was about to take out the food, he heard a loud thud coming from the bathroom.
He immediately forgot about the food and rushed to the bedroom. "Baby? You're okay? What happened?" He asked, his ear resting on the door, trying to hear anything through the wood. When you didn't answer, he tried to open the door but it was locked. He frowned. You never locked the bathroom door. He knocked at the door, trying to get an answer from you. "Baby, please answer me. Just tell me you're okay in there." He tried to open the door once again but it was still locked. "I'm okay." He could hear the weakness in your voice and it reminded him of the time he caught you crying in the bathroom after your father's funeral. You were definitely crying. "No, you're not okay. Please let me in, and we'll talk." He begged, feeling like he had to save this relationship as soon as possible. Were you crying because you didn't love him anymore? Because it was too hard to live with him? He kept his hand on the door handle, ready to push it open when you would unlock it. But you didn't. "I'm fine, Jake. I promise. Just..just go back to the kitchen, I'll join you when I'm done." He shook his head as if you could see him. "I'm not leaving you like this. I know you're crying and..." And what? He didn't even know why you were crying. "Please let me in, baby. We'll talk and we'll be okay. I promise you, whatever it is. I'll do whatever you want if it means you'll be happy. I..I love you, I'm not... I'm not trying to hold you down, I promise. If you need space, I'll give you space." He stopped talking when he heard the door getting unlocked. You then opened it and there you were.
Jake softly smiled because even with your red puffy eyes and your wet cheeks, you were still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. "You're not holding me down, Jake." You simply said, frowning. "Please don't close any more doors, I can't handle it. I don't want you to cry on the bathroom floor. If you need to cry, I want you to come to me and tell me everything I do wrong so I can make it better. Please don't lock me out." He looked at you as if you could disappear at any second. He reached out a hand to you and you took it before throwing yourself in his arms and crying some more. It broke his heart to hear your sobs but he said nothing more, only rubbing the back of your head and planting kisses in your hair. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me the truth this time, your mom's boyfriend is not the one making you cry and I know it." He tried to joke and it earned him a chuckle, warming up his breaking heart. You pulled away and he kept his arms around you, not wanting you to get too far from him. "I'm pregnant." You said, looking at him straight in the eyes. Jake almost stopped breathing, staring at you in shock. He really didn't expect that. "I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean it to happen. You have to believe me, and I was so scared to tell you. We've only been dating for 10 months and we just moved in together. I know it's really not a good time right now and I don't have anything against abortion if that's what you want."
"You're pregnant?" He asked in a weak voice, your words only hitting him now. You nervously chuckled and grabbed his hands before walking to your bed. "I am. I went to the hospital a few days ago and I just received the results this morning." You bent down and grabbed the folded sheet of paper from under your bed before giving it to him. He took it in his hand but didn't look at it, his eyes still locked into yours. He didn't need some papers from the hospital to confirm anything, he trusted you. "You're pregnant with my child. How far along?" He asked you. "Seven weeks." You shrugged and Jake tried to remember how could that have happened. Then it hit him. "The barbeque at Penny's." He closed his eyes, remembering how needy you both were after spending the whole evening teasing each other at the pool. "I guess it was too much for the pill to stop it from happening." You chuckled, hoping to get a good reaction from Jake. He laughed and dropped the sheet of paper as he brought his hands up to his face. A soft smile stretched your lips, a sense of relief washing over you hearing his laughter. "You're not mad at me?" You sighed, drawing his attention on you. He calmed his laughter and looked at you, seeming to look for his next words. "Why would I be mad at you exactly? For getting pregnant accidently? May I recall you I was there too that night! I was the one who came-" You didn't let him finish his sentence as you slapped your hand on his mouth, preventing him to say more.
"I was scared you'd be mad I didn't tell you sooner. We're in a relationship, I should've told you the exact day I woke up to throw up or when I peed on that stick to see those two pink lines. I'm sorry I kept it from you that long." You admitted, trying to forget how nervous and anxious you were that day. "When was that?" He asked calmly, taking you by the shoulders. "Two weeks ago. After I took the first test, I bought three more but I still couldn't believe it so I went to the hospital to get my blood tested. And here we are. They told me I still had six weeks to decide if I want to keep it. But I couldn't make a choice without telling you and-" You started rambling, your voice getting higher and your mouth vomiting the words. "And you were scared to tell me. I get it." He rubbed your shoulders to comfort you and you took a deep breath, relaxing and closing your eyes. "Do you want to have that baby?" He asked softly after a moment, making you look at him. "Do you?" You asked back. "It's not about me, Honey. Your body, your choice. Whatever you decide I won't leave you, even if you think we're moving too fast. I'm not leaving you." He enunciated those last words slowly for them to sink in. You looked at him deeply and looked down at your holding hands. "I wanna have that baby with you." You looked back up at him and smiled softly. A grin stretched his lips and illuminated his face. "We're having a baby?" He asked excitedly. "We're having a baby!" You answered with the same excitement. He grabbed you by the shoulders and drew you in for a hug. "I was so scared you were gonna break up with me." He sighed in your neck. "What?" You barely heard him but what you understood made no sense to you. "Nothing. I love you." He closed his eyes and breathed in your perfume, feeling home.
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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months
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Beer Never Broke My Heart - Jake Seresin x Reader
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A/N: another country music inspired TGM oneshot because why not. Beer Never Broke My Heart by Luke Combs is a fave and it's been stuck in my head all day so, here we go.
Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader
warnings/content: fluff, a little angst if you squint I guess? Bob and Bradley playing cupid. Jake's a commitment-phobe.
word count: 2.8k
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The stories about Jake Seresin’s Fourth of July parties were the thing of legends. At least, that’s what your childhood best friend, Bob Floyd told you. Growing up together in the quaint corners of Kentucky, your friendship persisted even after Bob enlisted in the Navy, bridging the geographical gaps that separated you. Upon encountering Jake, Bob wasted no time in regaling you with tales of the charismatic, albeit arrogant and cocky, pilot he had befriended—someone he cheekily deemed "perfectly your type." With a mischievous grin, Bob couldn't resist teasing you about your penchant for less-than-stellar romantic choices. However, as Bob grew closer to Jake, his jests evolved into genuine affection, a burgeoning belief that perhaps you and Jake were destined for each other. Your recent trip to San Diego had you attending Bradley Bradshaw's birthday bash at Bob's insistence, albeit with the conspicuous absence of Jake. Despite assurances from Jake himself that he wouldn't miss it, he was reportedly detained by a rigorous training exercise on base, but Bob hadn’t been buying it.
"Has Jake ever mentioned having a significant other, like, ever?" Bob quizzically posed one evening at the Hard Deck, the favored haunt for Navy personnel and their circles.
Bob's squadron pondered, their heads shaking in unison while exchanging contemplative glances. A few scanned the ceiling, delving into their memory banks to recall any fleeting encounters where Jake might have been accompanied by a woman for more than just a passing night.
"Bradley, Javy, you guys practically grew up with him. Have either of you ever seen him with a girl for longer than a one-night fling?" Bob chuckled, arching an inquisitive brow.
Bradley and Javy exchanged a silent glance, both shaking their heads softly. Bradley took a sip of his beer, placing the bottle down with a soft laugh, as if a distant recollection had suddenly surfaced.
"I take that back, I do remember this one girl. What was her name... Heather, Jessica, something like that. This was way back when I first met him, over a decade ago. Jake would've been, what, 21 tops? He was ready to tie the knot with her—or so we all thought. Then she decided she couldn't handle dating someone always on the go, and it broke poor Jake's heart. After that, he seemed to reckon he had something to prove, which might explain why he can be such an insufferable dick most of the time now."
Bob raised a knowing eyebrow, nodding thoughtfully. A smirk crept onto his face as he glanced around at his companions, then back at you.
"Jake's got cold feet when it comes to commitment. That's why he skipped out!” 
“Nothing gets past you, does it, Bobby?” Bradley grinned, shaking his head as he sipped his beer again.
“Look, I think we need to just bring you to his annual Fourth of July party. He’ll love you when he meets you. He’s just scared of the idea,” Bob nodded as he turned to you, grinning. 
“Guys, if Jake doesn’t want to meet me, it’s ok. I’m not offended. If he’s a commitment-phobe, I’m probably good just…not meeting the guy,” You shrugged as you sipped your cocktail, laughing softly. “Besides, Bobby, you’re the one who said he was perfectly my type because he’s an asshole. I mean, maybe I should change my type.”
“Nah, Jake’s not a bad guy,” Bradley shook his head quickly, an awkward chuckle escaping his lips. “He’s just not a smart guy, at least not when it comes to social settings. Trust me, he’ll be fine. We just won’t tell him you’re coming.”
A few nights later, you and Bob rolled up to Jake's party, the warm summer air buzzing with excitement. You sported a laid-back ensemble: denim shorts hugging your curves and a tie-dyed halter top in patriotic hues of red, blue, and white, exuding a festive vibe. Your sunglasses rested atop your head, adding a touch of effortless coolness to your look.
As you stepped into the backyard, the scene unfolded before you: Bradley and Jake engaged in their customary banter, beers in hand, the ambiance alive with their friendly squabble.
"I'm telling you, the Astros are taking it all this year," Jake asserted confidently.
Bradley scoffed, retorting, "And I'm telling you, they'll crash and burn like they always do, Bagman."
Bob chimed in with a chuckle, playfully interrupting their debate. Adjusting his glasses with a grin, he shot Bradley a teasing glance.
"Are we interrupting something here?" Bob quipped, his tone lighthearted as he ushered you forward.
Bradley's smile widened as he greeted you warmly, introducing you to Jake, who turned to you with a suave grin, his eyes sparkling with charm. 
As you laid eyes on Jake for the first time, a rush of sensations flooded through you. Standing tall with a commanding presence, his tanned skin glowed under the party lights, accentuating the golden hue of his tousled blonde hair. His bright sea-green eyes, vibrant and captivating, seemed to hold the entire universe within them, drawing you in with their magnetic gaze.
A charming grin played upon his lips, exuding confidence and warmth, while his strong southern accent, dripping with Texan pride, resonated through the air like a familiar melody. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his rugged yet effortlessly handsome features, feeling a flutter of anticipation mingled with a hint of nervous excitement. In that moment, it was as if time stood still, and all you could do was offer a tentative smile in return, your emotions swirling in a whirlwind of curiosity and intrigue at the enigmatic man before you.
As you stood before him, captivated by his presence, Jake extended a hand with a confident smile. 
"Well, hi there," he drawled in his rich southern accent, his voice smooth as honey. 
"Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin, US Naval Air Force." he said, his bright green eyes twinkling with charm, emphasizing his title as he shot Bradley a competitive smirk. You knew Bradley was a Lieutenant, and you knew from what Bob had told you that the Jake and Bradley bickered over Jake’s newly-appointed higher rank. 
"Pleasure to meet you," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of admiration for the accomplished officer standing before you.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Jake's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of confidence and charm. "Likewise," he responded warmly, his grip on your hand lingering just a fraction longer than necessary, sending a jolt of excitement coursing through you.
His handshake was firm yet gentle, sending a tingle of electricity through your fingertips as you exchanged introductions. In that moment, his genuine warmth and charisma enveloped you, leaving you eager to uncover more about the man behind the captivating facade.
As the conversation flowed, you found yourself drawn further into Jake's magnetic presence, each moment spent in his company deepening your intrigue and desire to unravel the layers of the enigmatic man before you. Jake excused himself politely after a few minutes of lively conversation, and you watched on with a dreamy-eyed expression on your face as he slipped away into the party to converse with someone else. Out the corner of your eye, you noticed Bob and Bradley exchange knowing grins as they observed what was unfolding. 
The night carried on, and you headed into the house to find your way to the bathroom. Closing the sliding patio door behind you, your eyes scanned over the house, taking in the crisp, white walls adorned with different pieces of country-themed decor, as if Jake was trying to bring as much of Texas into his Californian home as he could. A simple cactus sat on the coffee table, a Stetson hanging on the wall, next to a vintage rodeo poster, framed and on display. The decor was somewhere between vintage Americana and a country bar, but it seemed so perfectly Jake. At least, from everything you’d been told about him, and from your five minute exchange with him earlier.
As you headed down the hallway to find the bathroom, passing by the entryway to the kitchen, you could hear muffled voices, deep in discussion. You paused for a moment as you recognized both voices. One was unmistakeably Bradley, his Virginian lilt echoing slightly out of the kitchen. The other, an equally deep and recognizable southern drawl, one you’d only just heard a short while ago, but equally ingrained in your mind. 
“Listen, Bradley, I’m sure she’s a great girl. Bob wouldn’t have brought her if she wasn’t. I’m just not interested,” Jake protested, and you felt your heart sink slightly as you heard the words that weren’t intended for you.
“Jake, it was 11 years ago, man. Don’t you ever think about what it’d be like to meet someone? Settle down? Have a kid?”
“No,” Jake replied stubbornly.
“Now you’re just being a jackass,” Bradley sighed, and you could just envision the disapproving glance and head shake that Jake was on the receiving end of right now, “You can’t just keep having drunk one night stands, dude. You’re gonna wake up one day and realize you basically pissed your whole life away. The Navy’s not gonna be there forever. One day you’re gonna have to retire.”
“And I’ll retire happily. On a ranch somewhere in Texas.”
“Alone.”
“I’ll buy a dog if you’re that fucking concerned about me being lonely, Bradshaw,” Jake spat back angrily.
“What if she’s not like what’s-her-face?”
“Chelsea. And it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. You’re pissing away a chance with a really nice girl because of what, your pride? Your ego? You’re afraid to get hurt? You’re gonna end up drunk and alone.”
“Beer never broke my heart. Women have.”
“Oh come off it, Bagman. You were 21. You’re how old now?”
“Thirty five.”
“Exactly. Almost fifteen years ago. Give yourself a chance to be happy.”
As you listened in on Jake and Bradley's conversation, hidden from view in the hallway, a sudden tickle in your nose sent an urgent signal. You pressed a finger beneath your nostrils, desperately attempting to stifle the impending sneeze. However, despite your valiant efforts, a soft, involuntary sound escaped into the air, betraying your presence to the two men engrossed in discussion.
The gentle echo of your sneeze disrupted the flow of their conversation, prompting both Jake and Bradley to turn their heads in unison, their brows furrowing in mild surprise. Caught off guard by your sudden interruption, they exchanged a quick glance before Jake's gaze settled on the source of the noise.
You stood frozen in the hallway, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you met Jake's curious stare. In that fleeting moment, you felt like an intruder, an eavesdropper stumbling upon a conversation meant to remain private. Yet, despite the awkwardness of the situation, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if this unexpected encounter might offer insight into Jake's guarded heart and the walls he had built to protect himself from the ghosts of past heartbreaks.
“Sorry, I uh, I was just looking for the bathroom,” you blushed, nodding your head quickly as you smoothed a hand over your hair.
“Down the hall, second door on the left,” Jake nodded once, remaining awkwardly guarded as he spoke. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bradley held his hand out, shaking his head, “I promised Bob I’d sort this out and I’m damn well gonna do it.”
As Bradley stepped forward, determination etched into his features, you couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension. His insistence on addressing the situation piqued your interest, but you also couldn't shake the unease of being caught in the middle of a potentially sensitive conversation.
Jake glanced at Bradley with a hint of skepticism, his guarded demeanor softening slightly as he awaited Bradley's next words.
"Look, Jake," Bradley began, his tone earnest yet firm, "I know you've been hesitant about getting involved. But trust me, she's not like anyone you've ever met before."
You blinked in surprise at Bradley's unexpected endorsement, feeling a rush of gratitude toward your friend for advocating on your behalf. Bradley gave you both a knowing look before nodding once again and heading out of the room to give you both time alone. Jake shifted awkwardly on his feet, avoiding your gaze.
Jake's expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes as he absorbed Bradley's words. After a moment of contemplative silence, he finally spoke, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” Jake nodded slowly, looking up at the ceiling before glancing over at you. “Bob and Bradley have been so bent on getting us together. I guess I’m just hung up on some shit from fifteen years ago. An ex-girlfriend told me she didn’t want to live the whole military spouse life after I had an accident in training. I never got over it. Had a ring for her and everything. Was gonna have the whole 2.5 kids and a dog and a white picket fence thing going on. Then she decided she couldn’t be a military spouse, and I decided I couldn’t give up what I’d been working on achieving, so I let her leave.”
“You haven’t dated in fifteen years?”
Jake's lips curved into a rueful smile, tinged with a hint of self-deprecation.
“Not really, I mean, I’ve been with girls, but not seriously.” 
Your laughter rang out, tinged with discomfort as you shook your head in incredulity. "And here I thought my dating history was a train wreck," you confessed, a nervous chuckle punctuating your words. "Bob likes to rib me about it, but I have a knack for attracting men allergic to commitment, unless it's to Sunday night football and beers with the boys."
Jake's laughter echoed yours, a genuine warmth infusing his expression as he nodded in understanding. 
"Now it all makes sense," he remarked, a glint of realization illuminating his features. "Bob kept insisting you were my type, and I couldn't figure out how he knew."
You frowned in confusion. "I'm lost."
"I tend to gravitate toward women who epitomize everything I'm not," Jake explained, a note of introspection coloring his words. "The ones wanting marriage, stability—all the things I shy away from. It's why I've avoided serious relationships. I thrive on being the best, but in that arena, I’m like…a football team short of a quarterback."
“I mean, you could. You just have to want it.”
“Part of me does.”
“But?”
Jake lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head remorsefully as he looks down. He leans his body against the counter, shrugging his shoulders before speaking.
“But, I’m 35. I guess I could retire from service if the right girl came along. I just…it’s all I know. I know I’m a good pilot, ya know? I don’t know how I am at this boyfriend shit. “
His eyes met yours, earnest and vulnerable, as he confessed, "I mean, sure, I wanna be the kind of man who can sweep a woman off her feet, who knows how to cherish her and make her feel like she's the center of the universe. But truth be told, I ain't got a clue how to do that. I'm afraid I'll crash and burn before I even get off the ground.”
Jake frowned at the can of beer in his hand, shaking his head with a hearty chuckle.
“I’ve had too many of these, I don’t normally share my life story. Not with pretty girls at least.”
“Well,” you responded, pulling up a bar stool beside him before resting your elbows on the counter, holding your head in your hands as you looked at him, “I’m listening.”
"You know," he mused with a wry chuckle, "I never thought I'd feel betrayed by a cold beer, but here I am, questioning my trust in beer of all things." He shook his head, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "Seems I've stumbled into uncharted territory here, darlin’.”
As Jake's laughter subsided, a lull settled over the conversation, punctuated only by the distant hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses in the background. You sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a moment bursting with unspoken thoughts and emotions.
"Maybe it's time to navigate these unfamiliar waters together," you suggested softly, breaking the silence with a tentative smile. 
"We can figure it out as we go, right?"
Jake's gaze softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes as he met your gaze. "I'd like that," he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity.
 "It might be a bumpy ride, but, I reckon this time I might stand a chance of finding my bearings."
And in that moment, as the weight of his words hung in the air between you, you felt a spark of hope ignite within your heart—a flicker of possibility for something beautiful to bloom amidst the uncertainties of the journey ahead.
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mitchellpete · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming
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pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader
cw: instructor!mav, student x teacher relationship, power imbalance, angst if you squint?, age gap, office sex, oral sex (m receiving), penetration, cockwarming
word count: 1875
kinktober masterlist here.
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
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It takes Maverick about a minute to notice you standing in the doorway to his office. He’s swamped with paperwork, his pen nearly running out of ink at the scrabbling he’s been doing the past couple of hours. It seems you’d both ended up with irritable days, hence the reason you found yourself here in the first place.
It was late, thank God, and no one was really around anymore and you really didn’t feel like leaving base and spending the rest of the evening sulking alone at home. You knew that Captain Mitchell was staying in late, knew that if you didn’t wander in to see him, you might not see him at all over the next couple of days.
It was a bad habit he had. He gave you too much space. 
“Lieutenant,” he greets you now, a small smile curving the end of his mouth at the sight of you.
You ignore his propriety, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. You try to match his smile. “Hi, Mav.”
He immediately drops the act. Eyes darting from you to the closed door, he asks in a hushed voice, “What are you doing?” 
You approach his desk, your failed smile replaced by a frown. You want to hug him. You want him to hug you, you mean. To make it all better. You’re not sure how to ask for that, though.
“Just wanted to see you,” you say instead, curious hands reaching for the objects on his desk. 
He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes each object from your hands, placing them back in their spot as you move them. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, sweetheart.”
Your heart sinks a little at the rejection, and he seems to notice the disappointment cross your face. 
“Come here,” he says then, beckoning you over with a single nod.
You step behind the desk and into his space, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. It’s risky; you didn’t lock the door and the blinds aren’t fully shut, but the kiss lasts maybe two seconds. It’s fine.
Mav smiles and looks up at you with a soft glint in his eyes, the one that reads I’ll see you soon, okay? It’s the look he gives you every time he sneaks out of your house, or drops you off. You’ve started to dread it. There’s so much uncertainty that comes with it. Every single time you see him after that affectionate look, he’s just your instructor again. The affection is gone and you’re never sure when it’ll return. It doesn’t matter how much you ache for him. 
Boy, how badly you ache for him now. A kiss is never enough.
You’re almost going to swallow your pride and leave his office, seemingly satisfied with the one little kiss, until your eyes land on his lap. Then at his paperwork, then at the door.
He cocks an eyebrow, curious.
Fuck. You slowly stride over to the door, battling with your choices, but decide you have no intention of leaving. 
“Wh–” Maverick sits up straight at the sound of the door locking, and then watches as you move towards the windows to start shutting the blinds all the way. “What are you doing?”
“I wanna try something,” you say confidently, like he already gave you permission.
“Try something?”
“Mhm.” You shut the last set, take a step back to make sure they’re all closed and then turn your attention to him again. “Blinds shut, door locked. I think you’ve left for the day.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He drops his pen instead, tilting his head as he tries to figure out what it is you’re planning.
He sort of gets an idea when he notices your eyes scanning his side of the desk.
“Baby, I do have a lot of work to do.”
You smile. “And if I promise you won’t get your hands dirty? At all?”
Mav chuckles, shakes his head like it’s the most absurd idea he’s ever heard. It might be, you think, but it’s something you can pull off. The door is locked, after all.
“I think we’d be really stupid if we tried,” he admits, though his smile doesn’t falter.
“You don’t have to do anything,” you reiterate. “I just want to sit there. You can continue working.”
It’s like he opens his mouth to protest again, but then his lips press together instead, and he beckons you toward him with a nod like before.
Excitement fills you as he scoots his chair back to grant you access.
It’s hard to get on your knees in the cramped space underneath the desk, so you have to urge Mav to move his chair back with a gentle push to his legs. He complies, does his best to make as much room for you as he can. You find that you’re sort of shaky when your fingers pry at the button on his jeans, so he helps you with that, too. The position is slightly ridiculous, the chair a little higher than it should be, so you end up on your haunches when you pull his cock out of his briefs, and then sort of yank his garments down with your other hand for easier access. 
His eyes are still nervously peering at the closed blinds, making sure there aren’t any shapes or sounds coming from behind them, but you ease his worries when you take his shaft into your mouth. There’s no time to prolong this, so you get right to it; you take him in as much as you can, using a hand to stroke him at the same time. His knuckles are white from gripping the arms of his chair as he hardens in your mouth. Stifled groans leave his lips, filthy wet ones coming from yours. 
He throws his head back in silent satisfaction when you swirl your tongue around the tip, and accidentally groans out loud when you dip your head and trace your tongue down, and then back up his frenulum.
The noise he makes reminds you that you’re not supposed to make him cum here, that this is something different, and you pull back after a minute or so. Maverick is biting down hard on his lip, watches as you stand up off your haunches and immediately work your pants off. He shifts in his seat, positions himself as best he can for you.
With your pants completely off and kicked aside, you grab onto his shoulders and mount yourself atop his lap. Hovering above him, you reach down to grab him and line yourself up with him the best you can; usually he would do that for you but you did promise he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. 
“No moving,” you prompt, exhaling softly at the feel of his tip against your slit.
You whimper at the stretch—it stings just a little from lack of foreplay—but gradually sink onto him little by little. You let your body accommodate him, feel yourself growing wetter around him before you sink any lower. He tenses up, tries to minimize his reaction by gritting his teeth. The long groan that leaves his mouth is inevitable when you fully slip onto his lap, his cock buried inside you to the hilt. Christ, this is gonna be harder than you thought.
He seems to think so too, as his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Sweetheart, I don’t—I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he groans.
“Just get back to work,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.
His hands leave your waist to resume his task, but his breathing remains heavy near your ear. You relax into him, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. You’ve got your hug. This is all you wanted today.
Maverick scoots his chair forward as best he can, picks up his pen and shuffles through his papers. 
You try not to clench around him, a very difficult problem when he scoots forward slightly a second time, his balls rubbing up into your clit. You try to focus on something else, on his scent, past him at the frames on the wall, on the bits of light coming in through the blinds.
A minute passes.
Two minutes pass.
Three, and Mav still hasn’t touched pen to paper yet, clearly dazed by the situation. His eyes skim over the words he’s already written instead, trying to give his brain an idea on where to get started again. 
He wants to move very badly. It’s a terrible itch he needs to scratch.
He starts to think that this is maybe a form of torture. You try not to think much of it, try to pretend this is the hug you were here for, and it sort of works. Sort of. His cock prods at a very delicious spot inside you the more he begins to shift his hips, and it becomes harder and harder to stay still.
It’s when you hear his pen drop and roll across the desk that you realize Maverick is not so fond of your idea. Get back to work how, he must be thinking, and God, you hope he’s not frustrated that this whole ordeal probably just set him back. 
If he is, he doesn’t show it, instead wrapping his arms around you and inadvertently rolling his hips underneath you. You gasp, taken by sudden surprise, clasping a hand over your mouth when his hips jerk a second time.
“Mav,” you whisper. “I said—fuck, I said no moving.”
He scoffs, bows his head to lazily kiss at your collarbone. “You’re killing me. I’ll never go back to work like this.”
You bite back a moan. “I promised you wouldn’t get your hands dirty. I just wanted to sit he–”
He shuts you up with a sharp, fully intended snap of his hips. His arms drop to cup the bottom of your thighs, and neither of you care anymore after the first stroke. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room and it’s hard not to make any additional noise, suppressing your moans into little whines instead. Maverick starts fucking into you as if it were the first time, as if he’d never felt something so good before. 
Neither of you last very long.
Maverick’s thrusts get sloppy when you’re both seconds away, his tiring pace beginning to stumble. He’s smart enough to take you in for a deep kiss when you both cum at the same time, your quiet, high-pitched noises trapped in between your mouths. He continues kissing you through your unplanned orgasm, tongue licking against yours.
When he pulls back, you’re both panting heavily, savoring the glow. 
He helps you off of him eventually. Your legs are a little sore and shaky, and you clumsily stumble back against his desk. Maverick’s good reflexes prevent your fall, an arm around your waist, and you avoid landing on his messy stack of paperwork. You can’t help but snicker at how absurd this really was.
Maverick, on the other hand, has a smirk on his face at the sight of you propped over his desk.
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